Altan also seemed to think so. “It appears the Aesid are still surviving,” he said. “That still gives us hope,” he added very softly, which made Rylek wonder what he meant. “It is imperative more than ever that you remain silent and hold on to my coat. The potential for harm rises with every step we take.”
Rylek’s heart raced within his chest. He noticed Lana was clutching Altan’s coat with both hands. This prompted Altan to put his arm around her shoulder and draw her in to him so that she rested her head against his side. Rylek found these gestures surprising but endearing.
A few more minutes of walking led them to the outskirts of the ruins. The buildings were half-heartedly piecemealed together from stone rubble, and flameless torches lined the “streets” between them. Only a few heavily garbed Aesid walked around but took no notice of the Aenosh group. Altan did well by steering them away from anyone who looked to potentially walk towards them. The dodging was light but still made Rylek feel extremely nervous.
“In its prime, Teravihn’dael was a marvel to witness,” Altan said. “The city was lush with fragrant gardens, crystal clear pools, cascading waterfalls, and towering spires. The Aesid became master workers with obsidian, of which the volcano supplied near infinite amounts, and they used it to great effect throughout the city. They lined everything with the black glass: buildings, streets, statues, anything they could find. Of course you can see it has all been stripped away since that fateful day of doom. What use they could have for it now I cannot imagine. During my times here I have never seen a hint of it. But before that day, when the sun shone on the city, a dazzling dark sparkle would set off a brilliant contrast to the deep green gardens that covered any area not occupied by a building. And their gardens were filled with their favorite flower - a little bloom called a daeleie. It has six white petals, and each petal has a violet stem at its base. ‘Little star,’ they named it, and thence Teravihn’dael received its name: ‘Garden of the Star.’”
By now they had ventured into an area apparently abandoned by the Aesid. Rylek had not seen one for a couple of minutes anyway. It was incredibly dark here, as the dull red light of Khrag’leMae was dimming. He could only make out hints of large shadowy forms. Thankfully, Altan somehow knew exactly where he was going, and the way he was leading them was steadily going uphill.
“Fornrihgula, in his vainglory, took the Blessed Artes and twisted them,” Altan continued, “conjuring up methods to manipulate creation in ways that The One had never intended. Life itself surrendered its secret mechanisms to his Forbidden Artes, which resulted in his discovering ways of bending the laws of nature themselves to his own end. He taught these to the Aesid, who used the knowledge to devise incredibly advanced technology. They built massive machinations that drew out the life energies of certain lifeforms to fuel their city. First it was plant life, then animals, but these only ever supplied a limited amount of fuel. Fornrihgula longed to have a source of eternal power similar to the sun, and after many long and cruel experiments he discovered it: the soul.”
A chill ran down Rylek’s spine that was not caused by the weather. The turn of conversation was unsettling, but he also felt a growing ominous presence. As they had been walking up the hill, the light from the volcano had slowly been increasing again, until it was bright enough for him to see details once more. There were a few unadorned large rocks around them that at one time must have been parts of buildings. But it was what was on the horizon that caught his attention, and seemed to be the source of his unease. At the crest of the hill they were climbing was a colossal dark crimson dome. Nine tall and thin spires lined its perimeter and pierced the lightless sky, catching the light of the volcano and splitting it into myriads of prisms. Rylek realized it was so bright because the light of the volcano’s fires must have been more direct here.
“The structure we approach is the realization of Fornrihgula’s schemes,” Altan continued. “It is here that the crowning pinnacle of Aesidian technology lies, and the chief cause of Teravihn’dael’s curse. It is what enabled Fornrihgula to rip the city from the earth and suspend it in the heavens, far above the clouds in endless sunlight. It is Marsahlahvihn’kyura: The Devourer of The Eternal.”
They had reached the summit. Rylek’s skin was now crawling as he looked upon the building. His gut told him there was something, or somethings, inside that he had no desire to encounter at the moment. Two large doors stood closed in front of them.
“Countless Aenosh were slaughtered in the process that ripped their souls from their bodies,” Altan said, and there was no denying the anger in his voice. “The soul is eternal, and is in its own way energy in its purest form. Normally at death, the soul will slumber, awaiting the end of all things to then be awakened by The One. But the souls of the Aenosh that were ravished from their bodies were kept awake, as the machines fed off them and provided more than enough power for all of Teravihn’dael. Even now, because of the technique the Aesid used, the souls of the unfortunate Aenosh are painfully aware of time’s slow passing and have been trapped inside this structure for several thousands of years now. The structure has been sealed by the Aedaar, so no mortal thing can enter to disturb the waking dead. However, it is said that one shall come who will lead them out to their rest before the end of all things comes to pass.”
Rylek imagined he could hear the crying voices of the long-dead Aenosh souls on the bitter wind as they stood there looking upon the domed building. He wondered how many there were trapped inside, desperate for reprieve, justice, and vengeance.
“Yes, that day shall come soon,” Altan said softly, as though he were reassuring the souls inside. “Endure for just a short while longer.”
They stood in silence for a few minutes, huddled together in respectful memoriam, frozen in guarded vigil, and desperate to feel the golden warmth of the sun on their skin again. But all Rylek could feel was the numbing cold on his face, and a paralyzing helplessness in his heart.
***
“Come, my friends,” Altan said eventually. “Let us move along. There is still much to see and warmer places to go.”
He led them back the way they came, down the hillside towards the volcano. It grew darker as they went, and Rylek felt it was fitting in light of the knowledge he had just obtained. He could not ignore the sinister mood that had suddenly settled upon the ruins of Khragzul. Though his curiosity craved to learn more, the paranoia continued to grow and he longed to be gone from the place.
“In case you were wondering,” Altan said, “Khrag’leMae roughly translates ‘strength from the deep.’ When the Aedaar passed sentence on Teravihn’dael, they mockingly referred to it as Khragzul, or basically ‘empty power.’ And though I usually use that name, I do not buy into the notion that the Aesid are powerless. This is why I do my best to silently observe them occasionally. It is difficult to keep a predator caged, for it will bide its time by gnawing on its bitterness and becoming far more dangerous than it had previously been. Thankfully, I have never seen reason to grow concerned that the Aesid are…outgrowing their cage, so to speak.”
They were now at the base of the volcano again, and he led them between more ruined buildings. Rylek wondered where the Aesid must have actually dwelt since it appeared that all of the buildings he had seen at this point were empty and lifeless.
After a few turns between several dark and cold buildings, they came upon a huge gaping mouth of a cave that seemingly led into the heart of Khrag’leMae. Altan stopped off to the side. This area was suddenly heavily trafficked, and dozens of Aesid were walking in and out of the entrance. No snow was on the ground here, for immense torches lined the way into the cave, warming the entry. A resonating din of sounds was coming from further in the cave: singing voices, pounding drums, and occasional shouts. Above the entrance a large image made of multiple long thin triangles was carved into the volcano wall. It reminded Rylek of a winged creature.
Where have I seen that before? he wondered.
“Here is where
we enter,” Altan said. “I will not speak again until we reach a place where we can observe without fear of accidently being discovered. Again I remind you: under no circumstances whatsoever are you to let go of my coat. And remain completely silent! This will be the most dangerous part of our lesson. We will at times go slowly, and other times quickly, but always carefully. Stay alert and loose! Are we ready?”
All four nodded.
“Then may The One guide and protect us.”
***
It became a game of rushing and waiting, anticipating every movement. Rylek realized that even though Altan spoke no words, he knew exactly where and when his next move would take place. It took them about five minutes, though it seemed much longer to him, but they finally found a dark corner far from anyone else. Rylek took the opportunity to observe the room now that he was not consumed with avoiding the Aesid.
The room was large and circular with a very tall ceiling. Great stone pillars supported its weight, and cast long black shadows back towards the entrance - for in the front of the room was a large pool of lava. Rylek realized this was probably the reason he was so warm, as he had previously attributed it to the adrenalin rush from which he was still buzzing. Everything smelled hot, sweaty, perfumed and primal. He himself was soon sweating in his large thick fur coat.
Several dozens of Aesid filled the room, males clothed in small black tunics, and females dressed in small white tunics. They had flung their outerwear off into a pile in the middle of the room. All were doing a variety of things. Some men were beating large drums on one side of the chamber, while some women danced and spun around in circles franticly. Various individuals were singing or chanting together either in a different language or in non-syllabic phrases. The pounding rhythm drove itself into Rylek’s chest, until it felt like his heart was beating in unison with the drums. His blood boiled fiercely with the wild melodies that were being sung, and it was all he could do to keep his feet planted. Occasionally he would see a woman take a man by the hand and lead him down a hallway on the other end of the room. The remainder stood or knelt facing the front of the room, arms raised or bodies bent over in worship.
For behind the pool of lava was a colossus, a form of such magnitude that Rylek knew for certain it was the object of worship for the reverential individuals. In the light of the lava it was a deep dark gray, and somewhat resembling an Aesid. Its torso was long and tapered off into what Rylek thought was a tail. It had no legs. Two muscular arms lay straight down its sides, while two massive wings hung limply. Its yellow eyes were open, but there were no other facial features.
“Behold the temple of the cult of Fornrihgula, cursed of the Aedaar,” Altan said, “and the sealed being himself, Fornrihgula!”
Rylek felt a wave of shock run through him as what he had assumed was merely a massive statue was apparently an Aedaar. It was then that he noticed an odd waving shimmer in front of Fornrihgula, as though it were underwater.
“Fear him not!” Altan said. “He is sealed away for eternity and can neither hear nor see anything that takes place in this room. Herein lies the other reason the Aedaar blocked all heavenly light from reaching the surface: for the Aedaar must have near constant contact with sunlight, or the weakened form of sunlight known as moonlight. In the same way that mortal life requires food, water, and oxygen, the immortal must have water, sunlight, and oxygen, respectively. As long as the sun is never permitted to shine in this wasteland, there is little to no hope that Fornrihgula shall ever be able to emerge from his seal. For several thousands of years he has been here, wasting away the millennia, until The One passes utmost judgment on him. That will occur at the end of days.”
It seemed to Rylek that his voice carried a note of sorrow.
“You can see that instead of repenting of their ways,” he continued, “the Aesid have utterly forsaken Good and have chosen instead to adore a previously powerful but now powerless being. Their utter contempt for the Aenosh would drive them to murder you if they knew we were here among them. They have allowed bitterness to take root to such a degree that they abhor all life that is neither of themselves nr Fornrihgula himself. Long have they sought and pursued the Forbidden Artes to find ways to break the seal, to revive him to his previous glory. But, to this point in time at least, their efforts have been futile. If they are ever able to find a way to break the seal, the Aedaar will reap the fruit of their foolish seed.”
He then sighed sadly, and Rylek wondered what it was he was obviously not saying.
“This place nauseates and depresses me,” Altan continued after a long pause. His voice was now unquestionably filled with sorrow. “The fools…the fools…” he muttered as his head sank deep into his chest. After a bit he raised his head again and spoke with a firm voice. “Come, let us be away from here. I am sure you have many questions.”
As they walked away, Rylek found it difficult to take his eyes off the imposing figure of Fornrihgula. It was similar in some ways to the figure of the creature he and Tresten had seen in the sealed room in Perdeisolen. Then suddenly something caught his eye. It appeared to him that there were tubes and wires running from the back of Fornrihgula to some unseen end. But there was no way of asking Altan about it at the moment, so he made a mental note to ask him once they were safely in Calabranda.
Once more they spent a great deal of time evading the Aesid, who seemed utterly oblivious to their existence. The combination of the scents, music, warmth, stop-and-go action, and exhaustion caused Rylek’s head to start feeling light and dizzy, and the whole process began to feel like a surreal dream. He could not wait to get back outside and be slapped back into reality by the cold air.
However, despite how he was feeling, everything was actually going smoothly, and they were almost out of the cave. But just as soon as Altan led them on a fast break to get to another safe area, Tresten suddenly screamed out in agony. Rylek looked back at him since he had fallen behind so quickly, and saw he was collapsed on the ground, clutching his head with both hands. Altan immediately wrapped his arms around the other three and hurried back to him, but it was too late - he had been spotted. The female Aesid were screaming and shrinking away in terror from Tresten while a few of the males, after recovering from shock, surrounded him quickly and picked him up, binding his arms behind his back. Tresten would not stop shrieking. Rylek helplessly watched as another male walked up to the captured Tresten with a spear and swung the butt end around so that it smacked him hard in the face. He instantly fell unconscious and went limp in the arms of the Aesid. They took Silran and its scabbard from him.
Rylek tore himself from Altan’s grip, stripped off the coat and drew Faldrahil. He was in such a frenzied state of mind that he had no plan other than to slay as many as he needed in order to free his friend. Before he knew what he had done, one of the Aesid that held Tresten lay dead before him.
But as he was raising his sword for more, Selenor’s voice came ringing into his head.
“RYLEK!”
He paused long enough to look back and saw her standing with Lana and Altan, terror and shock on their faces. In that moment a couple of things happened. First of all, he realized the Aesid could see all five of them, and they were all soon to be either captured or killed. But before he could decide what to do with that knowledge, the Aesid that knocked out Tresten likewise struck the side of his head with the spear. All went dark as he hit the ground.
Chapter Thirteen:
Visions and Vocamancy
The wind was strong and fresh from where Rylek stood. A small platform jutted out from an opening on the heights of Khrag’leMae, and from there he could look down upon all of Teravihn’dael. Dozens of slender black minarets and towers pierced the azure sky, and occasionally a light wispy cloud would sweep through the city like a phantom fog. Lush trees and gardens filled the spaces between the towers, and far off in the distance were other smaller floating rock masses, just large enough to sustain grass and trees. The air was also busy with Aesid flyin
g to and fro on their own personal businesses.
As he looked upon the scene, he found himself moved to tears. At first he assumed it was caused by the overwhelming beauty of what he beheld, but gradually he realized it was mingled with an unspecified sorrow. In many ways his heart believed these were the final days of the great wonder of Mira, the majestic floating continent of the Aesid. But then reason wrested control of his thoughts, and pride helped him to remember Teravihn’dael was invincible, untouchable to the filth on Mira’s surface.
Aware of a second presence, he looked to his left and saw Selenor; or, upon further examination, someone who at least greatly resembled her. Her long lost twin sister, he thought to himself. She had wings like the Aesid, and was dressed in a thin white strapless and sleeveless cloth that fell just short of her knees. Though her wings were not moving, he noticed she hung suspended in the air, the toes of her bare feet inches from the rocky ground. She too was looking out over the city, and her hair blew behind and to her left. Her chin was raised ever so slightly, elongating her neck. Rylek could not take his eyes from her, she was so beautiful. Either she did not mind his staring, or she was not aware he was there.
Several minutes passed in silence. Then she slowly lifted her left arm and pointed towards the city. “This was the glory of my people,” she said slowly and richly.
The voice had an effect on Rylek that made him forget everything else but her. All he could see was her radiant form, all he smelled was her soft fragrance. His blood began to race through his veins, and he could feel his heart pounding away in his ears.
She then slowly turned her face towards him and held his eyes; hers were of a deep rich sapphire, sparkling wildly in the daylight. He swore he had never seen such beauty, such flawless and peerless grace. His hands began to shake from the nervous energy he was no longer able to contain.
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