by Sam Ferguson
“Necromancers, I thought the kingdom was rid of those dark arts long ago? Isn’t that the whole point to having a Keeper of Secrets, appointed by the Ancients themselves? Your job, as was the job of every Keeper before you, is to ensure that there are no necromancers in the kingdom.”
“Yes, that is part of my job, but there is more to it than that,” Lepkin replied evenly. “The Lievonian Order assisted the first Keeper put down the necromancers that threatened the kingdom, over three centuries ago. I ask you now, to honor your pledge of loyalty to the king by swearing yourselves to me in the fight that is to come with the Wyrms of Khaltoun.”
“You ask that which is already yours,” Grand Master Penthal said, rising to his feet. “As the Grand Master of the Lievonian Order, I pledge my sword and my life to the Keeper of Secrets.”
The knight on Grand Master Penthal’s right rose from his chair, adding his pledge to Master Lepkin. One by one, each of the seven knights swore their swords to him. When they had finished, Lepkin nodded and asked them to sit down.
“The Wyrms of Khaltoun are a different order of necromancers,” Lepkin began. He hesitated for a moment, guessing whether the knights were ready to hear the words that were to come out of his mouth. He looked around, meeting each pair of expecting eyes in turn and trying to read their faces. He needed help, and he knew that this order of knights was the most honorable in the realm, but if any of them proved to be false companions, it would spell disaster. He swallowed hard. His mouth turned dry. At last, he decided to tell them. “The Wyrms of Khaltoun are descendants of the authors of Nagar’s Secret.”
No one moved. The only sound louder than Lepkin’s beating heart was the quickened breathing of the knights. Lepkin could tell by their stunned reactions that they knew what this meant.
“I thought that they were wiped out long ago?” Maxim asked.
“It was believed to be so,” Lepkin said with a nod.
“How do you know for certain that it is them?” Grand Master Penthal asked.
“Lady Dimwater dealt with a Shadowfiend recently that had been in the process of preparing a town for harvest by the Wyrms of Khaltoun. The demon’s name was Be’alt the Black. We were lucky that a few of the townsfolk had escaped and alerted the Wizards Council. Be’alt the Black had the town so bewitched that they were practicing human sacrifice. These sacrifices fed his power, and helped him gain even more control over the region. If Lady Dimwater had not stopped him, he could very possibly have taken over the whole island of Kelboa in a matter of months. It would have been a perfect staging area for the Wyrms of Khaltoun. From that island they could have infiltrated the kingdom slowly, all the while prodding around for the book.”
“So,” Grand Master Penthal said as the shock left. “They have finally come.” The large man closed his eyes and cupped his forehead in his hands. “Gods be merciful.”
*****
The dense forest rose above Erik and Al on both sides of the dirt road. Dry leaves skitted across the ground as a breeze blew through the trees. Branches and vines swung lazily, carrying the fresh aroma of the forest after a night’s rain. The road wound its way through the forest like a brown, slinking serpent. The horses clipped along at a steady trot, as they had for most of the journey, except for mealtimes.
Erik looked to his companion, the dwarf, and watched him bob up and down on his horse. Erik had always thought that dwarves rode ponies because of their short legs, but Al proved to be quite the horseman despite his short stature. When Erik had asked once if all dwarves could ride horses, Al had just laughed and muttered something about tall folk that he couldn’t quite hear.
Al turned and caught Erik looking at him. “What?” he gruffed.
Erik felt awkward, so he made up a question to escape the dwarf’s searing gaze. “When will Master Lepkin catch up with us?” Erik asked.
“As soon as he is able,” Al replied. Pots and pans clanked together as the pack horse he led trotted behind them. The dwarf was not fond of missing meals, so he made sure to pack all he could possibly need for each trip. Erik had expected Master Lepkin to make Al leave the pack horse and travel lighter, but he had only rolled his eyes and laughed.
In some ways, Al was a lot like Master Lepkin, Erik thought. The dwarf was prone to answer questions with one or two words, a sentence if he had too, and a single nod without words if he could get away with it. He was just as rigid about Erik’s training too. Over the last day and a half of riding, Al had made Erik train with his waster at each meal before being allowed to eat. It was difficult to fight the dwarf. His short stature rendered many of Erik’s techniques useless. Erik could still feel every place on his body that the dwarf’s hammer had hit during the training sessions. With each strike of the hammer Erik would protest that Al was too rough. Al would just laugh and tell Erik not to get hit. Then, if that wasn’t enough, Al would insist that he was being as gentle as a dwarf knew how.
“Al, have you and Master Lepkin known each other for a long time?” Erik asked. Al grunted and nodded his head, but he kept his eyes to the road. Erik sighed. He felt mixed feelings about everything around him. Lady Dimwater said that he would play a vital part in protecting the kingdom, but wouldn’t tell him how. If he asked Master Lepkin, he would just say that he would explain it all “soon”. And if he asked Al, well he got even less out of the dwarf than from Master Lepkin. His curiosity had long since given way to frustration. He felt powerless to help his adopted father, and stuck in a fight that wasn’t of his choosing. He wanted answers.
The two of them rode for two more hours before they came to a great, rolling hill and the forest thinned. As they came over the top of the hill Erik saw a great citadel wall surrounding a red pagoda tower. The sight was enough to take Erik’s breath away. Great, thick walls of white stone rose up topped with battlements enclosed by a green tile roof. At each corner a square tower rose up from the ground, half again as tall as the wall, with red and gold flags flying over them. Despite Erik’s distance from the building, he could see that each corner of the pagoda style roof on each tower was fashioned into the head of a dragon. He looked beyond the wall to the tower in the center. Erik estimated that it must be at least seventy feet tall. It was the most magnificent structure he had ever seen before.
“That, is Valtuu Temple,” Al said, pointing with his hammer. “This is where we will wait for Master Lepkin. In the meantime, you have some studying to do.” Al prodded his horse gently and waved for Erik to follow.
Erik tapped Goliath’s sides and the mammoth horse lurched forward. He never took his eyes from the building. As they came closer he could see more detail built into the walls and the tower. The outside walls were not plain white, as he had thought. The closer he came the more he could see that the stones used were yellow, white, gray, and even a few darker stones. At first it seemed as though they were placed at random, but Erik soon realized that they were placed in a weaving pattern. It reminded him of a cream colored snake he had seen once. The effect of the sunlight reflecting off the wall was dazzling, almost blinding in fact. The large green double doors matched the color of the tile roof above, but it was not made of wood as Erik had thought. It was made of some kind of metal, though Erik didn’t know what. It wasn’t copper, he knew that. The green was too dark, and seemed to be natural, instead of brought on by age as happens with copper. The doors were studded with round protrusions. They weren’t spikes, but they weren’t like anything Erik had seen before. They looked almost like the round tops of black helmets.
“Stop here,” Al instructed, yanking Erik from his thoughts. The dwarf tossed the guide rope to Erik for the pack horse and slowly prodded his horse closer to the gate. “Guardians of the Valtuu Temple, I am Aldehenkaru’hktanah Sit’marihu, brother to Threntonsirai Sit’marihu, the King of Roegudok Hall. I have brought this boy by command of Master Lepkin, the Keeper of Secrets. I am here to teach him of the Ancients, and to prepare him for his duties.”
Erik looked up to the battlem
ents on the walls, but he saw no one. He looked to the towers, but again he saw nothing. He wondered if maybe all of the people were inside eating, or if something had happened to them. There was silence for a long time after Al had called out and introduced them. Only the wind ripping through the spaces in the tile of the roof could be heard. Then the door on the right creaked open, slowly at first, then a little faster as the dust fell from its surface and it gained momentum. A tall, lean man in white robes came out from the doorway and held his hand up greeting them.
“Hello, Al,” the man said.
“Heh, even they can’t pronounce my name,” Al snickered under his breath.
“We have been expecting you. A falcon arrived yesterday from Master Lepkin. He wanted you to know that he will be leaving Livany tomorrow. He says that he has spoken with the Lievonian Order and will be making a stop off at Roegudok Hall, to visit your brother.”
“Headstrong lubbocks,” Al grumbled. Erik had heard Al try to talk Master Lepkin out of going to Roegudok Hall before the three of them parted ways, but Master Lepkin was not one who would easily be dissuaded.
“Perhaps, it will please you to know that Master Lepkin also informed us of your arrival and we have prepared everything that you require. I will show you to your quarters, and then you may begin your studies as soon as you wish.”
“Well, first I’m gonna need something to eat,” Al said.
The man smiled and looked at both of them kindly. Erik noticed that the man’s eyes seemed to be covered by some sort of cloudy film. The color in the orbs was very dull, almost gray. Erik realized that the man was blind. “Let us go inside,” the man said. “Please, dismount from your horses and leave them here. They will be taken to the stables out back and your belongings shall be brought to you.” The man then turned and walked back through the doorway.
“Horses are forbidden on the temple grounds,” Al said over his shoulder to Erik. Al hopped down from his horse and started to walk. Erik did the same.
As he walked through the doorway he looked up to the enormous tower. The base was made of gray granite, reaching up a third of the way until it gave way to darker stones. Windows were evenly spaced along the tower in a vertical column. Erik assumed that each window marked a new story in the tower as they were approximately ten feet apart. He noticed that the top third of the tower was wider than the base of the tower, with wooden porches protruding out and encircling the structure. He wondered how such a tower could stand. It seemed to him that a strong wind would take the top-heavy thing down to the dirt below, but Master Lepkin had told him previously that this temple was thousands of years old.
A sudden slap to his gut brought Erik out of his wonder and back to the present.
“Stop gawking boy, this ain’t a sight-seeing trip,” Al chided. “Get goin.”
Erik quickly fell back in behind the blind man and tried to maintain pace, though his eyes didn’t stop feasting on everything around him. He noticed a pair of men standing on either side of the red, arched door at the base of the tower. Their heads were shaven, except for a single braid of hair that hung from the back of their heads and draped over the front of their shoulders. They wore red, loose fitting suits of silk, with gold buttons up the front. Their shoes were tan leather. In their hands they held great staff weapons with blades the likes of which Erik had never seen before fixed at the top of the shaft and wicked looking flanged steel points on the bottom. Erik looked from the weapon to one of the guards eyes and noticed that he too had the same silvery film covering his eyes. Erik was puzzled by this, but he decided he would ask Al about it later. He didn’t want to get slapped again for not keeping up.
The man in the white robes opened the red door and walked inside. Erik followed him in and stopped dead in his tracks, letting Al slam right into him. Al pushed Erik aside and groused about tall folk being easily impressed and walked on, following the man in the white robes. Erik paid no mind. He craned his head up and marveled at the painted scenes above. Great dragons of all colors soared through the painted clouds and sky. Fireballs and streams of yellow split the scene as the magnificent beasts battled each other. Erik let his eyes fall down to the wall and noticed that the scene continued. The walls had scenes of men fighting each other through a great valley by a blue river. There were wizards throwing lightning bolts, knights on horseback, spearmen slaying great beasts, and archers letting loose their arrows. Erik spun around slowly, taking each inch of the mural in. It was all depicted so realistically. The men painted were life-size, with the men in the background shrinking to give the illusion of distance. Erik felt as though he were in the middle of the great valley himself, watching a moment of history unfold before his very eyes. He looked back up to the ceiling and noticed that the dragons, too, were painted so that their size fit in with the battle scene around him. The beasts high in the sky were smaller, and those that cast their fiery breath at humans from above were much, much bigger.
Erik turned to say something to Al, but then realized that the dwarf was gone, and so was the man in the white robes. All at once he felt uneasy, as though he were inside a nobleman’s house without permission and rifling through personal items. He quickly shuffled his feet along the green carpet, which he realized was colored to fit in with the mural as well. As he quickly left the room he wondered who had painted it if all of the people here were blind.
The next chamber was just as large as the entrance area. It also had a completely enclosed mural painted on every wall and on the ceiling, but it was not a scene of battle. This room showed the inside of a grand hall with columns of gold holding up high, vaulted ceilings. The left wall had a throne painted with a dwarf sitting on it. There was a great gathering of dwarves all around the throne. Sections of them wore distinct colors on their tunics and held different banners aloft. The markings of different clans, Erik assumed. Erik looked closely at the dwarf sitting on the throne and thought the dwarf looked a lot like Al, at least in the respect that the dwarf also had a ridiculously long beard of red and seemed to be scowling all the time. Erik looked at the dwarf for a while before turning to the opposite wall. There he saw another throne, with a man sitting on it. There were hordes of warriors around the man, all kneeling, but not looking at the man on the throne. Erik followed the gaze of the men in the painting to the wall behind him. His jaw hit the floor when he saw a giant leg painted on either side of the doorway through which he had entered the room.
He backed up and gaped at the large, golden dragon. Its wings covered the breadth of the entire wall, and they weren’t even extended. The head of the short necked dragon reached onto the ceiling, as though he were towering over Erik and looking right into his eyes. Its arms were extended, the one pointing at the human on the throne, and the other pointing to the dwarf. The dragon’s mouth was open and beams of gold were extending from it.
“It is beautiful, isn’t it,” a man called out from behind. Erik almost tripped over himself as he tried to turn around.
“I’m sorry, I wasn’t trying to be nosy,” Erik replied quickly. He saw the man in white had returned, probably to look for him.
“It’s alright, young lad. I too have spent many hours in this very room, marveling at the wonder of this moment in time.”
“But, I thought…” Erik tried to think of how to ask the question without being offensive.
“That I was blind?” the man asked with a crooked, knowing smile. Erik nodded his head. “Come, I will show you to the library. Al is there, eager to begin your studies. Perhaps we can talk some more another time.”
“Can you answer one question first?” Erik asked.
“I suppose I can grant you that,” the man replied.
“There are a lot of dragons painted on the other room. Here there is only one. He must have been important. Who was he?” Erik pointed up to the painting.
“His name is Hiasyntar’Kulai. He is the progenitor of the Ancients,” the man replied.
*****
“Read page
four hundred and ninety-seven, third paragraph down,” Al instructed.
Erik wearily flipped through the pages. He had been reading for hours already and his vision was beginning to blur. When he found the page, he traced the words with his finger until he found the third paragraph. He began reading to himself.
“Read it aloud,” Al said.
Erik sighed. “Page four hundred and ninety-seven, third paragraph: In the days of Nagar the Black and Tu’luh the Red a great and powerful magic was discovered. The words of this magic are written in a magical book entitled Nagar’s Secret, and can not be repeated in any other book. Know only that the magic contained in Nagar’s Secret has the power to transform all life into dark and sinister servants of the underworld. Tu’luh and Nagar the Black used this power in an attempt to control the Middle Kingdom. Many lives were lost, and many dragons turned from the ways of the Ancients and became vile demons and beasts, devouring the land and every living thing.”
“Skip to the first paragraph of the following page,” Al Interrupted.
“The great Battle of Hamath Valley was the final chapter in Tu’luh and Nagar’s reign of darkness. The Ancients, with the help of the armies and wizards of men, were able to turn back the tides of darkness using the magic of Allun’rha. Nagar and Tu’luh were slain at Hamath, and during the winter following that battle, the Ancients hunted the rest of the dark army that had swept across the land like a plague.” Erik looked up to Al, who was pacing back and forth in front of him with his hands clasped behind his back and his head aimed at the red rug on the floor.
“Go on, I didn’t tell you to stop,” Al insisted.
Erik looked back to the book and continued. “After the dark army was destroyed, the Ancients took Nagar’s Secret back to a secret temple in the mountains. They tried to destroy it, but the magic that had created it prevented its destruction. Worse than this, over time the Ancients realized that the magic within Nagar’s Secret called out to them, and wormed into their minds with its dark powers. Several more of the Ancients were twisted by the book and had to be slain in order to keep the magic from being loosed again.
