Age of the Marcks

by Gregory Benson

  “It’s through the most sacred place in Troika, the inverted Crystalline Forest of Mothoa. The entrance, I think, is just after that steep cliff we flew over in the sky carrier at the very thickest portion of the forest of stone. In fact, the inverted forest is directly below those stone pillars. From there, the old rumors say, there’s a tunnel into the lower levels of Alcazar.”

  “Well, let’s get to poundin’ feet. We have no time to spare standin’ around here flappin’ our jaws.” Krath shoved his looking glasses back into his pack.

  ***

  Surrounded on either side by natural rock walls, the pillared forest was nestled neatly between a steep cliff drop-off and the open field leading to the Alcazar. They snuck their way into the forest of stone by belly crawling through the taller grass until they reached the first pillars. There wouldn’t be time to waste as the curious guards might question the length of time they spent in the small patch of woods and begin searching for them.

  Inside the forest, the cool, crisp air filled their lungs with a sparkling energy that pulsated throughout the sacred land. The towering behemoths of the stone forest produced an eerie feeling. The deeper Crix and the others traveled inward, the more densely packed the pillars became. A strange sense that they were attempting to crowd them out and wanted to prevent them from going further fell over Crix. Eventually, the forest’s sparse patches of bright-green grass dispersed into a smooth stone floor, and the light dimmed to near darkness from the unforgiving pillars.

  Kerriah rubbed her arms for warmth. “This place is beginning to give me the creeps.” It was already chilly in Crein, and it felt even colder within the stone pillar forest.

  Startled by a strong gust that weaved through the pillars and produced a squawking scream, the three nearly jumped out of their skin, even Krath.

  “I don’t like it either.” Crix’s voice echoed through the narrow, stone maze. “This area is forbidden, and it would not bode well if we were caught here. According to ancient lore, the stone pillars have some significance with the inverted Crystalline Forest below. The specific details of which have been kept mostly secret.”

  It was difficult to shake off the feeling that someone or something was watching them. Then, Krath’s shoulder brushed up against one of the pillars, causing it to release a dreadful wail as though he had awoken a tortured soul from within. He stopped and curiously placed his hand on the pillar. He needed to set his mind at ease that the noise did not actually originate from within its core. The wailing came out again and intensified until he removed his hand. The awful noise had an unnerving curl that was reminiscent of a suffering animal. Crix and Kerriah stopped and looked over at Krath with immense concern.

  “All right, guys,” Krath said, “I think we may have a problem.”

  Crix’s face turned ghost white. “What did you do?” he whispered, worried about the response.

  “I just brushed up against this thing, and it started ballowerin’ like a sufferin’ beast.”

  “Aww, great!” Crix appeared stressed as he motioned at them to get away from the pillars. “Please, just try to keep as far from them as possible.”

  “Sure thing, buddy, but there’s not much space to keep clear with when tya’re my size, and it’s gettin’ tighter as we go on. If it keeps like this, I’m going to be pushin’ my way through these things.”

  Kerriah took a close inspection of a pillar and cautiously blew air onto it in hopes of getting a benign reaction. “What’s the story with these, Crix? Are they some sort of living organism?”

  “I don’t know. The common Andor is given little knowledge of Mothoa. A limited group only knows its true secrets. There are, however, many old myths and tales. I just don’t know which to believe,” answered Crix as he looked up to the tops of the stone pillars.

  Kerriah crouched down to examine the base of the pillar. “Well, I’m not one to buy into myths or folklores, but . . . if they hold any bit of information that could be important, I would be very interested.”

  Crix looked down and took a deep breath. “The one that stands out in my mind right now is the tale of Suros. As the ancient myths go, he was a great Andor chief who gave his life to destroy the rogue faction led by his brother Tersik.” Crix pressed his palm against his forehead, ran his hand through his hair, and grabbed the bottom of his face. He strained to recall the details of the story. He exhaled loudly with stress in his voice. He had taken for granted the old stories and did not think he would ever need to recall them for a serious purpose. The younger generation of Andors had not had the ancient lore passed on to them as staunchly as the previous ones had.

  “I don’t recall the story exactly, but Suros was pretty much the unwavering example of Andorian honor and bravery. When his power-hungry brother, Tersik, turned against him to rein terror upon the Andor civilization, he sacrificed himself to save Troika. This secretive lore casts over this hallowed ground, as well as these pillars, and this was the epicenter where the conflict finally ended. No one ever enters here, and those that have . . . never come back. And here we are trouncing right in the middle of it.” Crix meant to be sarcastic, and yet, he was still concerned over what their fates might be for such an ill-mannered defiance.

  “Hmmm . . . that’s a real nice story and all, but I just wanted to know why these oversized sausage tubes are wallerin’ at me.” Krath poked his finger on one of the pillars. “Problem is . . . now tya got me a bit scared.” He gave a mocking smirk and started heading deeper into the pillar forest. “Come on! Our favorite walking scrap army will be here soon, so we got to keep movin’.” Crix reluctantly jogged to catch up with Krath; Kerriah followed close behind him.

  Within moments, the daylight unexpectedly grew into pitch-black darkness. A shiver settled over Crix, and suddenly, he became short of breath.

  “Krath? Kerriah?” he called out and waited.

  He was unable to see anything and swung around desperately, banging his elbow into one of the pillars. A horrible, painful shrill screamed out from the once-silent piece of stone. Crix detected no other sounds within this space and no replies from Kerriah or Krath, only an eerie silence mixed with the throbbing thump of his fast-beating heart. It pounded—pounding so loud he was positive someone or something would hear it. He moved his hands blindly around to assist his lack of sight. The only thing he felt was the irrepressible stone pillars, and each time one was touched, it executed that awful shrill that echoed through the forest.

  Where are they?

  Thoughts raced through his mind, and he tried not to succumb to the overwhelming feelings of fear and uneasiness. He wanted to take captive every thought. A whispering hiss fluttered from all directions as though something was searching for him. His throat tightened, his stomach felt constricted, and his eyes were unable to focus. Then, at that moment, an icy hand grabbed his shoulder. He helplessly yelled out and awkwardly spun around. There was nothing there: no light, no sounds, not even a wisp of a breeze.

  A sizzling, like that of searing flesh, echoed through the narrow maze of stone, and a dark blue light poured out from behind him. He turned around again to find himself illuminated. The intensity of the light blinded him, and it turned from blazing blue to bright white. Now, instead of complete blackness, he witnessed pure white and total silence. Then the white light slowly dissipated into achromatic shades of both black and white. He began to identify the shapes around him.

  For a moment, he caught a glimpse of a massive creature, similar in shape to the statue he had observed near the Alcazar’s reflecting pool. The creature was a lengthy, globule form. Its flesh swirled as if storms brewed within it, and near the top of this being resided an expanse, which held a perfect void of both color and light. However, there was one thing Crix found to be most extraordinary—the creature had a great stone beard. The massive beard consisted of hundreds of giant, stone-like pillars similar to those that he and his friends had encountered in the forest.

  The creature took notice of Crix. T
he mysterious void on top of the being turned toward him, and though it was without light, he felt it stare into his soul. A deep profoundness and quiet solace within this giant sent an uncomfortable chill that rushed down Crix’s spine. It seemed strange that such a great being would even take notice of something as small and insignificant as Crix.

  The white light around the creature abruptly shattered away and returned to blue. Then, a tall, dark Andorian figure stepped out from the illumination while the massive titan inquisitively continued to watch. Fog poured from the Andor’s eyes, blending into the sea of blue. His black armor glistened around his massive shoulders and forearms. The helmet molded to fit the shape of his head with a round emblem protruding from the top. His silver mane blew out from the bottom of his helmet as a strong breeze whisked up, bringing with it a sulfurous odor. The Andor advanced fluidly toward Crix, brandishing a long, curved blade in his right hand.

  Going against his inner desire to hide the orb and not expose its location, Crix prepared to do what was necessary to defend himself from the uncertainty of this warrior’s intention. As the Andor came upon him, uncomfortably too close, Crix held his hand out, ready to give this Andor a suppressing blast of orb power. His hand popped and crackled with blue energy then diffused back to normal. Crix turned his palm around with a look of confusion before trying once again. Blue energy surged from his fingertips and swirled around his hand, and then nothing.

  Strange?

  “There is no need to conjure your enigmatic powers against me, young Nathainian. I assure you that your efforts would only be in vain.” His voice shook the ground with a boom which was so grave the words were unintelligible. Yet they filled Crix’s mind, and he understood with perfect clarity.

  “I know all there is to know about you and where your destiny lies. As you are beginning to comprehend, any living force cannot harm me, including the cosmic power that dwells within your body as it too is living. The wholeness of my power is connected to this land for which you behold.”

  “Are you—” Crix inquired, shaking with trepidation.

  Before he could finish, the Andor swung his blade around and plunged it into the stone floor with a thunderous crack.

  “Enough! You will not speak but listen only! There is nothing from your tongue that could enlighten me, and there is much for you to learn. Even as you seek passage into the forbidden Crystalline Forest of Mothoa, the enemy hovers overhead in its vessels of steel, ready to sack the great lands of Troika. My influence over this region has allowed me to place time in repose for a transitory moment. This brief juncture will provide you the knowledge regarding Troika’s origins, which is required for you to clear this portion of your journey.” He paused, and Crix slowly dropped to his knees as if this figure somehow inaudibly commanded, and he obeyed.

  “I am Suros, and I have guarded Mothoa and its secrets for countless generations. All who have attempted to pass without warrant into these hallowed grounds have fallen to my blade. Listen to my account, and you, Nathainian, will be the first to pass with your body and spirit intact.”

  He stepped out in front of his implanted blade and raised his arms toward the sky. Behind him, a cone of light blasted out from the blade. This light gave an ethereal illustration to the blackness of the sky. The massive, bearded creature moved through the emanating light from beyond the blackness and behind Suros. A mouth appeared on the great creature, and it opened as wide as the cone of light from Suros’s blade. The blade’s light bent around and turned into the creature’s mouth. There was an intense flash, and then everything looked different. The land was barren, devoid of life and vegetation. Huge geysers burst nitrogen high into the airless atmosphere, filling the skyline with a murky hue.

  “What you witness now is Troika, or as your kind would refer to it as Soorak, before the time of the Laggorns and their reshaping of this world. To understand how we received the world we have today, we must visit another distant system from long ago, a system that was the birthplace of the Laggorns.”

  The scene changed to a system that surrounded a cerulean star. “The Laggorns once reigned over the living system of Auroro where, under their influence, life somehow flourished beyond the bounds and atmospheres of the planets. The exact origins of the Laggorns are not fully known. I only know that when the universe was very young, a great power deposited into that system. A power that I do not understand, though I accept. When it settled, twelve Laggorns emerged.

  “At first, they were without shape, as shape was insignificant to them. The Auroro System consisted of thirteen worlds surrounding a massive, blue star. The radiant energy from this star ignited the power within these beings, and they became aware of each other and their surroundings. As thousands of years passed, their intellect thrived in what far exceeded anything we could comprehend. As such, they collaborated and agreed to focus their abilities to create a flourishing and wondrous system.”

  As Suros narrated, the images continued to transform; the Laggorns appeared in the Auroro System as luminescent hazes of violet, forms that represented the Laggorns in their earliest embodiment. A view of each world within the system faded in and out, displaying landscapes that flourished and spawned bizarre shapes of animal and vegetation lifeforms. Suros continued.

  “Eventually, the Laggorns took physical forms for the benefit of the species they created so that those species could recognize them. In time, they reshaped all the worlds of the Auroro System. As many millennia passed, their abilities and love for creation grew so strong that they could no longer remain within the confines of these thirteen worlds and their natural limitations. So they created life to withstand these boundaries and filled the voids of space between the worlds.”

  Crix noticed the planetary skylines changing from blue and black to a flourishing kaleidoscope of color and imagination. The lifeless space between these worlds filled with their creations. Uncountable lifeforms streamed across this blaze of imagination and danced with joy and abundance.

  “They knew not suffering and were protected from environmental harms that would have ill effects on the living as we know it.”

  Suros paused as if to take in the wonders that maybe he had only seen a limited number of times. “To look into these skies, to travel this system, would have taken even the most mundane soul and instantly turned him into a master visionary. Alas, from the great blue star that once sparked their wondrous abilities, it was also to be responsible for their eventual demise.

  “The colors in the sky rippled and then turned grey. A brilliant blue and red flash pulsed across the skyline, and a spear of energy that spanned light-years thrust deep through the heart of their great system, devastating everything as their blue star exploded.

  “Of the twelve, four were in the outer reaches of the Auroro System at the time of this cataclysmic event, working to expand their wonders when the smaller thirteenth world they were on was broken apart and expelled into deep space. The four Laggorns bound themselves together and went into a dormant state for one hundred ages.

  “They hurled through space without direction until their dormant mass happened upon the dual star system of Oro, which awakened their dormancy. The fourth being, Trias, the Laggorn of the seas, never awoke, and its great force expired as it fell upon our neighboring moon of Thale where its surface engulfed with water, and its last vestige of power set forth unto that world. The other three, the Laggorns of the winds, the beasts, and trees, placed themselves upon Troika. There, they began their reshaping of this world. Limited by the lesser stars of the Oro System, they had not the power to cast beyond this local world like before. In time, their powers ran short, and their once infinite lifespans waned; they could feel their days numbered. In a final effort to preserve their kind, they chose to merge their remaining powers into one.

  “The Laggorn of the beasts, who we call Equus, would be the one to carry on for the next millennia. As the other two passed and the centuries crept by, the Laggorn of beasts became lonesome. It dec
ided to create an evolution of its most beloved beasts, the Andors, the great equines. This creation, this race, was the one that made the Laggorn the most pleased.

  “Equus admired their majestic coats that glistened in the daytime light and shimmered in the lucid glow of Oro under the nighttime sky. They had strong, chiseled faces and dark eyes that looked up at the Equus as though they could speak to it through their expressions. Equus gave them knowledge and speech. However, seeing them run on four legs was no longer fitting for a creature of higher intellect and noble spirit; as such, it altered their posture to walk upright and gave them hands to bear tools and build creations of their own.

  “Time passed, and the Andors evolved as a species under the Equus’s care. They formed a nation built on principles, stoicism, and honor. A deep history of great leaders emerged, and their lands never knew of war or cruelty. The nation’s grand chief would always turn to the Equus for counsel and pass this wisdom unto his nation.”

  The scenes continued to play out in the background as Suros progressed through the journey. Sites of great halls and towns of wood and stone emerged. The Andors adorned in fine clothes strolled about contently.

  “It was the golden age of the Andor as each had a cup that was overflowing with prosperity. In the time of the eighth millennia, a grand chief was born from the greatest of all grand chiefs . . . Litore. Litore founded the elite Moraks, which heroically repelled attacks from the beasts of the neighboring land of Satore. At the time, it was not fully understood why the Equus allowed these creatures to attack its beloved Andors; however, it was evident by later generations that it was preparing them for their future—their future void of its counsel and protection.

  “Litore had two male offspring with the eldest being Tersik, who was to inherit the title of Grand Chief. Tersik, however, was spoiled and greedy. He plotted to overthrow Litore and later raised a rebellion to kill Equus with the flawed mindset that he could steal its power and knowledge for himself. When Litore discovered Tersik’s plot, he banished him, setting the youngest offspring as the new heir.