Heirs of Eternity (Euphoria Duology Book 1)

by Franc Ingram

  He was fine with them roaming the tundra, picking off what few humans dared to branch out into his domain. People outside the wall knew they were living on borrowed time, but the city was dangerous. It was protected. Cornelius looked forward to the day he waged war on the people who ousted him from his city, but it needed to happen on his terms. He needed numbers on his side, and there was one last loose end to wrap up. The Heirs of Eternity had to be neutralized before Cornelius could feel comfortable waging a prolonged attack.

  “You assured me you could keep an eye on them,” he said, irritation raising the pitch of his voice with each word.

  “There was some excitement over at Lake Furmel,” Tannin replied. “The rangers were out. I was distracted. I apologize, Father.”

  Cornelius expelled all the air from his lungs with one sharp sigh. “No, it’s my fault. I’m their father. It is up to me to instill some sense of discipline in them. Since they have too much free time on their hands, it's time I give them some real work to do.” Cornelius thumped a long thin finger against the solid mountain. “The expansion will be done in no time. As for you, we can’t let this loss of life go unpunished. The humans might get the idea that my children are fair game. You get into that city and be careful. You be stealthy, but you make it clear my wrath is not to be taken lightly.”

  “Yes father,” Tannin agreed obediently.

  Tannin left as quickly as he’d come. With him gone Cornelius knew the job would be taken care of as ordered. Tannin may have lacked passion, anger, or any of the other emotions that often drove Cornelius, and to a greater extent the yetis, crazy, but he knew how to get things done. It was a quality Cornelius found vital as his plans accelerated toward their inevitable violent conclusion.

  Cornelius put the worries of the city behind him. He had yetis to discipline, and a fortress to finish constructing. Things were escalating between his people, and the people of Solon, faster than he was ready for. The last time he let things get out of control he was ousted from Solon, from the realm of Arismas, and forced to make the barren mountain range his home. Cornelius wouldn’t fall into the same trap again.

  He had to bide his time, to make sure he was strong enough to take the humans on without risking defeat. He had to drill that lesson into his animalistic children as swiftly as possible. He couldn’t completely blame them. The Twelve didn’t design Cornelius to create, they built him to rule. Tannin turned out the way he did because he was the product of two ultras, Cornelius and Emmaray. The yetis were different creatures all together.

  Over three hundred years ago, when he lost his war against the humans, Cornelius had nothing further to offer Emmaray, and she cut off that avenue of procreation. Cornelius used the knowledge of his creators to do what genetic manipulations the limited resources of their age would allow him. It took him dozens of tries to produce a viable product, dozens more to produce something he could use for fighting. Even generations later they still suffered from the flaws of their predecessors.

  Following the familiar twists and turns of his mountain dwelling, Cornelius listened for the sounds of his children. If he let a couple of them know, they would spread the word. Not to the factory buried deep within his mountain though, that needed to run smoothly, with absolutely no disruptions. Five of his sons were milling around in the room they labeled as the ice rink. The floor was slick with ice, and its temperature stayed at a balmy -20 degrees. The yetis used it as their relaxation room after a hard shift in the factory, to cool down.

  “Up,” Cornelius roared as he entered.

  The yetis jumped to their feet looking around confused, until their wide black eyes fell on him, and they tensed up. At least they had enough sense to tell when he was upset.

  “Did any of you breach the wall this morning?”

  They all shook their heads no.

  “Well find out who did and gather as many of your brothers that aren’t working, and meet me in the gathering hall. Be quick about it.”

  Cornelius didn’t have to wait more than ten minutes before the first group piled in. As an act of his benevolence he decided to downgrade their planned punishment. The yetis hugged the outer edges of the room as if they feared getting too close to their father. Cornelius smiled inwardly. There might be hope for them yet.

  He waited until the guilty ones were pushed in front of him by their brothers. He peered into the faces of four of his children. All of them had the marks of battle along their fur, and written in the creases of their faces.

  “What have you done?” Cornelius asked, though he expected no detailed answer. The yeti language was limited to howls and grunts that got the basics across. They understood each other, and Tannin understood them better than Cornelius did. Maybe he just didn’t have the patience to learn. All four of them lowered their heads. The one directly in front of him whined low and deep. For a moment, Cornelius felt pity for his sons, his creations. They clearly had been through a lot already. Did he really want to add to their pain? Then he remembered his future was at stake. The world could be his, but if the yetis kept rampaging unchecked, they would ruin it all.

  With his claws fully extended, Cornelius swiped the first yeti across his cheek, catching the edge of its lip. He backhanded the next one, then smacked two more until they were all laying on the ground bleeding.

  “None of you will go near that city unless I give you an express order." Cornelius bent down, grabbing the nearest yeti, and yanking its head back at an awkward angle. "In fact, you are to avoid all human contact as if they have the plague. To make sure you don’t have time to even think about Solon, I want double the output from the factory." Cornelius dropped the yeti and stood up making sure all eyes were glued to him. "You four will work twenty hour shifts, with four hours resting in the ice rink, until you drop dead, or until I give you another task.” Cornelius looked out over the rest of them happy to see fear etched into every hairy crease of their monstrous faces. He crossed his arms across his chest imitating the stone cold unforgiving nature of the mountain around him. The muscles in his back and neck worked overtime to keep his anger in check, keeping him planted in the center of the room instead of running around it cutting the yetis down. “As for the rest of you, we have three more tunnels to carve out, and two more storage rooms to build. They will be done by week’s end, or I will skin every last one of you. Do I make myself clear?”

  The yetis nodded in unison.

  “Go,” Cornelius yelled, his voice bouncing off the ice walls like a bomb.

  The yetis scattered.

  100101

  “That ungrateful, selfish little prick,” Oleana growled through gritted teeth. “Lorn, you told him to stay put,” Lorn nodded, but it barely registered with Oleana. “How complicated is that?” she questioned. Her boots slapped against the stone floor as she paced back and forth in front of Lorn. Her anger filled the small space that Daycia called an office. Oleana felt like she was being compressed under a ton of bricks. “Staying in one spot so your rescuers can talk to you. We dispose of the yetis, and he doesn’t bother to give us so much as a thank you. Nearly gets himself killed running off the first time, so at the next opportunity, what does he do? He runs again like some chicken-hearted coward.”

  “He really got under your skin,” Lorn mused between bites of the turkey sandwich he’d conned out of Daycia. “I think that’s the most you’ve spoken in one sitting since we entered the great wall.”

  “That little snot couldn’t bother me if he tried,” Oleana snapped, her anger belying her comment. She stared out the window of Daycia’s office hoping the Master of Animals would saunter by. “His behavior was simply not fitting for a king. He chose his own freedom over the safety of others, not once, but twice. Even I can’t train cowardice out of someone's heart. He ran away so fast I didn’t even get a name, where he lived, anything to go on.”

  “You may be judging the man harshly, Alwen - sorry Oleana,” Daycia said calmly as she entered her domain, correcting herself as she i
nadvertently used Oleana’s previous name. She handed Lorn a bowl of fruit, and offered Oleana another.

  “No thank you,” Oleana replied, waving it off. “And I’m not judging him, I’m just explaining what he did.”

  Daycia sat in the chair next to Lorn, the two of them perusing their food options together. “I remember your first day here as if it were yesterday. You tried to sneak onto a train headed back to the coast. I guess from there you were going to stowaway on a boat back to your native island. Despite talking to the Twelve, you were convinced we were crazy and you had made a mistake. That first month of training was spent overcoming your lack of belief that you were who we said you were.”

  “That’s a bit of an exaggeration,” Oleana grumbled, looking to Lorn. She didn’t want the boy to think less of her, but his attention was focused on the food. “That was different. A lot was thrown at me all at once. How did you expect me to react when I was just twelve years old?”

  Lorn snorted, almost choking on his lunch. “Ha!” he chortled, “That sounds like her. I mean, back on the farm, every time the cow decided not to produce what she thought was enough milk, she had a hissy fit and stormed off down to the closest bar talking about how no stupid cow was going to treat one of the Heirs of Eternity like that,” Lorn gleefully told Daycia.

  “Ungrateful little…,” Oleana’s face flushed red, as she muttered to herself. “...I could go for a drink. Impudent little wannabe king.”

  Lorn wasn’t finished in his good-natured taunting of Oleana. “You know she half snores, half talks in her sleep,” he continued, ignoring Oleana’s insult. “Snores a little, talks a little. It's the funniest thing.”

  Daycia laughed, joining Lorn in his musings. “Alwen did the same thing. Must be encoded in her DNA.”

  Oleana sighed, plopping down in the only chair left in the small office, “I’m trying to discuss serious things, and you two are goofing off like freshmen on their first day,” she chided the two of them, looking around taking in the office for the first time. It was smaller than the study room they’d vacated, yet it was decorated in bright tropical colors that gave the place an energetic feel. The two lounge chairs, small desk, and matching chair took up most of the room, leaving only a small path between them. There was a set of three shelves built into the walls that held books that looked as old as Daycia was.

  At least she had a window, albeit a small one looking out over the mountain, but it let in natural light nonetheless. “And why don’t you have a bigger office?” Oleana demanded, still out of sorts. “You are a founder of the new era for goodness sake! Statues of you are all over this city. Why do you work out of a shoebox?” Oleana huffed, challenging Daycia.

  “Because I choose to,” Daycia explained calmly. She could see through Oleana’s petty complaints. Over the years, I’ve been in most of the offices in this place. I don’t mind the small space, it keeps me from trying to put too much in it.” Her tone sharpened a bit, making Oleana meet her eyes. "You’re just upset you lost track of the Master of Animals. Don’t take it out on my office. You need to calm down. He's in the city, and we know what he looks like. We will find him in no time." Daycia put a calming hand on Oleana’s arm in an effort to reassure her, and settle her agitation. “For now, you should just eat. Relax. Cornelius won’t be bothering us anytime soon. Changing the subject, Daycia asked, “Now, can we talk about how young Lorn did out there today?”

  Oleana stared at the plate Daycia left on her desk. It didn’t appeal. Oleana wanted out of Solon, out of the shadow of the mountain. She wanted a tall drink with an even taller chaser, and her mouth watered at the thought. Most of all, she wanted her wayward king to show up safe. “You adapted well,” she told Lorn, trying to focus on something other than her problems. “You didn’t let the live combat situation throw you off. You protected the civilians and scared the yetis off without engaging in unnecessary combat, and I’m proud of you.” Oleana was excited to confirm that her years of training with her son translated well in the real world, but she couldn’t hold onto that feeling. Her thoughts were plagued by all the things that went wrong, being outed in front of the deans, letting the Master of Animals get away. She needed time away from her son's exuberance and Daycia's passive aggressive corrections to think things through.

  “I regret not being there to witness it,” Daycia said. “Both the Dean of Science, and the Dean of Engineering said good things. They used words like agile, fast, skilled. It sounded excellent,” she smiled at Lorn in approval. “These are men that have seen plenty of battles themselves, so it is very high praise coming from them.” Lorn beamed at Daycia’s words, feeling a rush of pride flow through him at her words. “You and I should find some time to spar together, see what you do with a real challenge. See if Alwen passed on my refined techniques properly.”

  “I would love that!” Lorn exclaimed. It was an honor he never expected to receive from someone he so revered. “Yes. Yes!” Lorn jumped from his seat unable to keep himself still. “Mom, did you hear that? Would it be okay? Mom, please can I?” Lorn was practically jumping out of his skin with a frenetic energy that reminded Oleana of a hyperactive puppy.

  “Yes. Go ahead. Get your butt handed to you. You’re giving me a headache anyway.” Oleana rubbed furiously at her temples but Lorn was too excited to take any more note of his mother's sour mood.

  Lorn inhaled the tall glass of milk he had precariously perched on the arm of his chair. Then his eyes slid to Oleana’s. She offered it up without a complaint. He gulped it down too fast to be healthy, then he dove to the corner, digging through his bag. Crumpled pants, a bar of soap, his med kit, all hit the floor.

  “What are you doing?” Oleana moved her feet to keep from getting hit by some piece of flying clothing.

  “I...need...my… Here it is.” Lorn pulled out the fold-up bow he’d designed himself. It was his favorite weapon of all the ones he was trained on. In the back zippered pocket, he pulled out a quiver with sixteen arrows. “If you think I’m good with the short sword, you have no idea.” His face lit up with a self-satisfied smile as he held up the weapon to show Daycia.

  Daycia nodded, studying the bow carefully. “I know the perfect place to test you out. On the way, we can have a chat with the rangers, start the search for our missing king.”

  “You do that and I’ll entertain myself,” Oleana’s mood picked up. She knew exactly where she wanted to go.

  Lorn hesitated. “You aren’t joining us? Is it safe to go off by yourself?”

  “You two go have your fun. I have my own way of blowing off steam. And I can protect myself thank you,” Oleana reassured him.

  The boy looked torn. His eyes held a worry that was beyond his years, but it fit. It reminded Oleana of a previous version of Lorn long dead. Some things were just in the DNA. “Be careful,” he warned her, before moving for the door.

  “Clean up your mess first,” Oleana chided. “You know better.”

  Lorn’s full cheeks flushed red. “Sorry.” He scooped up his things in a hurry and stuffed them back into the bag with no regard for placement or organization. Oleana knew she’d end up repacking it later, or it would drive her crazy.

  “Try not to worry too much,” Daycia said, patting Oleana on the shoulder.

  Oleana wondered whether the comment was directed toward her concern for Lorn, or her irritation over finding the Master of Animals. Either way she recognized it as good advice, but didn’t know how to take it. She smiled at her mentor. “I don’t know how to do anything else. And Lorn remember, move swift, be safe, and I love you.”

  Her son nodded.

  As soon as the they were out of sight, Oleana grabbed her money pouch before stashing her and Lorn’s bags behind Daycia’s desk. Solon was known worldwide for four things: the great wall, the college, the market, and the plethora of local distilleries. The last time she was in town she hadn’t had the time to partake of the last feature. She was more than ready to make up for it.

  100101<
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  The Dusty Owl was a pub close enough to the School of History to remain in Oleana’s comfort zone, yet far enough off the main road to not be the go-to spot for every student and traveler walking by. With the lunch rush having passed, Oleana spotted enough open booths to be comfortable. The place was clean and sparse, the perfect combination for someone who wanted a good drink without the frills that accompany a hefty price tag.

  The smell of fried meat and steamed vegetables clung to the air. The long, freshly polished bar covered most of the back wall, and two attendants covered opposite ends. Clean, efficient, quiet. Oleana couldn’t be happier. Daycia and Lorn had their way of having fun, but it often ended in strange bruises. Oleana’s way only sometimes ended in a slight headache in the morning. Whose way sounded better?

  A young woman with hair cropped close to her head, and discerning eyes, led Oleana to a booth in the back with a clear path to both exits, and away from the windows at the front of the building. Oleana ordered two double shots of rum and a veggie omelet. The place used local orenten eggs, which were double the size of a chicken’s, and had more of a spicy flavor.

  Oleana downed her first shot of rum in a hurry. It had been a long day, and she’d gone a long time without even a drop to drink. As soon as the warmth settled in her belly, she felt the tension in her chest ease, and the headache at her temples fade just a notch. She filled her trusted flask with the other. When her omelet came, Oleana ordered two more shots. With everything behind her she could finally relax, and breathe deep.