by Dean Cadman
“Yeah, sorry about that. I’m glad you saw it coming in time to stop it,” Lusam replied.
Arlo’s laughter suddenly echoed all around them. “Me too,” he said. “But it would have been my own fault anyway for letting down my guard. It seems that Ryuu wasn’t the only one to underestimate you, Lusam. I’m just as guilty of it, too.”
Lusam smiled and watched as Arlo pushed open one of the massive wooden doors with a great heave. The gold and silver inlays sparkled in the sunlight, and he marvelled at the complexity of their design, wondering just how long it would take someone to create such a thing of beauty.
“I thought they would have been magical,” Lusam said, nodding towards the doors.
“Hmm, they were once,” Arlo replied, slightly breathless with the exertion. “The problem is, as you’ve no doubt already discovered, magic isn’t exactly in plentiful supply around here. And anything that you attempt to enchant, such as these doors, quickly loses its magical charge to the pull of the environment. It was a lesson I learned early on when I started to build this place.”
“What! You built this place alone?” Lusam gasped.
“Yes, of course. How else do you think it got here?” Arlo said, chuckling to himself.
“How? … How could one person possibly build something like this?”
Arlo shrugged. “Given enough time and determination, anything is possible. And time, I most definitely have had, if not always the determination. But truth be told, parts of the building are still a work in progress. I seem to have become a little lazy over the past century or so, but I’m sure that I’ll finish it eventually,” he said, pushing the door closed again. The difference in temperature and humidity inside was dramatic. It almost felt like he had moved from summer to winter in a single footstep.
“Ah… that’s better,” Arlo said, shaking the front of his loose shirt to allow the cool air to reach his skin below.
“Whoa!” Lusam gasped, as he took in his surroundings. Everywhere he looked he saw works of art beyond anything he could ever have imagined. Statues and carvings of stone and marble. Wall hangings with images so life-like that it appeared you could simply step through them into another world. And a floor, so incredible, it took his breath away. At first, he thought the image of the dragon and its rider had been created using a mosaic of tiles or other similar materials. But when he studied it more closely, he saw that there were no seams or joints anywhere to be seen. Somehow the entire floor—including the incredible image—had been created as a single piece. The colours and textures of the image seemed to leap out at him in the multicoloured light shining down from the crystal dome above.
He could barely tear his eyes away from the image to look up, but when he did, he gasped again. The dome above him was truly magnificent. The one at Coldmont had been badly damaged by the tremors, and had been almost opaque on the outside due to the countless centuries of dirt and grime. But this one dazzled him with its clarity and beauty, as it cast its rainbow-like light across the floor with an almost divine grace. And then he saw it: the incredible image on the ceiling. His heart leapt in his chest at its majesty and scale.
“Helveel,” he whispered, seeing for the first time what the temple there had once looked like.
“Ula’ree,” Arlo said, looking up at the image. “It was always my favourite temple, and when Aysha revealed her plans to us regarding the books, I had hoped to be the one sent there.”
“Why, did you have friends there?” Lusam asked, curiously.
“No,” Arlo replied, shaking his head. “It’s just that apart from Coldmont, Ula’ree was the most northerly temple chosen to hide a Guardian book, so the weather there would have suited me far better. Instead, I was assigned to the most southerly temple on The Pearl Isles, which was bad enough in summer, but nothing compared to where I eventually ended up… here. Did I mention how much I hate the hot and humid weather?” he said, grinning at Lusam.
“Hmm… you might have,” Lusam replied, smiling and playing along with him. Arlo’s sense of humour was certainly not lost on Lusam. In fact, he was now beginning to understand where he had inherited his own from, and wondered if it might not have played at least a small part in why Arlo had been posted to the remote Pearl Isles, instead of Ula’ree. But he decided not to mention it—at least not until he got to know him a little better first.
Wherever Lusam looked, he seemed to see a new work of art that he hadn’t noticed before. Vases, statues and even ornate glassware graced every part of the enormous room. “I still don’t understand how you could have created something like this alone—no matter how much time you’ve had to do it. I mean… where did you even get the stone from to build it? Or the glass? Or… anything, for that matter. All I’ve seen since arriving in this realm are trees and mud. Apart from the mountain, of course. And how in Aysha’s name could you possibly have created works of art such as these?” he said, gesturing around the room. “Let alone a masterpiece like that on the ceiling.”
Arlo chuckled at the look of confusion on his face and tried to think of a simple way to explain it. He looked around the room for an object to demonstrate on, but truth be told he’d finally—just about—got the place to his liking, and didn’t really want to risk destroying one of his creations simply to give Lusam a demonstration on how it was made. He had never been a particularly artistic person, and many of the objects in the room had taken countless attempts to create before he had been happy with the final results. After all, reshaping a block of stone into a perfect rectangle for building purposes was one thing, but turning that same block of stone into a life-size statue of someone he once knew, was quite another.
He was just about to suggest that they went outside so that he could demonstrate the process there, when he suddenly remembered a couple of repairs he’d been meaning to do for several months now. Ryuu didn’t often enter the main building, much preferring to remain outside instead. The reason, or so he claimed, was that he liked to have access to the sky whenever he wanted. But Arlo suspected it was more to do with him liking the warmth and humidity outside, as opposed to the magically cooled interior of the building. The last time Ryuu had been inside was during a particularly nasty storm several months earlier, and he had left two deep gouges in the floor with his talons where he had slipped on the polished surface. Unlike Coldmont, neither the building nor the floors were magically protected, which meant that occasional damage was all but inevitable, especially with a large dragon around.
“Come with me and I’ll show you how it’s done,” Arlo said, walking towards to the gouges in the floor. When he saw the damage, Lusam didn’t have to ask what had caused it; it was quite obvious. But he was curious as to how Arlo would repair it. If it had been made of metal, he could have repaired it himself by heating it up until it became molten and then reshaping it, just as he had done countless times before. He thought that he could probably do the same thing with stone too if he used enough magic to generate the heat required to melt it. But after the process was complete, he was certain that it would no longer resemble the perfectly flat and polished floor that it was now.
Arlo knelt down next to one of the gouges and took a breath to speak, but when he looked up at Lusam, he seemed to pause and a strange look of confusion spread across his face.
“Something wrong?” Lusam asked.
“I don’t understand,” he said, shaking his head slightly. “I saw the memories of you reading the books in Ula’ree, Coldmont and Lamuria, but your aura…”
“Is hidden,” Lusam replied, lifting the shutter from around his mind before he could reply. Arlo’s eyes went wide as Lusam revealed his full aura.
“Well… I’ve never seen that done before. Actually, thinking about it, that should be—”
“Impossible,” Lusam said, cutting him off mid-sentence. “Trust me, I’ve been told that many times, too.” Arlo chuckled loudly, and even Lusam had to smile at his infectious laughter.
“It seems that all I�
�ve done since we first met is tell you things are impossible, when they’re clearly not. Anyway, let’s get back to what we were doing here,” he said, placing a hand next to a gouge on the floor. He began chanting several words of power and Lusam could feel the magic emanating from him. The floor seemed to briefly become a liquid and ripple under his hand, before reforming back into a perfectly solid flat surface—minus the gouge.
“Now you try,” Arlo said, pointing to the second gouge.
“Me? But I don’t know how.”
“Yes, you do. Search your mind. The knowledge that you require was contained within the Guardian book at Lamuria. You just haven’t recognised it for what it is yet.”
“I… I don’t understand,” Lusam replied. He had no idea how to replicate the process he’d just witnessed. And if the information had indeed been in the Guardian book at Lamuria, he had no recollection of it whatsoever.
Arlo smiled and nodded at him. “I suppose it’s only to be expected, really.”
“What is?”
“That you cannot yet access the full depth of the knowledge that you absorbed.”
“I still don’t understand,” Lusam said, becoming more confused by the second.
“If you will allow me,” Arlo said, reaching a hand out towards his head. Lusam instinctively pulled away from his touch, the recent memories of his intrusion fresh in his mind. Arlo paused, and a look of shame and sadness filled his eyes.
“I very much regret what I did to you outside, Lusam. You have no idea how sorry I am. There can be no excuse for my actions. I broke one of our most sacred laws by invading your mind uninvited like that, and in such a brutal way too. I know what I did to you is unforgivable, and I give you my word, as a Guardian, and as your father, that it will never happen again. But if you would allow me access to your mind, willingly this time, I can help you to understand what it is that you carry within you. I swear to you that I would only seek out the knowledge given to you by the books, and nothing more. But after what I did to you earlier, I would completely understand if you decide not to allow me,” Arlo said quietly.
Lusam could tell by his voice that he was genuinely sorry for what he’d done, but the thought of allowing him access to his mind again sent a sharp shiver up his spine. Lusam knew how long it had taken, and how hard it had been, for him to put the terrible memories of his mother’s final moments to rest. It had been like an open wound in his mind for many weeks after it had happened. A wound that had finally stopped bleeding and scabbed over. And now in a single act that scab had been ripped away, and the painful memories were threatening to bleed into his thoughts once more.
Lusam looked up at Arlo and saw the torment and regret in his face, and knew at that moment that he couldn’t possibly hold it against him. Not only was this man a Guardian, he was also his father. A father he had never even dreamed of knowing. And a father who had only been trying to discover the fate, and possibly seek revenge for the death of the one he loved—his mother. How could he possibly blame him for that? He met his father’s tortured eyes with a smile and nodded, then watched as his guilt-ridden face lit up with relief and joy.
“But, can I ask you something first? Well, actually it’s two things” Lusam said, breaking the silence between them.
“Of course, what is it?”
“Well… I was just wondering. If it’s possible to read another person’s mind, is it also possible to share your memories with someone else?”
A broad smile spread across Arlo’s face. “You’re wondering if I could share my memories of your mother with you?”
Lusam nodded, then suddenly flushed brightly as he realised what he’d just asked. “But… but not all of them.”
Arlo’s laughter rang out around the large chamber, causing Lusam’s face to redden still further. When he finally stopped, he managed to say, “Yes, it is. And you don’t have to worry, it’s also possible to select exactly which memories you choose to share with someone else.”
“That’s good to know,” Lusam replied, sheepishly.
“And?”
“And what?” Lusam replied.
“You said there were two things.”
“Oh… yeah, sorry,” he said, pausing briefly before continuing. “I hope you don’t take this the wrong way, but I was hoping that you wouldn’t mind me calling you Arlo for a little while longer. Just until I get used to the idea of calling you, father. Seven Hells, until I get used to the idea of actually having a father, for that matter. It’s all been a bit…”
“A bit of a shock,” Arlo said, grinning. “You’re not kidding it has. And of course, there’s no rush. We’ll have plenty of time to get to know one another better, I’m sure.”
“Thanks,” Lusam replied, with a smile. “I guess it was just as big of a shock for you, too, eh?”
“Oh… you have no idea just how big of a shock it really was,” he replied, chuckling to himself. “Especially considering it’s supposed to be impossible for me to even have children.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, I can only tell you what I know,” Arlo said, with a small sigh. “Many centuries ago, after the long and bloody battle at The Great Rift had ended, Aysha appeared to the five remaining Guardians and instructed us all to attend the High Temple in Lamuria. It was there that she instructed us on how to create the five Guardian books, and told us where each of them should be hidden and for what reason. It was during that visit that we were also informed that our bloodlines were to end with us. None of the five remaining Guardians had any children, and nor would we be able to conceive any from that day hence. And so, as you can imagine, it was a surprise, to say the least when I discovered that you were my son.”
“A realm hidden from my sight,” Lusam whispered to himself, remembering Aysha’s words.
“What’s that?”
“A realm hidden from my sight,” Lusam repeated. “It’s how Aysha described this place to me. She told me that she had seen me entering a realm hidden from her sight.” Arlo gave him a questioning look but remained silent. “Don’t you see? If Aysha is unable to see into this realm, maybe her influence cannot be felt here, either. I suppose what I’m trying to say is this: whatever she did in our world to prevent you all from having children, obviously doesn’t appear to have any effect here.”
“An interesting theory,” Arlo replied, with a thoughtful look on his face. “And one which is not without its merits. It would certainly explain a few things, that’s for sure.”
“Like what?” Lusam asked, curiously.
Arlo seemed to consider his reply very carefully, before finally saying, “I’m sure that we’ll have plenty of time to discuss that later. But for now, maybe we should return to what we were doing before we became so distracted.”
Lusam nodded, then looked down at the gouge on the floor. He had to admit to being curious about learning something new, especially considering that he was already supposed to know the information. If Arlo was right and he did indeed already possess the knowledge, he couldn’t help but wonder just how much more he really knew, and if Arlo could help him access that knowledge, too. He took a deep breath and nodded to let Arlo know he was ready.
Lusam closed his eyes and flinched slightly when Arlo placed his hand on his forehead.
“It’s alright. Relax. It won’t hurt, I promise.”
Lusam nodded again, then released his pent-up breath. He heard Arlo quietly speaking the words or power, and felt his presence enter the edge of his mind. Arlo paused for a moment, then tried to push a little deeper, but his mental barriers prevented him for doing so. Last time Arlo had effortlessly brushed his mental defences aside as if they weren’t even there, but this time he simply waited for him to relax and lower them himself. Tentatively, Lusam forced himself to lower his mental barriers and immediately felt Arlo’s presence move deeper into his mind. Images of the three Guardian books at Helveel, Coldmont and Lamuria came to the forefront of his mind, and he relived the moments just
prior to reading them. He could sense Arlo selecting the knowledge from Lamuria’s Guardian book, and then searching through it for something specific. Once he had found what he was looking for, he simply pulled the information free and exposed it to his conscious mind. It was like taking something out of a darkened room and placing it in the sunlight outside, and he suddenly knew exactly how to fix the floor. He felt a small stab of pain in his temples, but it passed almost as quickly as it came, and Arlo’s presence slowly faded away from his mind.
“Are you alright?” Arlo asked, sounding a little concerned.
“Yes, I’m fine, thanks,” Lusam replied, rubbing at his temples.
“Good,” Arlo said, with obvious relief. “But you’d better give yourself a few moments to recover before we continue.”
“No, really, I’m fine,” Lusam insisted. Seeing the Guardian books in his mind had reminded him of why he was really there, and the fact that he had to get back to his own world as soon as possible. But he sensed that whatever Arlo was trying to teach him was important—at least to him—and didn’t want to appear rude by ignoring his tuition and asking to read the Guardian book right away. Maybe it was a father-son thing, he didn’t know. But whatever it was, he wanted to get it over with and move on as quickly as possible.
“So… can I try?” Lusam asked, pointing towards the gouge in the floor.
“If you feel up to it,” Arlo replied, then quickly added, “but you really don’t have to. I can fix it later, myself.”
Lusam smiled at him. “No, honestly, I’d really like to give it a go. It’s strange to imagine that everything is made up of tiny building blocks, and all I have to do is loosen the connections between them and rearrange their positions.”
