Four Sunrises

by J C Maynard

  “However, her spot will need to be filled.” Mordvitch turned toward Aunika. “This job was originally going to be assigned to Shonnar Nebelle; but I see that after his unfortunate death, you have taken up his duties. A few months after the assassination, you will enter the fortress acting as an official from the Gienn Innovation Square. You will meet with me and the Science Council in an interview for the job a week after that. Obviously you will pretend you don’t know me.” He handed her an envelope. “In here is all the information you will need.

  “We will have Evertauri with you to ensure your success, but you will be our primary infiltrator. Multiple Evertauri will be sent to Gienn in the next few months to arrange everything for the lie to be believable. Remember, the Queen is cunning, so this must be perfectly executed. Over the next week, you will also need to brush up on a great deal more science than you learned in your schooling. Providing the Council grants you the position, you will be in charge of the vaults and report everything back to the Evertauri. This would be a full time job, except for certain additional missions we will inform you of later.”

  She would no longer be able to stay with her parents in a few months — the second time she would abandon family for the Evertauri. Aunika tucked the envelope into her coat. “As you wish, Sir.”

  Mordvitch turned to Calleneck. “And Mr. Bernoil, you will now be working with our supply and mission report strategist team. Your credentials show that you are the Evertauri’s leading cartographer.”

  “Well,” replied Calleneck. “in my two years I have helped map out much of the goblin’s Network, allowing for smoother missions and an advantage when it comes to transportation of information and supplies.”

  “Excellent. You will receive Aunika’s reports, as well as others’, concerning the shipment of weapons and scientific information. You will discuss this with the strategy team and then inform the Evertuari Council on the best course of action — specifically if we need to intercept information or destroy supplies. You will also be in charge of navigation for new investigative teams in this operation who will be gathering goblin information on these weapons, the explosive devices. We expect that a massive shipment of the Queen’s weapons will be sent to the front lines after final testing; Cerebrian battalions will be able to use these against the Ferramish. If this shipment occurs, the Ferramish will not provide enough pressure in Endlebarr to keep the Queen occupied. We hope that, as the Queen starts to push back Ferramish troops, the shipment will travel through the Great Cerebrian Gate in the Taurbeir-Krons.” Mordvitch turned toward all four of the guests. “If the Queen puts the full effort of the science wing into developing these explosives, the government likely will be shipping enough through the Gate, that if we intercept it, we may not only be able to destroy the weapons, but use them to destroy that gate, which is Cerebria’s main defense against Ferramoor. Of course the numbers are not yet sure; I have many more calculations to do.”

  Mordvitch looked at his luxurious watch. “I must go now.” He handed Calleneck an envelope. “My information and estimates for you to give to Sir Nebelle. This also contains your mission report. And make sure that Sir Nebelle reads the report on unusual activity in Port Dellock . . . Let me escort you all back.”

  He walked the four through the mansion and left them at the front doors. They were halfway down the steps when Mordvitch called out, “And Miss Everrose. Be careful when you’re growing your flowers.” She gave a nod, and she, Grennkovff, and the Bernoils made their way to The Ivy Serpent, where they each took turns disappearing through an illusion of Taurimous which looked like a mirror, and reentered the Nexus.

  “Thank you Mr. Bernoil.” said Madrick Nebelle as Calleneck handed him the envelope. He was tall with salt and pepper hair with heavy eyes and slightly wrinkled hands. A thin stubble beard ran across his angular chin. “This is valuable information. Mordvitch has risked a great deal to carry on his spying. Some Evertauri don’t realize why he does what he does, why he helps Xandria; and they hate him for it . . . We don’t comprehend any sacrifice that is not our own. But because of him, we have a chance. He’s the one person Xandria doesn’t suspect.”

  The goblin study, which he had turned into his office, was filled with silver ornaments. Some of them perpetually moved in patterns and some were shimmering, ever changing illusions of matter; everything was silver, the color of President Nebelle’s Taurimous. Madrick Nebelle was not only the leader of the Evertauri, but also the most gifted sorcerer by far, knowing secrets about sorcery and the Taurimous that no one else knew. With wrinkles in his hands, one would expect little from him, but the stories of what he could do were terrifying.

  President Nebelle noticed that a desk drawer was open and shut it. “Mr. Bernoil, we step closer and closer every day; every day the sword gets closer to Xandria’s throat. Her pretty blonde hair and white dresses will soon be crimson . . . Crimson . . . That’s a color of power, Mr. Bernoil.” Calleneck swallowed, Why does Madrick know my Taurimous? The man kept pacing around his office and staring at the silver ornaments. “Crimson . . . reddish hues . . . blood stained battlefields . . . the rising and setting sun . . . a burning fire forging red metal into weapons . . . those colors are colors of power, Mr. Bernoil. Why do you think the Ferrs chose scarlet at their national color? . . . It inspires fear. A crimson Taurimous is one not to take lightly . . .” He turned and stared Calleneck in the eye. “Do not wish a different identity for yourself. Make what you ought to out of what you have. To do otherwise will destroy you.” Madrick formed a shimmering orb of silver flames that danced around his fingers. “Be careful playing with fire, Mr. Bernoil.”

  “Yes Sir.” replied Calleneck, wondering whether Sir Nebelle could have guessed what was going on inside his head . . .

  “Is there anything else you wish to report, now that you have a new position?”

  Calleneck’s mind flashed and remembered sprinting and swinging through the forest with the Phantoms. He thought of the awesome power which flowed through Tayben’s veins . . . the Phantoms . . . Xandria’s Phantoms . . . the Evertauri doesn’t know. The Phantoms could destroy the Evertauri and we wouldn’t know how to stop them.

  “Yes Sir, actually there is something very important that you should know.” Tell him about the Phantoms. But then Calleneck thought of the Nymphs and their pure light, like endlessly luminous starlight. They were pure, and they trusted the Phantoms. He paused and thought of something else. “I will soon start working on a sequence for a southern goblin chamber web which will allow twice as much access to our entrances in The Crandles.”

  “Good work, Mr. Bernoil. Dismissed.”

  ◆◆◆

  After Calleneck had left his office, President Madrick leaned back in his chair, thinking back years ago to when he and Sir Mordvitch invited Borius Shipton into that very office. President Nebelle and Mordvitch had successfully started the Evertauri, and it was time for Mordvitch to work for Xandria as an Evertauri spy, and time for Borius Shipton to take his place as second in command. Borius was Madrick’s most trusted advisor other than Mordvitch, and a powerful sorcerer to fill the role of number two to him.

  Thinking back on more memories of those years ago, he extended his hand, producing a little silver flame. He twirled it between his fingers and then shaped it into the form of a little rose petal in his hand. A shiver ran down his spine as his mind flashed back to a memory from over a decade prior — a memory that had haunted him ever since.

  A little Raelynn, not more than seven years old ran up to him in an underground cavern.

  Madrick’s eyes looked scornfully on Raelynn. “What are you doing here Raelynn? I told you not to follow us!”

  “Daddy, daddy! Can I practice with you and Selenora this time?”

  Madrick looked to his other side at a young Selenora Everrose, just a few years older than Raelynn. Madrick turned back to the little hopeful Raelynn, whose blue eyes beamed in the dark tunnel.

  He shook his head. “Not this time,
Raelynn.”

  Raelynn furrowed her eyebrows at Selenora and then looked back up at her father. “It’s not fair that you teach her everything and not me. And look, I’m getting so much better at magic!” The little Raelynn made a little puff of black fire and smoke from her hand.

  Madrick snapped forward and grabbed her hands, looking her in the eye. “Don’t do that, Raelynn. I’ve told you not to show your Taurimous.”

  She looked on the verge of tears.

  Madrick picked up his voice. “Go, now! Go back to the Nexus!” Raelynn turned away and left, crying as she went.

  Madrick turned to Selenora. “Let’s keep going.” The young Selenora nodded her head. Madrick scratched his chin. “Here’s something to try. I haven’t taught you yet how to mold your Taurimous into objects, have I?”

  Selenora shook her head. “I don’t think so.”

  Madrick formed a little silver flame in his hand. “We can use our Taurimous to create objects that we can control.” The small silver flame formed into a small key. “See?”

  Selenora stared in awe. “Is it real?”

  Madrick shook his head. “It’s only a replica; as soon as I want it to disappear, it can.” The key in his hand vanished into thin air. He looked at the young Selenora. “Why don’t you give it a try?”

  “What should I make?” she asked.

  Madrick thought for a moment. “Well, Miss ‘Everrose,’ why don’t you make a rose? It’d be fitting.”

  Selenora thought for a minute and then formed a little crimson flame in her hand. Blood-red fire floated around her hand and danced beautifully between her fingertips. Concentrating hard, she began to form the fire into a rose.

  Madrick laughed, “That’s very good, Selenora!” But very quickly, his laughter vanished. Behind Selenora on the floor of the cavern, glowing roses — dozens of real flowers — were springing up and growing from nothing.

  Madrick’s heart raced and his blood froze with fear. “Stop!” he yelled.

  Selenora jumped, making the flower in her hand disappear. “What did I do wrong?” she said, looking at him.

  Madrick pretended to be playful, trying not to look at the flowers behind her. “Oh nothing, you were wonderful, it’s just time to go back now.” Grabbing her hand, he pulled her out of the cavern. But just before they rounded the corner, Selenora glanced back and saw the patch of glowing roses growing right where she stood.

  In his office, Madrick shivered, remembering the long-gone event like it was yesterday. He shook his head as thoughts raced through his mind. Manipulating life with a Taurimous . . . he thought . . . accessing the Tenebris . . . She’s up to something . . . I can feel it.

  War Council and Wine

  Chapter Twelve

  ~Midday, September 18th

  Eston sat at an ornate oak desk below a bedroom window looking out into the faraway wooded hills of Ferramoor, where the yellowing trees popped out against the green. His fingers traced a small black rock he held in his hand; its shape was perfectly circular and thin, ideal for skipping across water.

  His mind flashed back to when he picked it up off the sandy shore just five miles west of Aunestauna. His little six year old hands dug into the wet sand and held the stone for his father to see. But a large wave hit the little prince and swept him into the water, causing him to lose hold of the stone. An arm reached around him and pulled him back to shore. Tronum’s more youthful face filled with relief when his son started coughing on the sand. The King had caught the stone when the wave hit and returned it to Eston.

  A knock echoed on his large bedroom doors. Eston quickly opened his top left desk drawer and placed the skipping stone inside of it on a velvet cloth. “Enter.” he called.

  Queen Eradine stepped inside the doors wearing a long blue gown. She walked over to Eston and put her hand on his shoulder. “You can come out more, you know.” Eradine pulled over a chair and sat next to Eston. Hints of her childhood accent from Parusmare dotted her speech. She sighed. “It’s alright, it’s been three weeks.”

  To avoid the conversation, Eston picked up a scroll on his desk and pretended to read it. “Father doesn’t want me around him. He sees me as a disgrace for wandering off into the second district and getting-”

  His mother sighed. “Your father was mad, yes, and I was too. Was it a foolish thing to do? Of course. But do we forgive you? Of course.”

  Eston flipped over his scroll. “If he forgives me, then why isn’t he here himself? Mother, you and I both know that Father doesn't want me to inherit his kingdom; he would rather have Fillian sit on the throne.”

  Eradine looked down with a sadness in her eyes. “Eston, I love you with all my heart; you and Fillian equally . . . Your father refuses to see the fine prince than you have become; you’re still his little boy. He doesn’t feel right giving you a kingdom stuck in war with your aunt . . .” She glanced at his Eston’s scroll. “I think you should have a speaking seat in the senate meeting today.”

  Eston looked up. “You think that after all the shame I got from Father and how it traveled around the palace-”

  “I don’t care, Eston. I don’t care how your father feels; you are a prince and you are more informed than some of the senators present in the Council.” Eston looked out into the distance while his mother held her gaze. “Eston, you want to help your people, and that’s the most important part of being a leader. I don’t know where this new-found sense of adventure is coming from, but it’s valuable and I don’t want you to lose it. You made a mistake; now it’s time to show everyone that you’re better than that.”

  Eston stood up. “The Council decides on matters without taking my advice into consideration.”

  “Well, soon they will have to consider your thoughts.” said Eradine. “You see the way your father moves; it’s mechanical and shaky. I have to put on his crown for him . . . He’s sick, Eston.”

  “I know.”

  The queen walked to the window. “Show your father. He doesn’t ignore Sir Whittingale’s good reports of you; he wants to leave the kingdom in good hands. Once your father goes, I too lose the majority of my power and give it to whomever you choose to marry.” Eston remained silent. Eradine adjusted the sleeve of her long blue dress. “And concerning your brother . . . he looks up to you. In fact, he convinced me not to demote Benja Tiggins for arranging your absence, even though Sir Whittingale recommended it.” She walked to the doors and pushed them open and was stopped by Eston thanking her, with which she replied with a simple smile. “And Eston,” she added, “Qerru-Mai will be at the Council.” Her blue dress trailed her as she left his enormous bedroom.

  A throng of faces reflected in the thousands of crystals in chandeliers that hung around the rim of the senate chamber. Tronum and Eradine sat together on the highest terrace of seats; below them sat Eston. To his right, a very old man, Prophet Ombern of the Church of the Great Mother, stroked his long white beard. On his other side, Qerru-Mai quickly flourished a quill across parchment, taking notes of the proceedings of the meeting. She had skin like creamy chocolate and attentive eyes that swept the room, analyzing every second, seemingly unaware of the prince’s presence next to her. Sharing her dark skin and curled hair, her mother, Senator An’Drui stood to address the Council.

  “If I may. The Council has seemingly dismissed the fact that our intelligence still does not know how Xandria retrieved this information. The construction of Camp Stoneheart will be a primary defense in preventing the advance of Cerebrian forces through Endlebarr, and now Xandria knows its location.”

  “I propose,” said a governor across the hall, “that we mandate our Generals undergo inspections of their high ranking supervisors to find the culprit who betrayed us.”

  Sir Whittingale stood by a window. “You seem to forget, Governor, that Xandria wants us to lose trust in our leadership. She is not preoccupied with Camp Stoneheart, for it provides a fraction of the defense for us that the Great Gate provides for Cerebria. The last battalion in s
outheast Endlebarr was sent back to be stationed at the southern pass on the tenth. For the next four to five months, there will be little to no war in southern Endlebarr.” Whittingale put his hands in the pockets of his long black coat. “Now that winter has fallen in the Taurbeir-Krons, she knows where our forces are concentrated, and vice versa. Because her forces have been occupied defending southeastern Endlebarr, we have seen little of what advantage the Gate will give her. We cannot allow this Council to be distracted with issues that tear apart our command; rather, we should focus on how we can attack Xandria while defending our side of Endlebarr.”

  Prophet Ombern remain seated, but his voice boomed. “Perhaps we infiltrate her system. I’m sure there is some way to get a spy in her castle and send us messenger birds.”

  Eston almost laughed but caught himself. This is my time. He stood up and placed his hands on the table in front of him. “That is much easier said than done. Out of seven spy missions, one resulted in captivity and no information, and six resulted in the spies’ deaths, again with no information. Xandria’s system is impenetrable.”

  “And you have a solution?” asked Prophet Ombern.

  “Xandria’s military prioritizes weapons and machines over sheer number of men, which is our advantage. The next leading producer in tech industry is the Crandles.”

  “You propose we miraculously get those pacifists to fight our war?” mocked Ombern.

  “No.” said the prince. He hesitated and his heart beat rapidly. “I propose that we eliminate all tariffs on Cran products.” Murmurs echoed throughout the chamber. “The Crans will be more incentivized to sell to us, rather than to Cerebria. By making Xandria pay more for weaponry, we destabilize her primary advantage. We may lose money, but we may also win the war.”