by Jake Yaniak
His heart racing and leaping, Daryas quickened his pace and, crossing the stream on a slender bridge of white stone, he hastened toward the northeast. For what seemed like an eternity, though it was scarcely a second, all shadow of doubt and fear fled from his heart and mind. Strong he felt, and capable of any great deed. This is what he had come for, to find and help this precious creature, whose eyes were so filled with sadness.
This was the solution to all of his torments, the answer to all of his confusion.
The hand of Fate, however, like any mortal's hand, has two sides. For every thing that is revealed to man, many others are concealed. Before he had come within fifty paces of the tower's entrance, he discovered that he walked not alone upon those bright white stone tiles. All about him there was the traffic of soft-slippered feet going to and fro in the courtyard.
Everywhere he looked it seemed, there stood a woman of exquisite beauty and grace, adorned in the richest clothes, and perfumed with scents which only the priests of Agonistes can make. Each of these had such a look of nobility in their painted faces that he could not help but feel almost an admiration for them. They seemed to circle about him, drawing closer as he walked. He knew it not, but to their eyes he appeared to be some wealthy foreign lord, come to 'worship' in the Sacred Valley of the Virgins, as many rich men were wont to do in those days. They had seen many visitors from Titalo and from Rinin, and even from Ilmaria in the deep south; so it did not seem at all strange to their eyes for such an outsider to appear unannounced. For the Noras, the wearing of fur was not in the least bit unusual, as hunting was their livelihood. But for these girls of Amlaman, so much fur was an extravagance.
In their eyes he saw longing and desire, but it was really desire for lucre. Upon their wrists they wore many bangles, so that if they made the slightest move a soft melody seemed to float upon the air, drawing all eyes to them. Goddesses they seemed to him, and indeed, in a sense, goddesses they were. For they, by beauty and false love, place a yoke upon a man's neck and drive him like a beast to seek after their desires and their benefit. Many a wealthy man had in that place squandered his whole living. Then, when his gold ceases to flow into their hands, their love ceases and he is driven from them by the guards to face the consequences of his prodigality on his own.
In that instant all Daryas' clarity and resolve was replaced with chaos and torment, such as not even his dreams had provided. His heart thundered in his chest as he looked about the Nunnery. Had he known what manner of place this was, or what sorrows would come from these enchantresses, he would have forgone his expedition altogether, or at the very least charged through the courtyard with his eyes closed and his fingers in his ears. But he was caught quite unawares and for a brief time he knew not why he had come or what it was that he sought within this strange place. Many tempting things presented themselves to him in that instant to replace his resolve with fleeting vanity.
Lightheaded, he knelt down beside the cool water and washed his eyes with the water from the Meretris. As he looked upon the water he saw standing behind him the reflection of these lovely creatures and he saw their painted eyes and their whitewashed cheeks. Then he turned his gaze upon his own reflection and saw again what had always appeared to him to be the ugly square face of a Galvahirne. A rough man, cut from stone and wood, not of flesh like these soft creatures that stood around him. 'What could they possibly desire in such as I,' he laughed to himself. Then he looked at his coat of fur and his cloak of deep blue. 'I must seem like some barbarian lord to them,' he rightly guessed. 'And a wealthy one too.'
He rose from the stream and started again toward the tower, his heart filled with resentment as well as relief. The charms and mysteries of these women had begun their work, and he walked away not a little affected. As he walked further from them the intoxication of their perfume wore off and his head began to clear. He started to walk more swiftly, hoping the flow of blood would wash away this distraction entirely. For he had still his destiny to reckon with, and whatever was the effect that these women had upon him, he knew his heart lay captive within that northeastern tower. The song of the Siren was more enchanting than a million such women, and though his heart was greatly troubled, his desire to solve the mystery of his dreams was unaltered.
This whole chain of events took little more than a minute, but its effects upon his destiny were greater than he could possibly have imagined. However, at the time he perceived no change in his circumstances. There was, however, some seed of darkness growing in his mind which he could not account for. He looked back and shuddered; his shadow seemed to lengthen and darken as he approached the tower. A great torch burning at the base of the tower, mounted upon the stone wall next to the entry seemed to explain this phenomena adequately, and he passed through into the the tower, laughing at himself. 'Afraid of shadows now, Daryas,' he laughed within himself. 'Sion would make no end of mocking you.' His heart sunk as he ascended the stairs, thinking about his comrade and wondering what fate he had met.
In this tower the princess of Amlaman resided, and Lord Vulcan had ordered it to be well guarded and well stocked with arms. Upon a table in the center of the lowest floor was a roast lamb with a knife and fork still embedded as though one had rushed away from the table in such haste that they had no time to set them down. As Daryas stood there a little steam yet rose from the meat. Surrounding the lamb were many plates, each with a fork and a knife laying on top. At least a dozen men were expected at that supper, though where they had all gone was more than Daryas could guess. Still affected by the voice of the Siren singing above, he thought nothing more of it.
He ascended the stairs quickly, the anticipation of his fate drawing him forward. He came at last to the top of the stairs and before him stood a wooden door, slightly ajar. He pushed his hand against it and peered inside.
The song that flowed from the room seemed to carry with it a powerful magic, turning every sound of nature into an accompaniment; the gurgle of the stream below, the cool wind against the stone tower, the howl of distant wolfs, all seemed to conspire with her voice to enthrall the mind and heart. He opened the door, stepped inside, and met his destiny.
Siren
There sat Leonara thasa Amlaman, near the eastern window, gazing into her mirror with unblinking eyes, singing to herself. A tear seemed trapped on her cheek, as though it had frozen as it fell. Time itself seemed to make way for her melody and it became impossible for Daryas to tell how long he had been standing there.
At last her song came to a stop and the tear fell from her face onto the mirror, which was laying on the table before her. The tear seemed to break whatever enchantment she was under and she looked up and saw Daryas standing there before her. An eternity seemed to elapse before anything moved or changed. Daryas found himself drawing ever closer to the Siren of Sten-Agoni, though he did not remember taking any steps. She rose from her feet and looked at him closely. 'Who are you?' she asked in a soft, but troubled voice.
Her beauty struck him so deeply that he was afraid that he might faint that very instant. Upon her shoulders hung a bright white gown the sort which only the Virgins of the temple are permitted to wear. Her long hair shone in the starlight, falling upon her shoulders like a golden waterfall and sparkling like a dragon's horde. Upon her head there sat a small crown of silver. In her ears were tiny diamonds and about her neck was a chain of the purest silver. Upon the chain there hung an heirloom, a tiny golden figure of an Aggelos with ruby eyes.
'I have come to aid you,' Daryas said, 'for I have been led here by many dreams and signs. My name is Daryas Galvahirne, son of Biron, Cheftan of Galva-la.'
She held her hand out to him with her palm facing downward. He took her fingers in his hand. She said, 'I am Princess Leonara thasa Amlaman thasa Ramlos, daughter of the late King of Weldera. Here I have dwelt in exile while kings, queens, and daring men clambor for power. Tell me Daryas Galvahirne,' she asked with a hint of desperation in her voice, 'How can you help one such as I? My
father is perished, and my mother will perish soon also, if she has not already been slain by my betrothed.'
'Your betrothed?' Daryas asked in a startled voice. 'Tell me what troubles you, fair princess. And I will set all my will against it.'
With tears she told him all that had transpired in the house of Vulcan, even from the days of Voltan her uncle, whom her father Vulcan had slain. She also told him how her cousin, Volthamir, under the guidance of the Fell Knight Lord Havoc, had usurped the throne and taken for himself the Dual Crown of Joplis. She lamented the restoration of the temple and all the years she was made a spectacle for the masses of Amlaman. She told him about the Cup of Trial and the humiliation of Voltan's heir. She told him of the coming of Legion's head, and how she was promised to the Fell Wolf of Heyan in marriage. 'I loved him,' she wept, 'I cried out for him every night. But when he finally came he was a devil, with a strange light in his eyes and hard words of gods and war.'
'War?' Daryas asked, suddenly thinking of his companions in Ram-u-Nar.
'Sixteen years ago my father, King Vulcan thos Amlaman, restored the Temple of Agonistes to the service of the dark god. In the day of its dedication the people of one accord swore to do the will of Agonistes. I was but three years of age, and yet I still remember the fire, the drums and the terrible voice of the god. I have been told that they swore to bring vengeance upon the head of Pelas, god of Falsis. The King will make good on this oath; he will lead the people of Amlaman to war.'
Daryas was silent for a moment, contemplating what she had told him. He knew he must return to the Remnant at once, for it was clear that Cheft Ponteris' usurpation of the lordship of Noras was but a part of some greater scheme. Leonara, after she had finished speaking, wept for a long time, throwing herself into the arms of the young Galvahirne. He looked at the princess' tearful face and was filled with love and pity. 'I will ease your burden, my lady,' Daryas said as he held her in his arms. 'Whatever must be done, I will see to it, for I cannot bear to see sadness within such lovely eyes.' Indeed, her eyes looked to him like the bottom of a clear pool of water where the light of the sun dances in lines upon the floor.
'Will you swear it?' she said somberly, 'All I have yet seen in this life is lies and deception. Will you be true to me? Will you take me away from here?'
'I swear it by the stars above, that nothing shall keep me from bringing comfort to you in your sorrow. But first we must see to your safety. We must make haste from this place.'
But the Princess did not respond, nor move for a long time. She just clung to his shoulders, almost as if she were sleeping. Looking upon the table, Daryas noticed that the tiny tear that had dropped from the princess' eye had at last all but dried, leaving the surface of the mirror unmarred. Leonara's head swung up suddenly and her eyes met her would-be rescuer's. 'You are a devil also!' she accused suddenly, almost in an entirely different voice. Her face turned into a snarl and she thrust Daryas' arms away from her. 'Do not touch me, you brutish heathen!'
Daryas was too stunned to say anything. A shadow came over her eyes and she rushed to her table and took the mirror in her hand. She looked long at it and finally looked up at Daryas. 'Shadow,' she said coldly. 'You are naught but shadow and darkness.'
'What do you mean?' Daryas said as his chest heaved with sorrow, perceiving that it was not to destiny, but rather some sour doom that his dreams had led him at last.
'I can smell it on you, that foul perfume; the aroma of the whores of Agonistes. You saw them when you passed through the courtyard; and I saw you too, bewildered and amazed, pining like an animal for the harem of the dark god! Serve him then, and perhaps he will reward you with one of his pretty little dainties! If he consumes them not with flame before hand.'
Daryas opened his mouth to speak, but he could think of nothing to say. 'It is only for that one who has for all these years haunted my dreams that I have come.'
'And all your efforts have been a waste, for you are no better than the one who I have already turned away. With that she charged at him and beat against him with her arms. He tried to restrain her, but she was too furious and impassioned to be calmed. She dug the nails of her right hand deep into the flesh of his neck, until red blood dripped from his throat and poured onto the floor. She screamed, and all the Valley echoed with the sound of her wrath. 'Shadow and lies!' she hollered at him in a fit of madness. Her voice seemed to thunder like that of a goddess.
Mityai Follows
When Daryas came to Ram-u-Nar, he came not alone. Besides the Galva Army and the servants and followers of his brother Dynamis, he was accompanied by the spirit Mityai, who had long been charged with watching his movements.
By her influence his dreams were made more easy to bear and his sleep became less troubled. Her ancient songs drove from his mind the darkest of those devils that would otherwise have been permitted to torment him. In this way his sanity and health were preserved, but the purposes of Lord Pelas were not achieved; Daryas was not as yet fully prepared for the road that Pelas meant for him to walk. Mityai, however, could not bear to see him in such anguish and confusion, and she had therefore decided to disregard the demands of her master.
Oblis, the mighty servant of Lord Pelas had indeed come for her, as he was commanded. But she hid from him with such skill that his slow eyes could not find her. After long searching he abandoned his quest, deeming it better to return to Pelas with his report than to return not at all, and yet still in failure. He was the sort of spirit that is mighty in arms, but greatly lacking in wisdom and cunning.
During the time of the exile of the Galva Army, Mityai spent most of her time on the marches of their territory, watching and waiting lest any strangers should came upon them. The mighty spirit Cheru, servant of Pelas, had also come to Ram-u-Nar, charged with the safe keeping of Daryas. But he searched not for the little sprite, nor would his mighty eyes take much thought of her even had he seen her. Cheru ever stood at the side of Daryas, unseen and unmovable.
It was Mityai that directed the eyes of the guards atop the ridge to the ailing queen of Amlaman. Had she known what would come of it she would have turned their faces to the north and let the frail queen perish alone in the woods. But pity entered into her heart when she saw the wandering madwoman. She could not tell whether she was a friend or foe, or whether she was good or evil. But it seemed to her judgment that this fragile creature could do little harm, whatever her intentions might be.
She followed close behind Daryas as he and his brother left the security of Ram-u-Nar behind them. She kept a close watch on Daryas as he spoke with the dying queen. But as the sorry scene unfolded a passing shadow seemed to lurk about in the woods. She stepped away from her ward and snuck out into the woods to have a look.
In the darkness under the naked autumn trees she at first could see nothing. But as she stared into the blackness she saw at last what seemed to be two tiny fireflies, floating about this way and that. But as her keen eyes looked on she realized they were the shining eyes of some great beast.
Suddenly, the whole figure of a great black wolf appeared before her. He was one of the black wolves of Heyan, but stood nearly twice the height of a common wolf. His eyes glowed red like fire. For a long time neither of them moved or spoke.
He started toward the fire, with dripping jaws and a low growl. 'Who are you!?' Mityai demanded in a panic. The wolf stopped and sat up, snarling in her direction. 'You are no mere wolf,' she said rightly.
'I am that which plays not the game of the gods,' the wolf said in a cold voice. 'Long have I hunted this one, that I might take revenge on the liar Pelas, who promised us the blood and fat of men. What we found in the hills was charred bones and smoke. I am Ghastin, Lord of Wolves. Depart from me, sprite,' he commanded with a snap of his jaws.
'I am charged by the same Pelas with the safety of this mortal,' Mityai pleaded. 'I cannot permit you to harm him.'
The wolf seemed almost to laugh. 'Pelas? You are the guardian of this boy?' The wolf snicker
ed. 'What could you protect, whisp-spirit? Set all your will against me, child, and you will not but pluck a hair from my shoulders. Depart, I say, lest I send you to hell with the devils!'
With that the wolf started toward the fire once more, ready to trample the smaller spirit to the dust if he must. She held her hands in front of her and said, 'He is not alone! Lord Cheru the Mighty stands ever at his side!'
Ghastin stopped with one paw still in the air. A sigh seemed to pass from his mouth and he sat upright, turning his head toward the terrified spirit. 'Murderous Cheru,' he murmured. 'I have not the patience for such things today.'
He continued on toward the fire, this time with no sign of fear. He was abruptly confronted by the great god Cheru, who held in one hand a mighty sword and in the other a shield the likes of which only a god could wield.
'Truly you are a god unrivaled, Master Cheru, slayer of that devilish fiend Amro,' Ghastin said with much sarcasm.
'If I have no rival,' Cheru answered with thunder in his voice, 'then to what end do you mock me, Ghastin, lord of scavengers?'
'Who mocks who, slayer of fell Amro?'
'Think what you will, but that deed was done ere the waters came, I cannot answer for it now. Nor have I any need to answer to you.'
