The Exodus Sagas: Book IV - Of Moons and Myth

by Jason R Jones

  “To the king!” Aelaine yelled as her wand let loose a yellow ray of mist, it fanned over ten charging soldiers, and they stumbled and squirmed uncontrollably to the ground. Kendrynn and his remaining men plunged broadswords through them before they could rise, and the forces of Vallakazz moved into the courtyard.

  “Kill them! Open the east gates and let our new friends feast on Vallakazz!” Johnas pointed toward Aelaine and Captain Shilde. Just as he did, he spun around having heard heavy breathing behind him. He looked at the sweaty, bloody, armored King Mikhail with his solid black eyes.

  “To the death?” Mikhail caught his breath from the stairs. Something was odd for Johnas to be all alone on the battlements, yet he raised his blade in challenge.

  “Yes, uncle, to the death.” The doppelganger raised its blade and shield, and walked toward the king atop Castle Valhera.

  Clank, clank, clank…

  The eastern gates that led to the docks opened. Through the passing smoke and dust, hundreds of green and yellow feline eyes atop shadowy forms were waiting. A scruffy man with a patch over his eye drew a longblade and dagger, pointed toward Aelaine Lazlette, and his brethren roared and hissed with feline anticipation.

  Shinayne IV:I

  Temple of Haddius, Ruins of Mooncrest

  “There can be no worse fate for those of divine origin than being forgotten forever.”---words from the teachings of Jouvihr, last High Priest of Haddius, Temple of the Sea. Circa 1606 B.C.

  The blue light from the braziers cast no heat, but lit the chambers with an unearthly glow. Water dripped slower than it should, the walls moved as if they were made of living stream, and when water drops hit the floor it sounded as if a thousand stars twinkled at once. Following the blue guiding illuminations, Saberrak Agrannar walked down stair after curling stairway, deep under the Temple of Haddius. The waters parted before him, and when he turned to check on his friends, the waters had sealed quietly behind them as they passed. The air was heavy, everything was moist and wet, and then they reached the bottom.

  A spanse of waves circled like a storm under a bridge with no supports. Deep dark water rippled beneath, and on a round dais at the end of the gray stone, stood a man. Green steel chains held his ankle to a central steel pillar, his feathered wings were an off blue, and his robes were torn dirty and barely white. He was at least three feet taller than Saberrak, nearly two men tall, yet his body was emaciated and thin. Bony elbows and knees protruded his tattered robes, his long beard was frazzled like vanquished seaweed, and his wings had feathers that curled up like dried leaves. His eyes emanated sorrow with their effervescent blue stare, betraying his sincere smile at seeing his first visitors in over two thousand years.

  “Is that who I think it is?” Shinayne whispered.

  “And who would that be then?” Zen had his warhamer and shield up to the ready at the edge of the bridge.

  “It is Haddius, Ruler of the Oceans.” Saberrak huffed knowingly, how he was not sure, but he knew. His eyes were misting blue to match the being he walked toward, just like the eyes of Annar when he had freed him. He glanced back, all four of them followed slowly.

  “It cannot be, my eyes see five strangers, but I feel to know one of them. Who are you, minotaur?” The voice was a rasping whisper, dry and old.

  “I am Saberrak Agrannar the gray of Unlinn. We seek the mines of Kakisteele and to rid this place of the curse that holds it.” He stood a few feet before the tall immortal being, looked up, and flared his nostrils.

  “I see a beast, I smell a beast, yet I hear the voice of my long lost brother in your words, Saberrak of the spirit of Annar. How did you find me?” Haddius looked down and tried to spread his wings, feathers falling like forgotten dreams from his shoulders.

  “We did not, this was the only sealed temple, and the dead chased us. It was luck and lack of options. We had no choice but to enter.” Gwenneth spoke truthfully, yet she felt an awkward focrce from this man that held no trace of the arcane.

  “Ha, luck she says, the wielder of mighty magicks from my fathers’ moon, and she says luck, she does, she does.” Haddius laughed and dust showered the air from his mouth. “There is no luck, the fates were banished by God, as were so many of his children and grandchildren, even his immortal guardians. There is but curse, purpose, and lies left in this world, Gwenneth Lazlette.”

  “And destiny, faith, and love? What of them, great Haddius?” James spoke up, kneeling now before this old winged being. His hand was glowing blue like the surrounding waters, the eyes of the man chained, and so were the eyes of Saberrak.

  “Ahhh…destiny? Gone with the sister of Seirena and Megos, forgotten with She who cannot be named nor remembered, taken by Yjaros, cast to the stars perhaps. Her temple is but black slag adorning these mountains, her eyes see no more the fates of mortals or immortals. As for love, seek the temples of the serpent queen, my sister Vasentanessa. Faith, you wear faith on your chest, a symbol of Alden that protects you no more than the cloth it is sewn into, James Andellis.” Haddius coughed and more dust flew through the air, it had been so long since he had spoken.

  “Annar is free, he has gone to join the others, and he arrived up there.” Saberrak looked up to the grand ceiling hundreds of feet above. “I know, I felt it and saw it. So, how do we free you Haddius?”

  “Me? Ha! There is no freeing me. How you freed Annar, I will never figure, but my curse is beyond you. Annar would lose his immortality and strength to a slave, were he freed. My mother Seirena, her eye was taken so He could see all life as she did, and He placed it as His third in His own forehead.” More dust fell from his eyes in an attempt to actually mourn.

  “My father Megos, his hand was removed so that God could use the magicks of the world and moons. Solumet, my brother and the oldest of us children, was kept in the dark like the second sun, forever in shadows that no one can find. My forgotten aunt, her voice was taken before she was removed from the memories of all and imprisoned, and then her beloved was cast into hells eternal. I protected them all, I ordered my brothers Vundren and Siril to leave here and guard Alden in Heaven beyond the white moon. I thought I could calm God’s anger as I could calm the seas.”

  Haddius choked, by dust or sorrow, none were certain. “As my father held Marthentine from the darkness of Gimmor, God and His people laid waste to the city of temples, and his curses have been ever since. The Knights Soujan were murdered and cursed, and I sit here eternally staring at the salvation I shall never feel. For my part, I am damned for assisting my Carician family. Only the sensation of water on my skin can free me, but that sense was taken by Yjaros when I was chained by his Nochtilian children. I can help you not, and you will never free me.” Tears of dust floated from his blue eyes as the waters around them roiled and tossed with sorrowful anger. Seas of mighty depths and crashing waves whipped and circled around them all on the dais of stone, much like the storm that surrounded the ruins above.

  Gwenneth waved her hand and concentrated, some water flowing through the air from the waves around them, and she guided it over the immortal man known as Haddius. She let go, dumping the water over his wings, yet it turned to steam and dust before it landed. Haddius looked at her with a stern stare, and she smiled embarrassingly back. “I had to try the obvious, sorry.”

  “I told you, I cannot feel the water, I have no sense of touch. It is of no use.” Haddius closed his eyes in futility.

  “This storm you make with your anger, it is the same as the one around the ruins of Mooncrest, is it not?” Shinayne asked as the furious waters quelled a bit.

  “It is, I must rage it all the day in memory of my misdeeds. At night, I bring the rains. My tears for my lost family. Why? You think you have a way to free me? Do not waste your time, highborne Shinayne, I have tried everything.” Haddius sat in front of them.

  “So, who guards this place then, down in me mines and---“ Zen covered his ears as the clanging began, echoing loudly throughout the watery chamber.

 
Saberrak had two hands on his enchanted axe, swinging wildly into the green steel chains and column. Blow after blow, mighty swings of his steel into these restraints, the noise was deafening. He looked down, not a scratch. He dropped the axe, pulled on the chain with all his might. His eyes hurt from the strain and the blue, his legs pumped forceful steps, and he bellowed out a roar louder than a giant. Nothing moved. He caught his breath, picked up his axe, and looked to the ankle of Haddius.

  “Do not think it, minotaur. I have tried, it will regrow before the chain comes loose. It is a curse, and despite my lack of feeling, I do not wish to make vain attempts at severing my appendages to prove a point. After two thousand years, I have tried everything, trust me.”

  “Just a thought, that was all.” Saberrak sat and huffed at the chains, then tossed his axe in front of him.

  “To answer your question, Azenairk Thalanaxe, one of the Gimmorians guards your sacred forges. She was placed there for all time by God, to keep the curse forever as a reminder to mortals of His power. It is also a reminder to all immortals to never again partake in the forbidden love of our people. We cannot love you in the flesh, and we cannot kill one another. It is written in the---“

  “Primalus Defectus, the holy scriptures of the Heavens. I studied them as a child, in the Aldane Church.” James commented.

  “Yes, Altestan and the worshippers of Yjaros made certain that all would know, in many ways. Here, Arabashiel, keeper of curses, resides below. Though you five may be powerful indeed, she is an immortal of the moons, what you would call a Goddess, akin to me, but stronger. She is Gimmorian, bred of Yjaros and She that is forgotten, not of Seirena and Megos like myself of lesser Carician blood. She cannot be killed.” Haddius sat, closed his eyes, and the others sat with him. “I am weakened, a prisoner, with only an angry storm to summon and rains of sorrow to let fall. I wish I could help you.”

  Hours passed in lonely thought and depressing attention to the waves that crashed abive the underground sea. Hopelessness set in, radiating from a God that had been chained in misery, and it seemed that nothing would change it.

  The elven swordswoman thought of Lavress, how long it had been since she had seen him or kissed him. Years, but not millennia like the longing Haddius must have for his loved ones. She could not fathom centuries alone as he had endured. Shinayne suddenly stood and paced, she thought hard while everyone sat and rested before Haddius on the stone bridge. Her aquamarine eyes lit up and she approached the trapped immortal.

  “Great Haddius, you say you feel the loss of your brothers, when to conjure your storm, and when to make the rains for your family?”

  “I do, I must do these things, it is my curse.”

  “You said you see and smell Saberrak, but you feel Annar inside of him?”

  “Yes.”

  “Yet you cannot feel with your hands nor body, not the water, not sensation or pain, nothing?” Shinayne smiled and drew out Carice and Elicras.

  “No, I cannot. I have immersed myself too many times to count, the water, my tears, it is but dust to me, forever. And forever I am chained as heat to the desert.”

  “Why are your blades out, Shinayne, what are---“ Gwenneth was cut off.

  “Saberrak, you and James grab that chain. Do not pull until you hear my blades hit one another. Gwenneth, summon as much water as you can hold from that sea, when they pull, you dump it on the entire dais. Zen, I need you to pray, one of your poetic and rhythmic prayers. Maybe stomp a bit in time, make a song or steady peaceful pace for me, but keep it in time with the blades.” Shinayne backed up from Haddius, then tossed Carice to him. He caught it with a flick of his wrist.

  She held Elicras out on guard toward Haddius, then drew her other longblade from across her back. She nodded to James. “Give him your sword, James.”

  “Why does he need two, I mean what are you trying here elf? Is this---“

  “Just do it, please.” Shinayne pleaded with her eyes. She looked to Haddius as he took the griffonblade he was offered, his blue eyes confused as he held two blades, and then he looked to the elf. Like an opening flower to the sun, he smiled to Shinayne.

  “My brother Siril and I used to do this dance, when we were alone, so many thousands of years ago. What is it called again?” Haddius stepped forward, chain jingling behind him.

  Shinayne bowed. “From the lost Viala of Simnorr on the island of Kilikala, it is a Simnorri kata we are about to perform, together, you and I. When I do this, I can feel and see and touch almost anything, and so can Lavress, no matter how far away he is. I have felt trees, air and wind, even calm cool ponds when we meet this way. But, you must do as I do, follow me perfectly, and close your eyes Haddius.”

  “Very well. How do you know it will accomplish anything though?” Haddius mimicked the bow, blades out to both their sides, and he closed his eyes.

  “Because my faith is much more than a decoration to be seen, it is a deep root into the stars from ancient elven love and tradition. Are you ready?” Shinayne closed her eyes and smiled as she felt the longing steel in her hands. Elicras wanted to be close to Carice, she had suspected as much, and that is why she had separated them.

  “Yes, I am ready. The blade you gave me, it seems to want the shorter one in your hand.” Haddius spoke.

  “I know, they are a matched pair. No more words, follow that feeling, search me out along that blind sensation, but follow my motions. Rest now, close your eyes, and listen.” Shinayne listened to the hum of Elicras and quieted her mind.

  Saberrak and James lifted the chain quietly behind him, yet allowed for slack as best they could estimate having seen their highborne friend do this several times before, albeit by herself. Gwenneth lifted her staff, stood far to the side of the dais, and began lifting water into the air with arcane command. It collected in circling blue pools and twisting streams as she moved her hands silently. Soon, a cloud of swirling sea was overhead.

  “Agravun desedre vangurde…”

  Stomp

  “Anvundres et dur en Vundren de…”

  Stomp

  Azenairk Thalanaxe stood in prayer, pounding his boot to the stone after each verse he sang. He felt his rhythm, bringing back memories of singing the hymns of Vundren deep under Boraduum, so many years ago. His deep voice lifted, echoed, and his eyes wandered to Shinayne and the ancient angelic immortal.

  Shinayne felt the slow rhythm of dwarven chant, felt the water above her, and she went on a slow en guard. Her longblade arced from low to high, followed by Elicras driving forward in a rising lunge. Her steps were like a dance to near still music, right turning over left, her attacks at nothing but air seemed to hold purpose on her still face. Eyes closed, she spun in gradual cuts and thrusts, rising and lowering in time with Haddius. She breathed and danced, her kata was perfect.

  The Ruler of the Oceans kept his eyes shut, with delayed swordplay that mimicked the highborne elf he knew was before him. Haddius saw but darkness, yet felt where Shinayne and her blades were, the song of Carice and the griffon hilted broadsword seemed to tell him without words or sight where to move. Soon, little glimmers of light flitted into his vision, eyes still closed.

  “Vushde Vannir Vundren erdes de..”

  Stomp

  “Maonell de oh oh ohh vesde arde…”

  Stomp

  Shinayne felt in touch with it all, the water, the waves, the being in front of her. The chant was in time with her parries of invisible blades, her steps mirrored those of Haddius, her breathing was nearly non-existant. Deep inhales followed by spinning round slashes that were constant yet not rapid nor staggered. Elicras wanted to touch Carice, but she did not allow it more than a longing hope, and then she was in the Vale of Simnorr. Her heart felt the pain of Haddius, she took him with, praying deep inside for help from the sky she could not see.

  Haddius saw his brother Siril, God of the elves and sky and stars, they were dueling in dance. They were young again, yet Siril held the blades of Shinayne T’Sarrin, and he held
the ones given to him. Trees of majestic heights rose around them, green covered mountains washed the horizons, and the air was deep blue and covered in stars. The moon was full, the white moon, and it shone down on the tall perfect elven winged form in front of him. Without words, he and Siril danced, blades interweaving one another, yet never touching. Music rose from nowhere and everywhere, millions of eyes watched yet there was no one there, and Haddius smiled as the song of their swords changed with every stance and movement.

  James felt his hands ache with something, stronger than ever, and the blue glow was aflame and crawling up the chain of green steel he held. He looked to Saberrak, to his eyes, and the blue light was slowly pouring over his tattoos and down his chest, reaching the chain as well. James looked up, the water was flashing in blues and whites. By the look on Gwenneth’s face, it was not from her doing. Zen’s eyes were wide, staring at the dancing highborne and the God of the Oceans that she was spiritually sparring. The dwarf was in disbelief of the proximity of their blades as the tempo quickened. Haddius and Shinayne were moving faster now, eyes closed, and the blades were missing each other by hairs, sometimes less. All four of them could not blink, but neither could help but wince, as steel came ever so close to flesh and the dance hummed and became so very real to see. Four blades, in step between their elven friend and a forgotten deity, flashing too fast to see now with blind spins and airborne twirls of arcing slashes and diving thrusts. It became a blur, a hum of dance and deadly attacks that should have struck flesh or steel, but did not.

  “Agravun desedre vangurde…”

  Stomp

  “Anvundres et dur en Vundren de…”

  Stomp

  Shinayne was there, in her homeland, face to face with Haddius as they dodged and weaved their identical lightning cuts and flashing parries. She rolled back, so did he. Her blades went out wide in a poetic arc as she somersaulted forward, and Haddius maintained pace. They were not alone here, she felt someone with her, yet she drove Haddius to follow her to the pond. Her longblade spun overhead as Elicras twirled low. He mimicked perfectly with Carice above and the broadsword near his knees. Back he went, driven to inhuman speeds, immortal speeds, his spirit taking over from his body to keep the routine. Then, Shinayne stopped, her aquamarine eyes opened. Haddius opened his the same time.