The Fractured Heartstone

by Ian Thornburrow-Dobson

  “Come again?” asked the Captain

  “It’s been almost a week,” Lothram repeated softly.

  “I think we should get him somewhere private where everything can be explained,” said Raelynne.

  Raelynne’s presence was still inexplicable to Ydari but she seemed determined to be involved in the conversation. He allowed himself to be led away and they settled in Ydari’s office once more. Unbidden, Idrahil joined them, pulling the door closed behind her with an efficient snap. Dizziness made Ydari’s footsteps falter as he took a seat behind his desk and his eye passed over the people assembled, his two most trusted watchmen, Idrahil and Lothram, and the unknown but resolute Raelynne. They all looked upon him with grim faces and there was an air of nervousness in the room that was palpable. Ydari coughed deeply as he got his wits about him.

  “So, what exactly happened in the catacombs and why is the mage here?” Ydari queried seriously. He raised a hand to his head as a twinge of pain made its presence felt.

  “What do you remember?” Idrahil asked, her face still a mask.

  “We were in the catacombs and we were ambushed,” Ydari recalled. “We began to fight but there were too many of them so we began to fall back slowly. After that I was in agony and my head was filled with scenes straight out of legend. I felt this overwhelming power taking over me and I acted unconsciously. The last thing I recall seeing is hooded men flying about in all directions and then I blacked out.”

  “I see...” Lothram murmured.

  “There was a blue gem in the room. Do you remember that?” Idrahil pressed, interrupting her fellow watch member.

  “I do. We were stood around it when all of this started,” Ydari replied. “Something... unspeakable was emanating from it.”

  “May I interject at this moment?” Raelynne asked through pursed lips. She had been tapping her foot impatiently as if she were surrounded by amateurs fumbling their way toward the truth. “I believe I hold some of the answers that you seek.”

  “Well you were making a ruckus in my watch house before any of this started. I don’t believe that much in coincidences,” Ydari replied dryly.

  “It all started because of this,” said Raelynne. She leaned forward as she said it and grasped Ydari’s tunic in an overly familiar fashion. He tried to swat her hand away but she tugged the garment out of the way and audible gasps emitted from Lothram and Idrahil. Ydari looked down at his chest and exhibited a similar reaction. The blue gem was firmly lodged in his torso and resonated with a low hum. After a few moments Ydari jerked the garment free from her grip. “This gem has found a host and it’s beginning to consume you. Unless you get my help and knowledge you won’t have any idea what is happening,” exclaimed Raelynne.

  “Alright, I need to know exactly what happened after I passed out in those damn tunnels,” Ydari snapped as he shot an accusatory glance at Lothram who merely shrugged in response. “Did anything else get crammed into me on the way back here? I don’t want to wake up tomorrow with half the city wall crumbling out of my...”

  “Ahh, same old Ydari. Deflecting difficult situations with humour,” Lothram retorted sarcastically.

  “Just get on with it. What happened after I lost consciousness? At least tell me you were able to take one prisoner who was involved in the assassination attempt,” Ydari replied.

  “I’m not an idiot! I know how to do my job,” Lothram barked in an offended tone. “After we pulled you out of there, I had some men go back and round up the men you hadn’t mashed into a fine paste. They’re now being interrogated by the Palace Guard,” the Sergeant snapped. “As for you Captain, after that gem lit up the entire cavern you collapsed. After you got back up you somehow threw our attackers around like they were toddlers and you were a neglectful nanny. But, with your mind.”

  “That doesn’t sound at all pleasant,” Ydari mumbled. “Good work though. What I’m wondering though is where you fit into all this?” the Captain asked, directing his question to the mage.

  “It’s my turn now is it?” Raelynne quipped acidly. “I’ll be forthcoming. I have been following you for some time.”

  “And why would you be doing that?” Ydari queried.

  “Because of that.” The mage started as she raised a finger and pointed at Ydari, indicating the gem. “I am a member of an order of Magi who have guarded the lost lore and secrets of Dragon kind. We’re not the only order fascinated by lost knowledge. The group you found in the tunnels was a sect of a much larger cult of Dragon worshippers, the Draconis Legium. They pray to their Dragon Gods and hoard any artefacts and knowledge they find without truly understanding it,” explained Raelynne. She paused as all eyes turned to her. “For instance, some of their order remain woefully ignorant of the true nature of the Dragons and the prophecy that proclaims the return of the Creator. And at the centre is that gem and another almost exactly like it half a world away.” Raelynne’s voice trailed off and she was faced with raised eyebrows.

  “So, I’m going to fulfil a prophecy?” Ydari asked incredulously.

  “That remains to be seen,” the mage replied. “I should start at the beginning...”

  “You mean to say you started in the creamy centre?” Ydari quipped. Raelynne returned this attempt at humour with a blank stare.

  “As I was saying, every religion in Efealtor has a theory about how the world came to be. But these are all wrong. It was the Dragons who preceded all other life. Their God, Althanir, created everything and he did it with the Heartstone. Althanir’s power was too strong so he forged a gem which would act as a conduit, as a way to channel his power in concentrated form. Inside this his essence resided and through it he fashioned everything this world contains,” Raelynne explained. The three watchmen remained silent as they hung on her every word. “Mankind was created much later and eventually they came to envy the power of the Dragons. A man by the name of Radgard led a group of men to the Belegraad Mountains where Althanir resided and tried to claim the Heartstone for themselves.”

  “I’ve heard of Radgard,” Lothram mused absent-mindedly interrupting Raelynne. She shot him a look which caused him to shrug his shoulders innocently but it wasn’t enough for him to relent. “The men of the northern provinces proclaim Radgard to be a hero,” the Sergeant continued.

  “That may be the case but the real story was lost to legend,” Raelynne shot back.

  “And your version is the only one that happens to be correct?” the Sergeant asked, much to the mage’s annoyance.

  “I think I have heard enough bickering this morning!” Ydari exclaimed exasperatedly. “Please continue.”

  “As I was saying,” Raelynne started as she shot a sideways glance at Lothram that was practically laden with daggers, “Radgard led a group of men to claim the power of the Heartstone for themselves because he coveted power. He was able to make his way to the summit of the tallest peak of the Belegraad Mountains where the Heartstone was kept. A tremendous battle ensued and most of his men were lost but Radgard was able to make it to the gem and he tried to take it. At his touch, his malice and lust for power corrupted the purity of the gem and Althanir’s soul. This caused the gem to shatter into seven shards, each a different colour which is where the rainbow originated since each shard comprises one of those colours.” Raelynne stopped as she saw Lothram shift in his seat. Ydari waved at him irritably and the man closed his mouth before he had another chance to interject.

  “So, this gem in my chest is one of the shards?” Ydari deduced.

  “Correct. As my order understands it all the shards, save two, were lost to time. We don’t understand the exact nature of the shards or the power they hold but some had theorised that Radgard’s malicious nature caused the Heartstone to break and when he corrupted it, it created the red shard. A gem of pure hatred and destruction whilst the blue gem holds the essence of the true Althanir, the shard of harmony and creation. As for the rest, we have no idea,” said Raelynne.

  “So how does this all fit int
o the prophecy?” Ydari asked, raising an eyebrow.

  “The prophecy was foretold ages past in the Efealean Saga. It states that there will come a time when war will sweep across the continent and in the ensuing chaos the Dragon God, Althanir, will be reborn,” stated Raelynne.

  “I’m sensing there’s more to it than that,” Ydari observed astutely.

  “Indeed, there is,” Raelynne said. She pursed her lips before plunging on. “The prophecy states that the red gem will be activated by being taken into a man who would reap destruction and chaos while the blue shard would also find its champion.”

  “So, you believe I’m this champion?” Ydari queried, sucking in a deep breath.

  “Given the details of the prophecy and from what I have seen, yes,” Raelynne replied. Ydari remained stony-faced as she continued. “It is said that during this war, the two champions would have to find the remaining gems and take the power of them into themselves before a final confrontation that would determine the victor. In essence, you would lose who you are and take on the knowledge and power of Althanir and whichever of the champions won the final battle, Althanir would be reborn as he was or as a being of pure destruction and usher in the end of days.”

  “But that means...” Ydari’s voice trailed off as his mind reeled from what he had just been told. It took a few moments for him to find the words. “That means either my death or the apocalypse,” he finished gravely. The Captain looked up at Raelynne to find some sign of hope. However, she merely returned his gaze with one almost as severe as his own.

  “I’m afraid that your interpretation may well be correct.”

  Chapter Six

  The air was thick with heat and the taste of stale sweat was carried on the wind, the press of unwashed humanity making living conditions in Mal Ithir a truly repugnant affair. Trelech turned his head haughtily at the blank faces that greeted him as he walked the streets. This area of the city was seldom frequented by the guards but now they were out in force as they patrolled in groups of two or three. Usually they were content enough to let the miserable souls who resided here wallow in their misery. Several times an errant guard had thrust a parchment with a crudely drawn version of his face toward Trelech and each time he had feigned ignorance, much to his amusement. He had laughed to himself as they walked off with blank expressions on their dim, uncomprehending features.

  The usual activity of the city held little interest to Trelech now though as the Prince recollected the last few days. He had been under the tutelage of the Dragon Cult; learning their legends and secrets and, above all else, learning what exactly had happened to him and how to begin to understand and control it. Merely feeling the power coursing through him had reinvigorated the exiled Prince and his plans now seemed as if all he had to do was to reach out and seize glory. His time with the cultists had been well spent. He was deep in thought as he pulled a hood over his head and adopting a limp as a group of three guards went about their patrols. He secretly smirked to himself as they walked, unaware of his presence as he slipped by. Trelech only had one destination in mind on this day. He glanced up and the grim and foreboding structure of the royal keep beckoned.

  The red gem shard burned in his chest as Trelech raised a hand to it and felt its warmth through his garments and, to him, it seemed to be laughing uproariously at the spectacle that was to come. The Prince pulled the hood further over him so that his face was obscured in a veil of darkness, save for two ominous red orbs that peered out menacingly. The effect caused many people to stumble out of his way unbidden, as if driven to do so by an unuttered command. Trelech licked his lips in anticipation as he began his ascent towards The Plateau. Around him merchants and carts went about their business that was in stark contrast to the silence that lingered oppressively over the poor. Here and there a few weary and beleaguered citizens stopped to catch their breath, unable to tackle the tremendous slope in one sitting. Trelech strode on confidently, his legs strong and true.

  A few minutes later the ground under him levelled out and he looked about the square that now opened out ahead of him. The Prince had been here many times but he had never before taken in as much detail as he did now. Somehow, being bonded with the red gem had changed his perspective of the world and he now glared with a renewed intensity and vigour, drinking in every detail. Most of the foot traffic was at the western end of the square where most of the shops and stalls lined the streets, the shrill voices of hawkers drifting to his ears. Advancing about the magnificent space, a group of twenty guards trooped in their finery with regimented monotony. People still milled about at the eastern end where most of the taverns and inns were located and these establishments seldom experienced the trouble of the lower wards since they catered to the wealthy and privileged. There were less people gathered here but it was still early in the day and every evening they would be heaving with patrons.

  “Soon I will rule over all of this,” Trelech muttered to himself.

  The Prince’s mind wandered as he continued walking, as he imagined what it would be like to be the reigning monarch and envisioning the sprawling kingdom that would come under his sway. He was only vaguely aware of the major cities and provinces that made up Akanthir but that mattered little; he would be master of all and there would be time enough for the subjugation of his people as well as the rest of Efealtor. He licked his lips once more, his mind now completely adrift as he approached the main gates that barred entrance to the keep in which he had been a resident, only days before. Trelech didn’t even hear the barked command the guards on duty shrilled toward him, merely lost in a world that was entirely his own. He was stopped in his tracks suddenly as the guard sidestepped, his raised arm pressing against Trelech’s shoulder. The guard wore a bleak expression and was barely amused as Trelech ignored yet another gruffly delivered instruction to halt. Finally, Trelech snapped to his senses and looked at the man who was obstructing his progress. He was bemused at the arrogance of the man as he spoke once again.

  “Are you deaf or just stupid!?” the guard bellowed. “I said no unauthorised entry, so turn around and piss off.”

  “Awfully sorry,” Trelech apologised disingenuously, “I didn’t see you there. But then again, a man of my station barely registers the help,” the Prince finished in an agonisingly patronising tone.

  “So, you’re stupid then!” the guard exclaimed as he brandished a halberd threateningly at Trelech.

  “Now, now,” Trelech started. “I believe I have an audience with the King and you’re in my way.” The guard blanched in reaction to this, throwing his colleague a look of incredulity. “Besides, I’m sure you’d be a popular man if you allowed me to pass,” Trelech intoned arrogantly. He pushed his hood back as he said this. Instantly, the second guard sprang into action as recognition dawned on their faces. In a moment two halberds were thrust into the Prince’s chest and he could feel tiny pricks of cold steel pressing against his flesh lightly.

  “You cur!” the guard swore vehemently. “You made a mistake coming back here. But I’ll be glad when I see your worthless body dancing at the end of a noose. You killed my friends and I’ll happily pull the lever to end your wretched existence,” he spat with a spray of saliva.

  “My, if I had only known that I would be having a second shower I wouldn’t have bothered with the first one,” the Prince replied sarcastically. His face twisted into a sinister sneer that unnerved the guards for a moment but they kept their weapons levelled steadily. “I admire your gall but you think you’re in control of this situation and I’m afraid to say you have no idea what you’re in for. But I do,” Trelech said, oozing arrogant confidence.

  Suddenly Trelech knocked the halberds to one side and stretched his leg out in front of him. The sole of his boot cracked into the first guard’s solar plexus and the collision sent him careening into the concrete at speed, his armour having absorbed most of the impact. The second guard reacted quicker than Trelech had anticipated. His weapon buzzed by his ear, narrowly mis
sing him by a few inches. The exiled Prince stepped forward and smashed his forehead into the second guard’s grim visage accompanied by the crunch of cartilage being crushed. The weapon clattered on the ground as the second guard raised his hands to his nose in a vain attempt to stem the pain that throbbed in his cheeks, whimpering in surprise as he did so. By now the first guard was scrabbling back to his feet furiously.

  Trelech took a few steps back as the two men before him stared daggers at their aggressor. He laughed wildly at the sight of blood bubbling its way out of the guard’s nose and his maniac grin stretched even wider as he closed his eyes and began to concentrate. The two men in front of him stopped short, unsure what to make of Trelech’s brazenness. A strange guttural tongue began to spill forth from the Prince’s mouth and the air around him crackled and shimmered like a fire ripping through a house. The two men backed away uncertainly as Trelech’s chest lit up, an ominous red glow shining through his robe. The first guard stared transfixed whilst his companion, possessing the stronger survival instinct, turned to run to safety. It was too late however as Trelech opened his eyes, the two orbs glowing with evil luminescence before he raised his arm. Fire spewed forth and drenched the first guard in a wall of flame that tore through his body with unimaginable speed and ferocity. He let out a final whisper before his body keeled over, ash showering into the air and steam rising off his still warm bones.

  The second guard tripped and fell to the ground in a heap after witnessing the devastation wrought on his colleague and he jabbered uselessly as the dreaded form of Trelech advanced on him. Trelech glowered at the pathetic creature that had been so sure of himself mere moments before but now cowered at his feet. The guard raised a hand over his face as if this simple action would make the Prince relent and prevent his flesh and sinew from being blazed to a cinder. Trelech however laughed maniacally and raised his limb once more. The guard was struck with another inferno and the heat ripped into him at terrifying speed, accompanied by a high-pitched squealing as the poor man was practically boiled alive in his armour. The man’s husk shrivelled up into a blackened mess and Trelech laughed haughtily at the power he had just unleashed, casting his eyes at both of his victims and his chest swelling in pride at the scene of chaos.