by Lucas Hault
He saw the uniquely carved goblets, which may perhaps be ceremonial. The place wasn’t too bright but was enough for observing the surroundings. He walked into different chambers underneath to observe the beautiful carvings on the walls. It appeared mesmeric, despite his incapability in decoding them. It was neither Holferian nor any other known scripture, but something much different. It consisted of various signs and symbols, along with some alien carvings, about which he knew nothing. Every chamber comprised of three goblets standing triangularly between the pillars. The floor was tiled with ancient Holferian stones, carved into similar shape and size. It was so beautifully done that only a well-experienced stonemason could possibly carry out the job. The ruins itself were so mesmeric and bewitching that the actual beauty of the castle seemed unimaginable.
He was deeply involved in inspecting the chambers when Zelina’s cry fell into his ears. He was sure about her having discovered something big and rushed towards the stairs. He moved upstairs and into a large chamber, where she, along with Owen awaited him. The chamber was encrypted, with its high walls fully covered in carvings, most of which were familiar to Zelina and him. Zelina stood before the walls, staring at the carvings and the small parchments graved on it. The chamber was fully lighted with torches, and there were similar squiggles all over the floor.
“It’s the Holferian scripture”, she said, as Borkan stood beside her facing one of the walls. Owen had asked her the same for a couple of times but she barely spoke, and as for him she was herself the one to begin.
“The Wrath of Time says this one”, he mentioned, pointing at the small parchment engraved at the top. It sounded alarming, though the motto behind it remained veiled.
“It speaks of the past”, she mentioned pulling herself closer. “The last Holferian Prophet Lord Ravenrocus descended the earth in that very same year, which he mentioned to be the only year that would repeat itself. The year of the Unicorn. It would occur years before the coming of the final year, which would mark the end”.
“The Year of the Scorpion and the Raven”, mentioned Borkan. “It follows next according to the Holferian calendar”.
Zelina nodded. She moved to some other carvings and continued, “The last Prophet Lord Ravenrocus was the one, who along with the Elders had fought together against the odds. It was the same year when the promise was made, and it shall surely be fulfilled”.
A moment of stillness sat between them. With a cold heart and an obscure mind, he remained still, staring bluntly at the scribbles; until Owen’s voice interrupted, “I have never heard about the Elders. Have definitely heard about the last Prophet and some other stuff, but never actually about the elders”.
“Me too,” he supported. He had learned a lot from his parents, and mostly from his mother, but neither of them had ever mentioned about the Elders.
“They were the Divine Council that descended the earth before the last Prophet,” she explained. “The Elders were the Five Pillars of Eternity. Each and every pillar possessed a solitary power, and together with the last Prophet wiped out the odds”.
“What else can you decode?” he asked, walking beside her. Owen simply stood behind the two, watching everything in ignorance.
“It is the Orkinian scripture,” she said, pointing at some of the alien carvings on the walls, about which he had no possible idea. “It mentions about some Black Death, but the following content is overwritten”, she said. It might have been intentional, but it surely seemed concerning.
“Black Death?” repeated Borkan shockingly, instinctively sinking his voice. He sounded totally different this time, as if it would be the last thing to hear. “I have heard that name”. Owen and Zelina stared him abruptly, their beady eyes glistening with curiosity. He continued, “My mother has told me once about it. The Black Death. It’s a Secret Council somewhere in Spion, but no one has ever actually seen them. Mother says that they have only been heard as tales over warm fire, and many deny their existence. No one has ever seen them and they are regarded as ancient myths.”
They stood braced—feeling the sweat drench their skin, the throbbing of their own eyes, the ringing screams of horror vibrating in their ears, and the thumping of their heart against their chest. Not much was known about the past or the present, but each and everything looked to be a direct or perhaps an indirect link to Harot, which indeed was a sign of the approaching danger. “Your father was absolutely right,” mentioned Owen. “The Visionary Castle of Sinfroera would give us further clue, and here we have it. The key to everything lies in Spion”.
It was perhaps the nation of Spion that would answer every question, and the truth shall be discovered. Spion was not that far from Sinfroera and laid next to the state.
“We should keep going,” said Borkan as they hit the stairs, making their way out of the castle.
“Where is our car?” asked Owen shockingly, as the three stopped by the entrance, breathless and panting. They had parked it right before the gate, but unfortunately, it was nowhere to be found.
“You won’t need it anymore”, said one of the guards of the land, dressed in black cargo and pale grey jacket. The North-Eastern guards stood surrounding them, glaring them with fierceness in their eyes.
The three conceived their end, and their ways of escape sealed. Trying anything further would be dumb and a foolish act, about which none had a shadow of doubt. It would do no good, but could land them into serious consequences; and hence they remained bolted, as the guards moved closer and captured them all.
“Did you really thought that you would enter my land unnoticed and then leave away successfully without my concern”, said the Dictator, Antonio Calaway smiling, throwing out his hands in expostulation. It was indeed one of the most foolish acts that one would ever commit, especially the son of Elias Rayne, a man known to all.
Borkan and company were in the Palace of Hontroferry, in the Dictator’s office. None among them spoke. Antonio continued, “I never thought that the son of Elias Solomon Rayne would act so dumb”.
Borkan and his companions had never seen the Dictator before, who looked much more fierce and staunch than what they had ever heard. The grey hair, bulging amber eyes, and the gigantic personality—everything was so much more to actually perceive.
“Forgive me My Lord!” apologized Borkan. Not quite sure about his blood, but Antonio liked his manners. The Dictator listened, as he continued, “It’s not about my father or our President or about you. It’s about something much more important than this”.
“You sneak into my land and say it’s not about me. How can you trust someone involved in this act?” mentioned Antonio Calaway, and his voice echoed, though he was still not harsh or loud. But that figure did appear scary and so was his voice.
“I apologize for it, My Lord!” replied Borkan, his eyes full of grief and shame and a dreadful questioning-staring him back. “It wasn’t a proper way but we don’t have much time. The city of Harot is swallowing countless lives which is a serious threat to all. The Holves seem to be the only key to the mystery behind the abandoned city, and we are in search for them”.
“The Holves are long gone, boy. Many hear them as history”. The Dictator was still not convinced.
“Not all of them” mentioned Owen, looking at the lady beside him.
“What do you mean?” asked the Dictator. He did look addled, but was in no mood to entertain nonsense.
“This is the second last year according to the Holferian calendar. The year of the Dark Bear, following which is the final one, which according to the Reyalm is the end of the world, as it marks his return”.
“Whose return?” he asked surprisingly.
“I do not know,” replied Borkan looking him in the eyes. He saw the two balls of fierceness and distrust staring into his eyes. “We have to get into the matter as early as possible. It’s not about any land or its ruler. It’s about life and death”.
“I think you just did nothing more than spitting out garbage from your mouth. You must e
ither be carried away by emotions or must be drunk”, said the Dictator. The twitching of his bushy eyebrows bespoke his disappointment and irritation.
“It’s absolutely true”, supported Zelina, who was annoyed with his blasphemy. Her eyes blazed for an instant, and then with an evident effort, she got a grip on her own emotions.
“And you must be the Holf that this other fellow has mentioned,” guessed the Dictator.
“She speaks no lie,” stated Owen.
Antonio sighed. “You speak of life and death, but aren’t you aware that you stand at your end. Harot might be what it is, but you should fear Hontroferry more”. He rose to his feet and moved towards them. A tall and muscular man, he was inches above Borkan and Owen.
“You are the son of Elias Solomon Rayne and Rebecca Skye?” mentioned Antonio Calaway, placing his hand on his shoulder.
“I am,” he replied immediately, in a voice that was filled with pride and honour.
“And how many women are you involved with?”
“None”, was the reply.
He nodded. “So will the son of Elias Rayne like to have a royal death or a beautiful one?”
“Give me any but let my friends go”, replied Borkan. He had already lost his heart and abandoned all hope of escape. “Getting into your land without your permission is indeed a crime, and I am ready to face its penalty. But let them go. It is something of utmost importance, and someone needs to get through it”. He sounded low but resolute, like one who was no stranger to the peril, but had nailed his heart to meet it.
Antonio laughed until his ears were quite red. “Have it your way,” he said, looking at him long and fixedly, reflecting the sinister in his eyes. “Why find means to get through the mystery of Harot when you can directly get to that city through a memorable flight”.
The Dictator returned to his chair to hit the table bell and within seconds, heavily armed guards appeared.
“Take the lady down into prison and lock her in a cell next to Miss Layne”.
It was shocking, and she tried to oppose, but one among those gigantic guards raised her up on his shoulder and took her away. Owen wanted to help her out, but stood helpless and could make no move, as it would mean nothing but an immediate end. Besides, he had always wanted to get to Harot to look for his brother, and now he had that opportunity laid before them, which he never wanted to miss.
The Dictator turned his attention to Borkan and Owen, who were quite disheartened for Zelina. “Prepare for a journey along with the troop, and throw them both into the boundaries of the city that they mention. Don’t harm them if they are in, but shoot them down if ever the footsteps turn back”.
It was rude, but Borkan expected nothing less from a man like him. His only regret was that he couldn’t accompany the third one, Zelina, and didn’t know her fate here in Hontroferry.
Joanna Maddox stood by the antique candle stand in her chamber, next to the balcony attached to her room. She had always enjoyed that view, right from the moment she stepped in. The elegant portiere with slick imprints was simply grandiose and enthralling, which she could hardly avoid admiring. The chamber, which belonged to her husband and herself, was thrice in capaciousness than her own chamber in the Palace of Jewelsberg. The chamber was large and airy, cheerfully furnished and illuminated by two broad windows. There were expensive lights hanging down the ceiling that were much brighter and beautiful than the ones that she had ever seen. The bed was twice the size of her former one, and everything around was far more superior than her expectations.
The Palace of Yorshan, the Capital of Spion, was a prodigious manor that was a different world within itself. It was so extensive that it resembled no less than a big royal city. It was built on magnificent pillars which highlighted the excellence of the Spionian art and architecture. The Palace was erected with sandstones using the beautiful architecture, giving it a captivating tint. Layers of molten gold and the rare gemstones added to its unique demeanour.
The Palace was also known for its large number of towers, exceeding hundreds, with each and every one of them being big and magnificent, just like the Palace itself. There was a colossal hall to the west of the enormous garden, connected with four towers which was restricted to all. No one, not even the President’s wife was allowed there at any expense. It was only used by the President, his high priestess sister and a few officials, about which not much was known to anyone.
It was a cold autumn night, and the stars were twinkling brightly overhead. Joanna was before the balcony, dwelt in some other world. The winds were harsh, and the little heat excreted by the flames of the burning candles felt warm and pleasant. She stood by the place, gazing at the countless glittering stars in the dark sky, awaiting the arrival of her husband.
It had been more than a week since their marriage, but their relationship was still barren. She was as strange to him at the instance as always before. He had always remained mysterious, and they hardly spent time with each other.
“You remind me of my great grandfather, Lord Gawin Starkweather”, interrupted a tenor voice, and she turned around to look at her husband, Lord Austin Starkweather standing before her. He continued, “He was so delighted and thrilled by his victory over the Palace that he could hardly sleep. He used to gaze at the sky every night following his victory, from the uppermost chambers of every tower, considering himself above all. He used to celebrate his dominion with these stars, singing his songs of valour”.
The tale of Gawin Starkweather was known to all. He was the most dominant commandant in the Nation of Spion. The royal city of Bronn was the original capital of Spion, whereas Yorshan was regarded as a separate territory, under the control of Lord David Winston. It was believed that Gawin Starkweather was captured by the beauty of David’s wife Hannah Winston, and was drawn to attack and capture the Palace and the city, in order to get her for himself. The invasion was successful, but Hannah along with her husband threw themselves off the tower to end their life. That was a turning point in history, where the boundaries of Spion were extended, and the capital was shifted to Yorshan.
Joanna’s husband walked to her and held her in his strong arms.
“I know about him more than I know you”, she said. The woman’s words came with an intense earnestness which carried conviction with them. She was complaining, and why she wouldn’t, her husband had hardly any time for her. She was somehow being pushed to embrace loneliness, which she couldn’t, but was unfortunately forlorn and deserted.
“I admit it honey that I have been overlooking you for these past few days”, he began as he gently grabbed her hand. “It is never easy to be a ruler and you are always burdened with endeavour and responsibilities. But I do promise that you shall never be left forlorn”. He peered into her beautiful green eyes, which were so beckoning that he actually wanted to get drowned in them. The love which had sprung up in his heart was not the sudden, changeable fancy of a boy, but rather the wild, fierce passion of a man of strong will and imperious temper. He adored his wife; closer and closer until the mere gap between the two was eliminated and the lips met.
“I have something for you”, he said as the lips separated. He moved to the drawer by their bed, and returned with a fancy pack in his hand. She, on the other hand, broke into passionate weeping as he spoke. She had absolutely no knowledge about it and wasn’t aware of that thing in the drawer either.
“This is for the love of my life!” He presented the pack before his gorgeous wife.
Joanna held it in her hand, and slowly opened it. She was enjoying every single moment of the beautiful night, and the presence of her husband simply made her feel special. She slowly opened the fabric lined box, with surprise in her eyes and eagerness down her chest. She sluggishly unboxed it to reveal a marvellous and expensive diamond necklace, whose gleam was simply mesmeric.
She was dazzled, but aphonic. She ran out of words and could speak nothing. She just laughed and clapped her hands, while her eyes and teeth gleamed with
fierce merriment. However, her tears of joy did not stop, but ran down her glowing cheeks which were passionately kissed by her husband.
She wrapped him in her arms, as he hooked the necklace around her neck. She looked so stunning that he could hardly blink his eyes.
“I love you honey!” he whispered in her ears.
“I love you too!” she replied, blushing and laughing, and the couple kissed. She hardly had a moment to react before he pressed his tongue to the seam of her lips, and at her grant of access, delved inside her mouth. He nursed her lower lips, following the upper, and again the lower, and continued his act. He just loved her softness around his lips, and all over his body, as he embraced her and wrapped her around himself. She crossed her legs around his waist and they moved towards their bed.
He disengaged her hands, kissed her and gently pushed her in bed. He slid down her gown and reached for her nipples. She moaned. They kissed again, as long as they could, and their naked bodies were wrapped with one another. The lips remained attached, while the body got in motion. Their breaths increased, and the couple moaned in pleasure. The beautiful act of lovemaking continued, as the door of the chamber opened, and the high priestess, Olivia Starkweather got in. Neither did the atmosphere within nor their position surprise her, and neither did her presence bothered them.
She moved in and stood before them, maintaining her distance from their bed.
“You are being awaited, My Lord”, she said as soon as Lord Austin noticed the presence of his sister within, though his action didn’t stop. It didn’t bother him, but felt weird to the wife, who quickly hid her face by his shoulder. Olivia Starkweather, who was dressed in black awaited.
He thrashed her harder and harder in order to be done with it, but his urges were far behind his hurry, and thus he had to leave his wife midway. They weren’t done, and she never wanted him to leave, holding him by his hand. But to her shock, he pulled it away forcibly.
“I will be right back”, he said, as she wrapped herself with the bed sheet. He still wasn’t polite and moved towards his sister who stood by the door, holding his dark wardrobe. She cloaked it on his bare back, and he wrapped it around himself.
