Perdition's Rest

by J. C. Placeres

  "As to the second topic at hand, the request by Duvold for a meeting between the two nations, her majesty decrees that such a meeting will happen one week from now. However, in protest of the reckless actions of the Tormos known as Gunvold, Mielor will not attend. Instead, the Phlebos delegation will be chosen and led by Lorne. As to the third issue of potential war with Juxton, the light of eternal lights reserves on issuing a ruling at this time. So sayeth the light of eternal lights, beacon of the Three, so shall be done."

  Just like that the meeting was over and the entire extravagant entrance was reversed. The hand maidens approached and placed Mielor's mask back upon her face, followed by the royal guards who escorted the empress to her mobile platform. The servants that carried the platform on their backs reversed direction and the light of eternal lights was carted away, the throne room shaking as the massive walls slowly sealed shut again, locking Mielor away in her vast royal quarters.

  * * *

  A screeching noise echoed through the damp stone hallway. The sound was followed by a loud bang as a steel door slammed back on itself closing. Suddenly a light appeared, a flickering torch casting dancing shadows throughout the ominous hall. Duvold, accompanied by two royal guards, quickly walked down the passageway. As they traversed the hall, water would occasionally drip from the ceiling and form puddles on the ground. They passed prison cell after prison cell, each one empty except for rats that went scurrying away in anger at the unwanted trespassers in their domain.

  The prison block in Deep Ridge was rarely used; in fact, the last time a Tormos had officially been arrested was nineteen years ago, and even then, it was merely for disorderly conduct as he had gotten into a physical dispute at a bar. The dungeons had thus long ago been abandoned to the rats and spiders. It was always dark as no torches were kept lit. The prison block was also always damp and dank due to the dungeons being below sea level.

  After passing what seemed like an endless amount of unnecessary jail cells, Duvold and his escort arrived at the final cell in the block. The torch light revealed Gunvold sitting on his cot, a smile on his face as he stared out at the new emperor of the United Tribes. “It’s a pleasure your grace, I believe this is the first time we’ve seen each other since your recent promotion.”

  Duvold motioned with his hand to one of the royal guards who produced a rusty set of keys and unlocked the cell door which opened, creaking on its hinges. Duvold, although keeping his eyes on the Behemoth, addressed his companions. “Leave us, I wish to speak to the prisoner in privacy.”

  The guards nodded and handed Duvold the keys to the cell. The emperor stepped into the prisoner's cell and closed the door behind him hearing the click of it locking. The guards walked away into the darkness, their footfalls becoming fainter and fainter until eventually the light of the torch faded away. The emperor and his grand champion were left in total darkness, their eyes naturally adjusting to the lack of light.

  “I’m pleased you didn’t put up a struggle when Tulinda had you detained,” said Duvold as he shifted his view taking in the drab jail cell. "I would have hated to see the situation in Armistan become any more complicated than you had already made it.

  “I live only to bring your grace happiness," smiled Gunvold, the scars on his face wrinkling in the process. "The last thing I would want is for a scene to erupt between Tulinda and I. While I may not agree with her decisions, I do respect her on a professional level.”

  “I’ll cut to the chase Gunvold," the emperor said as he ran his hand along the stone wall. "What is your plan? Ever since I ascended to the throne, I’ve been receiving reports detailing your recent changes to Deep Ridge. I chose to ignore those reports, but after what occurred at Armistan, I’m beginning to wonder if you really have lost your mind.”

  “My plan has always been the same your grace, to protect the empire." Gunvold shifted his massive muscular form in order to directly face Duvold, his body being far too large for the small bed and causing the wooden structure to creak and strain under his great weight. "I live to serve, and the ends justify the means in that regard.”

  “You claim you don’t want a war with the Red Empire, but then you erect defenses as if going to war. Then, if that was not enough, you openly attempt to kill the commander of Aun’s Light. These are not the actions of one who does not want a war." Duvold turned, shifting his attention directly to the Behemoth. "Now tell me, why do you want to go to war with the Red Empire?”

  "Let me ask you a question Duvold," began Gunvold. "What do you dream about?"

  Duvold paused for a second, staring at Gunvold as if trying to penetrate his calm exterior. After gazing at the grand champion for a few moments, the emperor quietly whispered magical words lost to Gunvold. The very stones from the ground rose up about three feet high behind Duvold and formed a pillar with a flat top. Duvold sat down on his impromptu seat and smoothed out his robes.

  "I'm assuming my dreams are a lot like yours and every other Vesnian's. I see things that I don't fully understand. I don't know whether the visions I see have already occurred, have yet to pass, or will ever come to reality. I do not put much emphasis on my dreams for they are but passing visions from the Three and some things we were not meant to know. However, I'm guessing you want specifics?" In response to the question Gunvold nodded affirmatively to his emperor.

  "There are several dreams I experience, however the most common one is also the most inconsequential I believe. I step out of a carriage and look up to see the sky which is pitch black. I notice I’m in front of a large building which I enter. My vision shifts and I’m now inside the building. I see shadows before me, they speak but I do not understand them. I’m looking for something…someone. Suddenly a figure steps out from the behind shadows, but this one is different. While everyone else is a mere dark blur, this individual shines as bright as Aun. I want to turn away, but I can’t, I just stare at the shining person and I’m torn as to what to do.”

  Duvold stopped briefly and smiled while shaking his head, a light chuckle escaping his lips. After Duvold had collected himself, he continued speaking to the grand champion. "You'll have to excuse me, it's just that I find humor in the situation. I find myself the emperor of the United Tribes, sitting in this dank dungeon across from the most dangerous man in the land. Here I am before the legendary Behemoth, brought low and charged with high crimes and you have me talking about dreams. I've never told anyone my dreams and yet here we are."

  "I'm honored to be the first to hear your dreams," said Gunvold as he leaned back on his cot and rested his broad back on the stone wall. "I'm sure that isn't the entire dream though, is it?"

  "Yes, there is more," responded Duvold. "My vision shifts again and I’m in a different larger building, maybe a palace. The burning shadow is next to me and I feel great guilt. More shadows approach, they want to take the glowing individual. Part of me wants to stop it, to warn it of the fate that awaits it, but I can’t. The blinding beacon follows the dark shadows and as they pass beyond my sight I wake up."

  Gunvold, his penetrating gaze never leaving the emperor, continued his line of questioning. "What do you think the dream means?"

  "I have long pondered the meaning of the dream," said Duvold contemplatively. "However, what I think doesn't matter though. Tell me grand champion, what do you think my dream means?"

  The Behemoth crossed his massive arms over his chest and Duvold couldn't help but be in some awe at the sheer size and might of the brute. "I think it means when war comes you will fail and let our people down. While I don't think you're the type of person to abandon the Tormos, as I believe you genuinely are trying to do a good job, you will ultimately fail. Your own inadequacies will cause you to doom our people."

  Duvold smirked, he didn't know what Gunvold's game was, but he knew he had to turn the table and begin pressing the giant. "That's not at all how I interpreted the dream, but you have me intrigued. Why do you think I'll fail Gunvold?"

  "You lack the conviction to m
ake the difficult decisions," said the grand champion. "You and I have never seen eye to eye. You believe that Vesnians are inherently honorable and that at the end of the day, justice and reason will prevail. You fail to realize that as the ages have passed Vesnians have become more and more corrupt. This mortal world has slowly been rotting us. This plight that is destroying us and robbing us of our immortality, we have brought it upon ourselves for being weak. For so long we have collectively stagnated and what do we have to show for it? We dig deeper into Nualn, we hunt what few animals remain and trade rocks with the Phlebos. What sort of existence is this for us? We are the chosen of the Three!"

  Gunvold stood up from his cot and pointed to the ceiling above, the Behemoth towering over his emperor. "Up there is a world which was given to us by the Three and what have we done with it? We use Nualn as a waiting room for what purpose? We just sit here living out our lives waiting for that inevitable day when the Three call of us home. I say we were meant for more. We are denying our greatness. The Three put us here in order to test us and for too long I have been one of the few people advocating that. The Phlebos are weak and pathetic. The average Vesnian, regardless of whether Phlebos or Tormos, has been corrupted. If we can purge these lands of the weak, then those who are still pure can begin reshaping this world as Juxon and the White Watcher imagined. We can be so much more than we are right now. Yet you and so many others hold us back out of fear. I'm not afraid Duvold, I'm willing to make the hard decisions if need be to save those that matter."

  Duvold shook his head and shifted his sitting position, straightening his back in the process. Continuing to keep his calm demeanor, he placed his hands on his knees, his velvet robes silently shifting with his every move. "That was quite the impassioned speech Gunvold. For so long you have been the lone voice preaching war. You claim you want to achieve the vision of the Three, but the vision you seek goes against the very things the Three teach. Love for one another and love for our land. Your actions would kill millions of innocents and alter these lands that were born from our dying father. Some would argue what you suggest is blasphemous. Some might say that you have a vendetta against the Three. After all, look at what they have wrought upon you. First, they took your wife away from you and now they've taken away Thunvold, your best friend. Some might say the Three have forsaken you."

  Gunvold smiled and sat back down on his cot, the wooden structure creaking in the process. "The machinations of the Three are not mine to understand. I respect their will regardless of the outcome. The Three chose to change Tulinda and what's done is done."

  Duvold held back his frustration, he had been hoping his remarks would break the steel exterior of Gunvold. Try as he might he just could not understand the grand champion. This was a man who took the slightest insult as a personal attack against him, and yet he seemed unphased when Duvold brought up one of the sorest aspects of Gunvold's life.

  The Behemoth smiled and continued his methodic speaking. "Do you want to know what I dream of your grace?"

  Duvold laughed and responded in a tone of voice that betrayed his lack of interest. "Please enlighten me grand champion."

  "I see war, death, pain and agony," the grand champion was staring directly at Thunvold with a fierce intensity. "I see people dying, people that I know and yet have never seen. I see atrocities that would make you blanch. Destruction, agony, pestilence and mutilation surround me. I'm talking about utter brutality. People being tortured, ripped limb from limb and forced to watch their loved ones die. This is what I see when I close my eyes at night. I see all of this and I know who is committing it - the Phlebos. In the dream I'm leading the army and the enemy rushes at us, an endless wave of figures drenched in blood which never stops coming. For an untold amount of time, I wade through the tide, my vision shifts, I see crimes against Vesnanity. I then shift back into the battle; I'm soaked from head to toe in blood. I see only red, I taste only copper, my muscles burn and ache and yet my will burns strong. I survive. While all those around me fall I persist. I alone have the vision, the ability and the desire to persevere. When the battle is over, I stand alone and triumphant, all around me as far as the eye can see is death. My victory, while costly, is absolute and final."

  "You paint a vivid picture Gunvold I'll give you that," said Duvold while shaking his head in disbelief. "You certainly have a flair for the dramatic. I'm going to cut to the point and tell you what I think of your dream. Actually, scratch that, I have two interpretations. I think one potential meaning is that you are doomed to be alone. While some may try to lend aid, you are incapable of feeling any empathy towards others. You are an ancient beast who lives only to gorge on the misery of others. For too long you were given free reign under Thunvold's soft fisted style of rule and it has warped you, exaggerating your behavior. You will be alone now and forever, a slave to your twisted mind. The second interpretation is that you're simply lying. I wonder if that is really what you dream. You probably dream about something irrelevant, and you just made up this nonsensical story so that you can justify your relentless desire for violence and bloodshed. Our society has kept you restrained for too long and now with Thunvold's passing you see your chance at ill placed glory. You can see the potential brutality just across that bridge on the other side of the Tempest Path and now you are reaching for it. All of us are expendable in your pursuit of martial glory."

  Gunvold was still stoic in his posture, unmoving and staring at his emperor with cold calculating eyes. "This might shock you Duvold, but I agree, although not with your second interpretation. In the end I will be alone for I am different than the rest of you; I am the chosen of the Three. At one time there were others like me, but now I am all that is left. The weak shall wither and die and I will inherit the world. A small subservient few will survive, and I will begin to cultivate the lands of the Three into what they were meant to be. Make no mistake though your grace, what I have seen will come to pass. Mielor will have the war she so desperately wants."

  Duvold rose from his seat and the pillar of rock collapsed back into the floor as if it had never existed. "I don't know if you know this or not Gunvold, but you've already failed. Mielor has received our message and despite your best attempts at sparking a conflict, logic and reason have prevailed. She has agreed to meet with us at Armistan to discuss the crisis, in fact that's the whole reason I'm here, for her - not for you. The summit will begin tomorrow morning. Peace will be ensured; a cure will be found for our malady and our race will continue. Well, everyone will survive except for you. You will be tried for high treason and I suspect you will be found guilty which will result in a death sentence. The last time a person, or rather persons, were executed for treason, you were the executioner. You waded into the Dallion Forest and killed off an entire tribe of our brothers and sisters. Now, eighteen hundred years later, you yourself will be executed for treason. It is quite a poetic fate if I may say so. However, before the meeting takes place tomorrow and our way of life is ensured, I thought it would do good to come down here and tell you face to face of your failure."

  Duvold opened the cell door and closed it behind him locking it in the process, the whole time Gunvold remaining motionless. It troubled Duvold that he knew nothing more than when he first began speaking to Gunvold, but at least Tulinda's reports of Gunvold's growing instability were not exaggerated. "Before I go Gunvold, I do have one last question. Why didn't you try to kill me just now? While I would have been able to defend myself, we both know most likely you would have prevailed."

  Gunvold stood up and walked over to Duvold. He grasped the bars and lingered mere feet away from the emperor on the other side. "Violence is the most powerful tool available to us. I can wield it better than anyone alive. Although violence is often the answer, it is not always the answer. Contrary to your belief I’m not a blood thirsty monster who wants to kill everyone in my way. I use violence when appropriate, in an appropriate amount, in the appropriate time, and against appropriate individuals. Thankfully fo
r you your highness, now is not the appropriate time or place for such actions."

  “Am I an appropriate individual?” Duvold asked with a smirk.

  Gunvold smiled at the emperor and shrugged, “anyone can be an appropriate individual.”

  Duvold let loose a low chuckle and shook his head; the emperor tapped his hands on the bars of Gunvold's cage and smiled. "Good night Gunvold and sweet dreams."

  Duvold turned and walked away from the grand champion, his footsteps becoming fainter in the ears of the caged Behemoth.

  CHAPTER 7

  The Brink

  The Granite Hole was one of the filthier bars in Deep Ridge. Located near the surface it served those of the lower caste who lived in the city. While there were numerous bars dotted throughout Deep Ridge, the Granite Hole was the most popular among the servile residents. Alcohol, an outlawed substance in Aunia, was perfectly legal in Juxton. The substance did not have an intoxicating effect on Vesnians; however, the ultra-orthodox Red Church still deemed it a sin to partake of the drink, a liquid which they viewed as being created through an impure process. Rumors had long existed though of lavish parties held in the upper echelons of Phlebos society where the elite members of the Red Empire drank heavily of the forbidden liquid. The lower caste of Phlebos society, long subdued and controlled by the heavy hand of Mielor, dared not brew the substance for fear of the swift punishment that would be levied against them. Still, there were whispers that in the far reaches of Aunia a few Phlebos dared to secretly brew the illegal substance in the deepest and most remote parts of the Singing Forest.

  None of that mattered to Shervold though, her shift had just ended an hour ago and before heading home to her apartment in Deep Ridge she was meeting some friends at the Granite Hole. Shervold had been stationed at Deep Ridge since its creation; previously she had roamed with one of the nomadic groups of the Vold tribe around the Patriarch Mountain. When Deep Ridge was built, she had signed up to be a laundress for the permanently stationed militia unit at the installation. Her previous life was now nothing but a non-existent memory due to subsequent reincarnations. She often wondered if her former self had made the right decision in agreeing to move here. While life at Deep Ridge was more stable and safer than moving with a nomadic group, she had sacrificed many freedoms. Now that she was a part of the United Tribes in proper, she was held to a rigid schedule, her time was the United Tribes’ time and her life, more than when she was nomadic, was dictated by each passing second. She would often wonder what life was like when she lived out on the open tundra, but unfortunately, she could remember nothing, it might as well have been someone else who had spent all those years constantly moving and braving the elements. Life in the city was also full of information whereas the nomadic units lived in mostly ignorance and isolation. Only a few weeks ago, official notices had been put up around the city alerting everyone that the failed reincarnations were still being investigated. While the news was disturbing, Shervold had faith in the Three and her leaders that a solution would be found soon.