by Dan Zangari
“Tiring,” Vargos replied. “I could use a nap.”
“You can rest if you’d like,” Cornar said. “I doubt we’ll be encountering trouble here. Besides, the Mindolarnians probably want to mobilize their army before we get too far away.”
Vargos nodded. “I’ll be in my cabin,” he said, walking down the stairs and toward the now lowered gangway.
“It’s spectacular,” Igan said, turning back to the glistening buildings.
Cornar nodded. They stared at the magnificent vista for a moment before making their way to the gangway.
Dozens of soldiers filed down the gangway, spreading across the pier. The Wildmen were much less disciplined in their departure—they pushed their way down the gangway and scurried about the pier. One of the other warships had sailed along the pier’s other side, mooring opposite the Executor’s Breath. Soldiers from the other warship were also disembarking, with Wildmen mingled in their ranks. The soldiers piled supplies along the pier, including the tents used to erect the war camp. The Wildmen, however, knocked over supplies. It was a mess.
Cornar thought the idea of setting up the war camp silly, as they could simply retire to the ships. The island wasn’t that big. Judging by first glance, the buildings were probably less than half an hour’s walk from the pier—a good four or five grand phineals.
“Mister Dol’shir!” Cornar turned to see the prince approaching with his two friends. They looked unusually excited, especially that strange woman, Laeyit.
Kaescis grinned, his expression pleasant. The hostility Cornar had observed since the Keepers’ Temple was all but gone. The prince looked like he had when they first met—an idealistic man seeking adventure and excitement.
How odd…
“Are your men ready?” the prince asked.
“We’re still gathering them from the lower decks,” Cornar replied. “We came aboard before the storm. Some of my men went back to the Promised Maiden to fetch our gear.”
“Excellent!” Kaescis said, still grinning. “I would like to set up camp within Dalgilur. Find us a suitable spot to erect the war camp. Send some of your men back to us when you find it. Then, feel free to explore the wonders of this place.”
“All right,” Cornar said.
Kaescis turned away with Laeyit and Bratan, moving toward the gangway.
Igan looked warily at Cornar. The wizard was obviously puzzled at Kaescis’s change in demeanor. Igan, however, wasn’t the only one worried about the abrupt change. Cornar himself pondered Kaescis’s turnabout, but he felt calm. He knew he could rely on that feeling, but he wondered why he hadn’t perceived Solidin’s deceit. Perhaps it was because the elf’s intentions weren’t malicious.
“What do you think his secret is?” Igan whispered. “That man must be at least a hundred years old.”
“At least,” Cornar replied. He hadn’t dwelt much on Kaescis’s nature since his latest experience in that dreamland. But now that they were here on Dalgilur, Cornar began wondering again. Who was Kaescis, really? And what was his true purpose here on Dalgilur?
Hoping he would soon uncover those answers, Cornar strode to the gangway with Igan. They walked side by side, traveling along the pier toward the island’s heart. They—not Krindal—would be the first to behold this ancient wonder. Cornar thought it fitting, especially since he had been lied to about the Keepers’ Temple and the Sapphire Guard.
“With unbridled guile, Cheserith changed the societies he touched. His actions were perceived as improvement, especially his introduction of tevisrals the likes of which had never been seen, not even among the elves.”
- From The Thousand Years War, Part I, page 24
Dalgilur’s towering buildings sparkled in the sunlight. Incredible, Cornar thought, gazing at the buildings with astonishment. So this is what our world was like for our ancestors. He stood with Igan near the pier, at the edge of an expansive grassy field. The field was remarkably manicured, even though this place was supposed to be abandoned.
But was it? If this place was inhabited, would the inhabitants be friendly? Or would Cornar and his men be seen as invaders? Cornar couldn’t take that chance.
Many of his warriors gathered around Cornar, each gazing admiringly at the magnificent sight. They were girded in their chain mail, their weapons belted on.
Soon, all forty-three of Cornar’s band was gathered. We don’t have enough mages, Cornar thought, frowning. He wanted to place them in teams of three, one mage per two warriors. That pairing was the safest when exploring potentially dangerous territory. It was a practice he had learned from personal experience. But only a third of his band would have a mage with them.
What to do…? Then his eyes fell upon the fifteen Sorothian scholars. They were dividing their supplies beside the Promised Maiden.
“Kalder,” Cornar said, still studying the necromancer-scholars, “grab Krindal. I want those scholars who are trained as mages to join us. This place looks peaceful enough, but I’d rather have mage support for each pair.”
Kalder nodded and hurried back to the pier.
“Are you sure that’s wise, Cor?” Gregan asked doubtfully, folding his arms.
“It’ll be fine,” Cornar said, nodding.
“I thought we were claiming finds for ourselves,” Igan whispered. “That won’t work if those scholars are exploring with us.”
Cornar turned to Igan. The wizard looked stern. Igan too had felt betrayed by Krindal and the others. Since sailing from Klindala, the more senior members of the band had decided that whatever they found on Dalgilur would be theirs. They would smuggle their finds back to the Promised Maiden.
A devious thought came to Cornar. It was probably something Iltar would have done. “If they join us, it seems like we’re being trustworthy,” Cornar said, glancing back to Kalder. The warrior had just reached Krindal and the other scholars. “There will be six groups not with the scholars. Whatever those six find will be ours.”
That satisfied Igan.
“You’re sounding like Master Iltar,” Gregan said. “I didn’t think you had a devious streak…”
“You can’t be too careful with Mindolarnians lurking about,” Vargos said contemptuously, his sour tone a result of his interrupted nap.
Cornar grinned. “This isn’t the first time I’ve claimed discoveries under the noses of scholars.” Several warriors laughed, having heard the story. They hadn’t been on the adventure, of course. It was a trip Cornar had undertaken several years before establishing his band.
Kalder approached and cleared his throat. “Igan will be with me and Kamdir,” he said. “Kalder and Hemrin will be with Clodin. Hem, you stay with Ordreth and Demsal. Sharon, you can be with them as well.”
Hem whooped, throwing a hand into the air triumphantly. Cornar knew that the four of them worked well together.
“You four will be in charge of the deed.” Cornar referred to the act of smuggling their discoveries back to the Promised Maiden. “Vargos, you’ll be with Gregan and Haetan. Nordal, take Tinal and Midar. And lastly, Cordel and Shen will be with Renal.”
Those Cornar had organized separated themselves, standing a little way off on the grassy field. Hem’s excitement carried through the air. The illusionist made wild assumptions about Dalgilur’s secrets. Many of the other warriors paired off while Kamdir approached Cornar and Igan.
Kamdir was one of the youngest warriors, standing shorter than Cornar, but not by much. Kamdir, fit and sturdy, was still considered tall for most men. He knew how to fight, and sometimes proved a challenge for Cornar in sparring matches.
He had been a close friend of Cornar’s youngest daughter, Elista. They had grown up together, and Kamdir had been around for many a homecoming from worthwhile adventures. Since the age of seven, Kamdir had wanted to become a member of Cornar’s band. Cornar thought, perchance, that Kamdir and Elista would marry, but she followed her brother to Tor and found a husband there.
But even after Elista’s departure, Kamdir c
ontinued his training with Cornar. Kamdir put every part of himself into becoming a skilled warrior. And, Kamdir was a good man. He even helped out in the vineyard. Though Kamdir hadn’t married Elista, he had become part of Cornar’s family. Cornar saw him as another son-in-law, one he could actually spend some time with. It wasn’t that Cornar didn’t get along with his sons-in-law, Kamdir just shared similar interests.
“This will be fun,” Kamdir grinned, clasping his hands behind his back. “Thanks for picking me to join you.”
“Of course.” Cornar patted the young man’s shoulder, but was drawn by Kalder and the scholars.
“You want us to join you?” Krindal asked skeptically.
“Yes,” Cornar said matter-of-factly. “I don’t like to change what works on adventures. We’re short of mages, so I thought the lot of you wouldn’t mind filling in the gaps. You can be both scholars and necromancers today.”
Many of the scholars looked unsure. If any had been on an expedition like this before, they had probably sat back and let men like Cornar do the initial scouting.
Jahevial, however, didn’t share their uncertainty. “Where do you want me?” he asked, stepping forward.
Cornar pointed to the two men standing to his left. “You can join Aron and Vaemar.”
Another scholar stepped forward—a man named Valinar. He was followed by six others. They each joined pairs of warriors. Four pairs, however, were still mageless.
That’s better than before, Cornar thought, eyeing Krindal. The old scholar looked sheepish.
“Do you want to join me, Krindal?”
“Cor!” Igan whispered, gritting his teeth. Cornar glanced casually to Igan. He didn’t intend to keep Krindal with them the whole time. Cornar wouldn’t need the old scholar. But perhaps Krindal’s initial involvement might soften the tension between them.
“You don’t have to stay with us,” Cornar said. “But you deserve to be one of the first to set foot into Dalgilur. I’m sure Kaescis will have other plans for you the rest of the time. But you can help us select a spot to erect the war camp.”
Igan studied Cornar, then eased.
Krindal looked to his fellow scholars, those who hadn’t joined the warriors. “I cannot,” he said with hesitation. Cornar thought Krindal would be more enthusiastic. “The prince has something else for me to do,” Krindal said, then turned around, walking back to the pier. The other scholars followed Krindal.
“Four groups aren’t too bad,” Kamdir said optimistically.
Once the scholars were gone, Kalder approached Cornar. “Maybe the mageless pairs can stay outside, guarding the war camp,” he suggested.
Cornar nodded.
“Am I with Hemrin?” Kalder asked, glancing to those who had separated themselves. Hemrin was waving his hand high in the air.
“How did you guess?” Cornar said with a chuckle.
Kalder smiled and walked away to join his group. There was a steady chatter brewing among the men.
“Listen up!” Cornar shouted, and everyone quieted. “Our initial task is to find a suitable place to set up the Mindolarnian war camp. Once we get into those buildings, everyone will spread out. We’ll scout the area for a few hours, then meet back at a central courtyard at the heart of those buildings.” He pointed to Dalgilur. “Leave a marker in the center of whatever area you’ve scouted, that way we don’t have any overlap.
“Now, let’s go!”
Cornar spun around, eagerly striding toward the majestic towers piercing the sky. Many of his warriors let out triumphant cheers as they marched toward Dalgilur.
* * * * *
The road from the pier was beautiful. It rose a little above the grass and seemed to keep the vegetation at bay. Glistening poles lined the road on both sides, probably some sort of ancient lamppost. They were bright in the daylight, and Cornar assumed the poles would be quite luminous at night.
Several of the warriors tromped across the field, moving toward the outer parts of the city. A good number, however, were still behind Cornar.
They reached the edge of Dalgilur within a quarter of an hour. All was silent. Dalgilur’s silence, coupled with its pristine condition, made the city seem exceptionally eerie. Many of the warriors drew their weapons and cautiously stepped onto the road that ringed the city. The street from the pier merged into this ring-road and was lined with more ancient lampposts.
Cornar had thought it odd that there was no wall or city gate. But then he remembered the storm. That storm was essentially Dalgilur’s wall.
More groups split off, and only a few remained with Cornar as he cautiously approached the nearest building. Cornar and those with him—his, Kalder, and Gregan’s groups—stopped to admire the building’s magnificence.
It was made of a sapphire-colored stone with indigo flecks and streaks of cobalt. The stone surface, like the road, lacked any seams. The building rose hundreds of phineals, perhaps a hundred stories tall. Its base looked to be the size of a Sorothian city block—roughly the size of four squared phedans or three hundred phineals square—but tapered every five or so stories half way up the building. The tapering effect created staggered balconies with glowing rails. Towers rose from some of the balconies, reaching partway up the building. Enormous azure windows spanned multiple floors. Cornar had seen nothing this grand.
“It’s… massive,” Kamdir murmured.
“And it’s one of the shorter ones,” Gregan remarked in awe.
“We could be here for months,” Hemrin mused, awestruck with the possibility of exploring every square phineal of the city.
“Well, you’re not going to catch me at the top of that!” Vargos blurted.
“Let’s split up,” Cornar suggested and continued forward, moving to the building’s right.
Cornar crept onto a road that led between the buildings toward the middle tier of the towering structures. This road would be one of the twenty-one leading into the city.
At this distance, the uniqueness of Dalgilur’s buildings was visible, although they had many common features—the towers and balconies to name a few. But each was laid out slightly different from the next.
Soon, only Igan and Kamdir were with Cornar. They cautiously stepped onto a road wrapping around the middle tier of buildings and found another road leading to the city’s heart. Every building they passed was as magnificent as the first.
Cornar wondered what it would have been like to live here. Throngs of Keepers most likely had filled these streets. He wondered if they peddled goods along the roads, or did they have their own building for that?
The heart of Dalgilur wasn’t as compact as the outer ring. Seven towering buildings—made of white stone—sat in a circular field of manicured grass, spaced at least a hundred phineals apart. These seven buildings differed from the others.
Their bases were oval shaped, and much of their architecture shared that trait. Towering pointed oval windows adorned the buildings’ walls. The buildings tapered as they rose, but instead of forming balconies, the rooftops became the tips of pointed ovals. Their windows, however, were the same magnificent azure as the others.
Cornar thought the architecture of these seven looked elven. He hadn’t seen many elven structures, but he knew the elves liked to make their buildings resemble pointed ovals, mirroring the shape of their ears.
If these are elven, were those first ones human? Cornar wondered, passing a few trees scattered around the white buildings. The trees were hemmed by a low cerulean-colored wall that rose to knee height. And what of the supposed dragons? Solidin claimed dragons were part of that ancient coalition. And that third projection-thing in the temple beneath Klindil was supposed to be a dragon—a dragon in human form. Cornar still wasn’t convinced that dragons existed beyond myth.
Ahead of the seven white towers lay the courtyard Cornar had mentioned to his men. It wasn’t what Cornar had expected.
The road they were on intersected another ring-road that circled the center of Dalgilur. Tall whit
e-marble statues of humans and elves, both male and female, hemmed this circular road. The statues faced outward, guarding a circular platform that sat at Dalgilur’s heart, elevated above the road and the grassy field.
The statues stood on squared pedestals made of the same white marble. The statues were clad in armor or robes and wielded a variety of weapons. Some weapons Cornar recognized, but others were unknown to him. Many of the mages wielded channeling staffs—a rod with a groove along its shaft that mages used to accelerate bolts of magic. Such weapons were precious—Cornar had only seen ten in his lifetime. Each of the statues had unique emblems etched upon the fronts of their robes or armor. These emblems undoubtedly represented the twenty Orders among the Keepers.
As Cornar and his companions passed, they eyed the statues; each rose two or three times higher than the men.
“Doesn’t look like this will work,” Igan said, climbing the deep steps to the platform. “There are too many obstacles in the way, what with the trees and statues.”
“Perhaps we can set up in one of the buildings,” Kamdir said thoughtfully.
They stopped at the highest step, next to one of seven pillars that surrounded the platform. A transparent globe hovered above each pillar—each globe about the size of a man’s torso.
Igan moved to the platform’s center, eyeing intricate designs beneath his feet. Strange symbols glowed a pale blue, while lines along the platform shifted in myriad colors grander than any rainbow.
“This looks familiar,” Igan said, kneeling at the platform’s center. He slid his hand over the glowing surface, eyeing the etched symbols. “I’ve seen this before.”
“The writing?” Kamdir asked, putting his hands on his hips.
“No, this platform. There was one like it in the Keepers’ Temple. But the platform was damaged.”
Cornar turned around, surveying the rest of this central section. Igan was right; there was not enough level ground to set up the war camp. They could set up camp here, but the tents would be spread out.
We might have to settle for a campsite beside the city, Cornar thought. His eyes swept to the northwest. More statues guarded a street between buildings. That’s different, he mused, stepping across the platform.
