by Glen Johnson
It’s not as if anything would be set alight, it was simply sand... sand everywhere.
Qwat was rummaging through the embers; a bit of charcoal was a nice change to sandstone and sedimentary rock. What he wouldn’t give for a nice chunk of granite, or quarts. He had black smears around his wide mouth as he finished his breakfast.
Slis on the other hand was still hungry; all he had found to eat was slim pickings off a couple small, what looked like, lizard carcasses, which had been tossed to the side. After he had finished getting every last scrap off, he tossed it t o Qwat, who proceeded to munch down on the bones.
How Slis hated the desert and its crushing heat. His scales were drying out and becoming brittle. The sand was so rough and corrosive against his under belly. What he wouldn’t give to be soaking in his scummy cold pond, eating a nice raw fish head right about now.
Qwat had finished the skeletons and all the charco al and came to stand beside Slis. In the distance, from their elevated position, they could see sand and dust being kicked up by the small group who were heading towar ds the large city of Keep Safe.
Qwat burped. A tong of flames erupted from his nos trils. He patted his warty gut.
Slis’ stomach rumbled. His belly was empty on the inside and aching from the hot rough sand on the outside. What a great start to a new day , he thought. It could only get better , he decided.
How wrong he was.
*
It was scorching in the heat, even at the break of dawn. They had been traveling for only an hour and the heat was affecting them already. The small group trudged along at a controlled rate, trying to control their breathing in the deserts wicked temperature.
Minika had pointed out that they would reach the city within hours. It was dangerous traveling around during the heat of the day, but they needed to get to the location of the Temple of Time as fast as humanly, el fingly and dwarfingly possible.
Minika needed to get to the city of Keep Safe because part of the message she was sent was in code. The ancient Grimoire of Absconditus was locked away in the city’s dry catacombs. The message had reference to one particular word on one line on one page. As a child her father would send her codes to break. They would be simple to start with, but eventually they became complicated. One code had taken her three months to crack, because it was so old and unused. The code was a Vigenere Cipher, which needed a keyword to crack it. So until she knew what word was her Key, the Spells location was just gibberish.
Time was of the essence.
Time was not on their side.
As soon as she reached Keep Safe and deciphered the code, she would speak with her father before heading back out . He could only write so much in the letter, in case it was intercepted. She could have used her magic, but even that wasn’t guaranteed, because even the demons were powerful in spell casting and could eavesdrop on her conversation. The only safe option was the communication spheres, ancient powerful devices that were kept at the main cities. Minika had plenty of questions she needed to ask. As she walked along, she began compiling a long list.
Pramos was still trying to keep up with Minika’s long strides. She never seems to tire , he mused. He could have quite easily slowed right down and t ake his time, but he didn’t want her to think he was weak, because of not being able to keep up with her. Maybe she was using her magic? That would be unfair.
All the while Pramos was keeping an eye out for anything edible ; anything to supplement their food wh ich, in the desert, wasn’t much , but mainly he was trying to impress the mag us with his vast bush-craft knowledge. But so far this morning, apart from the courteous good morning, she hadn’t said anything to him, just made a few statements to the whole group.
Pramos concentrated on the ground around him, trying to find something impressive to point out, but it was all just sand. Because that failed he was trying to think of something really witty or intelligent to say. So far he couldn’t think of a single thing.
Leinthren was in a foul mood. He was hung -over , and had no prospect of another drink until they reached the city of Keep Safe. And even then he would have trouble losing his human shadow so he could go and procure some drin-wos wine.
They kept telling him they needed him sharp, for when they needed his tracking abilities. He hadn’t pointed out that he wasn’t a great tracker, it’s just he had lived for so long, he knew vast a reas like the back of his hand.
So to distract his thought from his thumping head, and sober body, he started to list all the different alcoholic beverages he could purchase at the city. It was a long list. Maybe I w ill need a cart of some kind?
Droncin on the other hand was having the time of his life. The heat didn’t seemed to affect him even though he was clad in armor and thick woven clothing. His large axe was resting against his shoulder, as he walked along at the back of the group. He had been polishing his axe for most of his watch last night, and the sun glinted off its radiant surface. He walked, unknowingly with an object over his shoulder that was like a beacon for miles around. He ambled along at the rearguard, composing songs that would eventually be sung about his heroic exploits.
Everyone seemed to be preoccupied as they headed towards a narrow canyon, to the point where no one was really keeping watch on the surrounding area. It was because of this that no one noticed the attackers until it was much too late.
Chapter Thirteen
SHORT AND SWEET
Vorr stood stock still, his finger tapp ed slowly against his long pointed fan gs. He lowered his hands and spoke in a whisper. “I apologize if I sound like I’m ungrateful, but, is that it? I mean to say, that’s all you’ve got , one sentence? I was kind of expectin g at least a paragraph or two.”
The huge bulk of the prophetess shifted. Another tether broke away, disappearing into the bubbling magma below in a roaring h iss and billowing steam cloud.
Vorr started to pace back and forth along the edge of the sheer cliff.
“Over two thousand years I have been waiting for this... this… um, prophesy.” He crossed his arms, one finger tapping against his bicep. “And you give me one single sentence?” He rubbed his larg e hand over his domed forehead.
“That is all.” The huge hanging form of the supposed prophetess stated. She hadn’t noticed his anger slowly rising. But then, she never got visitors. She didn’t know how to read emotions anymore. She had been fed to the point of severe obesity, even for her kind, and was now to o big to leave the chamber. All she ever interacted with was her offspring, wh ich she treated like slaves and ate when th ey became too large to control.
“But, it doesn’t even make sense.” Vorr was so confused by what the creature had said that his anger was being replaced by confusion. “I don’t even understand its me aning.” He waved a powerful arm in a dismis sive gesture. “Repeat it again.”
It almost sounded like a sigh coming from the huge bloated form of the suspended prophetess. Her vast wing casings vibrated for a fraction o f a second, as if in annoyance.
“In a time of great sor row seven will heal the world.”
Chapter Fourteen
A CHILDS TOUCH
Rocks and falling masonry rained down around the gateway of New Babel, where the city’s main market met daily in the open square in front of the Main Gate. People , in their confusion , fell to the waysides , taking cover in doorways and under wagons and mar ket stalls. Tables were upended. Fruit was squashed under panicked boots. Livestock escap ed their battered cages, adding to the bedlam. Screams of agony and fear rebou nded off the steep stone walls.
The Order of Sanctum charged from their defens ive garrison buildings that sat on each side of the gateway, taking up a stance around the pile of falling rubble while shouting at each other, rallying more men from the guard house. Weapons magically enhanced by powerful runes held ready. Runes also glow ed blue on their dark clothing and armor, ready to protect them from harm.
The gate closed, the large protective Sphere – responding to
the panic and fear, and many raised weapons – acted accordingly. The group of merchants who had been on their way , and almost through the gate , had been locked out, with a few stragglers in side the main gateway who were trying to make sense of the bedlam.
The black clad Order of Sanctum had the few strangers pinned up against the outer wall , in case this had anything to do with them. It seemed a coincidence that the walls were falling in when they reached the city.
The overall feeling though was confusion.
The remaining merchants outside were banging their weapons on the massive, magically sealed gate, trying to get a response, and trying to find out what was happing to their people that were beyond the closed portal. They shouted threats and insults at the watchers from above, whom they believed had tricked them.
The dust started to settle, with small stones still raining down, pinging off overturned stalls and soldier’s armor. Screams were slowly aba ting. An eerie silence descended . Only the bray ing and squawk ing of animals could be heard. Something, or someone had caused this, walls didn’t explode on the ir own. Behind it all was a reason –malice.
That reason started to rise from the rubble. His white garment was now charred up to the knees and covered in dust and debris. Like the rising undead Simeon climbed from the destruction his anger had created, his white hair matted t o his head with dust and sweat and blood .
The Order of Sanctum looked on in confusion. Their leader was climbing from the calamity. They looked to their c aptain for orders, but he was as disorientated as they were.
The c aptain had heard rumors about the cit y’s leader. Rumors of the great man sliding into madness; rumors circulating as to Simeon ’s mental and physical health. Slowly stepping back from the running of the city by giving more power over to the other council members , so he could concentrate on the Book. A book that promised salvation to all; even though the reason why had never been announced to the general city inhabitants. People speculated and gossiped; it was human nature.
Simeon ignored all the panicked onlookers, as his arms twisted and turned in complicated patterns, while dripping blood over him self. He created a swirling mass of runes floating in the air that built up into a colossal , collective ball, which then moved and merged with the Sphere hanging over the Main Gate that protected the city. The runes turned from a misty white to a vibrant red, then slowly subdued to an aqua blue , before dispersing completely.
Simeon lowered his head , his hands lay immobile at his sides. Ragged breaths moved his chest, this was the only sign of life his hollow, skinny body held. He had his answer. Sadness hit him like a physical punch. But it soon turned to anger, slowly smoldering beneath his calm exterior.
Everyone held their collective breath. What was happing? Was it a massive attack by the demons ? Was this the final confrontation that so many ha d speculated about for decades?
Only a child had the courage to move, she broke away from her mother’s protection, and ran to Simeon ’s side. She had seen him walking the corridors where her mother cooked in the citadels towering structures. She stood motionless, almost mimicking the old man’s inert manner. Slowly, as not to alarm the sad, tattered old man, she raised a small arm and grasped his hand in hers.
“It’s going to be okay ,” sh e whispered. “Don’t be scared.”
As if in a daze Simeon ’s head slowly turned to the new sound, and the light touch of the small , smooth hand. A tear escaped one eye and ran down his hollow cheek, washing a channel in the dust and blood. He seemed to have aged, the weight of years weighing him down, p ressing on his boney shoulders.
The child’s mother ran to her side, snatching her up in her shaking arms. Her little hand held on to the last possible moment, before her mother’s m omentum made her lose her grip.
The soldiers shifted their feet . Sounds started to drift back down the main avenue; coughing from the floating masonry dust , and m urmurs of confusion and speculations as to what had just transpired. More soldiers from other parts of the city piled into the main square. They halted when no apparent attacker became obvious.
Tami’il Haroot, a mid—sixties female member of the Council of Seven – in charge of the city ’s security – turned a corner and saw the destruction. She had been alerted to the gates closing. A group of twenty black clad Order of Sanctum soldiers followed in her wake. Haroot headed towards Simeon .
The Sphere noticed the change in the air, and the lack of violence. The Main Gate started to grind open, with the traveling merchants outside spilling in, trying to locate their family and friends, and trying to understand why a pile of rubble fille d the area beyond the entrance.
Simeon seemed to come around; parting contact with the small child had awakened something in him; a lost memory or a buried one. “There is every reason to be scared,” he muttered to himself as he watched the child over her mothers shoulder wave bye to him.
A child, so young. A life so simple, so uncaring in such a violent world. And about to get more so.
“Captain, ” Simeon said in a slurred whisper. “Sorry to have startled you.” But he wasn’t looking at the captain, rather he still followed the child as she was rushed aw ay.
The c aptain was glad to see the female mag us Haroot heading in his direction. At last, a council member that didn’t seem to be losing her mind.
Simeon started to sweep his bleeding hands in concentric circles. The old mag us covered the rubble in runes, interlocking and covering all the damage. Then, in an almost backwards explosion, silently , the stones started to slowly levitate upwards, returning to the positions they had fallen from, with a vortex of wind sucking the dust from every surface. In less than a minute the street had retuned to its normal condition, as if nothing out of the ordinary had transpired.
Simeon had got the answer he needed from the Sphere. An answer that almost buckled his legs from under him, and mixed with the effect of using so much magic, he was using every ounce of strength to remain standing. He had already lost his tempter once, and needed to keep his cool. Collapsing in fear in front the already traumatized witnesses would on ly make things ten times worse.
He could feel the council member’s presence striding towards him. Confusions was radiating from her like a lighthouse.
With one last look at the small child’s distant face, Simeon turned and faced Haroot as she halted a few steps away. He raised a hand to halt any questions. “Assemble the council , I want all of them in the chamber in an hour.” The city was vast, it would take time to stir the members and gather them together.
Simeon walked off, leaving Haroot stood with her mouth hanging open. He headed towards the council chamber of the ruling Council of Seven. The council had a few answers for him, and he would happily force them in to compliance. They had kept a se cret from him for far too long.
There was also a matter of organizing and rallying an army. He was afraid that Minika and her small band of helpers wouldn’t be enough to accomplish the task set for them , n ot with the information he had just learned .
“Selena,” he muttered, fighting back more tears. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
Chapter Fifteen
SECRETS
The noise was more unsettling than the initial attack. One minute the small group was ambling along, each lost in thought , the next it was complete chaos. Guttural screams echoed from all directions, from creatures incapable of words or speech. The Clash of stone weapons on shields as they charged ; they hop ed the sound wou ld destroy any hope of defense.
*
After it was all over, Droncin was more embarrassed than angry. He was meant to be keeping watch, not mumbling songs of his future victories under his breath; creating ballets that would be sung by future generations. His cheeks were still flushed red, and not from the small battle, because he didn’t even have chance to raise his axe. If he carried on like th is no one would hear about his name and exploits , because he would be dead.
Leinthren’s hangover was th
e last thing on his mind as he looked around at the destruction of the last few minutes. It had all happened so fast, his head was still spinning. Bodies lay all around him, twisted and deformed by magic. His cane was in two parts at his feet, caused by a deflection of a stone sword the creatures were using that flew through the air. The elf sat on a rock, massaging his leg. He had stumbled when they first charged at them; he had almost broken his skinny leg in two.
Pramos stood besides Minika, like a mother hen, checking her every few minutes. He would wander off, check on the elf or dwarf then come striding back. The mag us just sat on a rock, looking completely exhausted and perplexed while staring at the defeated foe. Her hair was a tangled mess, her clothing all dusty and covered in melted fragments of stone. A few shards had struck her face, small cuts and lines of blood ran from the minute wounds. Her breathing came in gagged bursts, as if reliving her last few actions.
Around them lay twenty bodies, melted beyond recognition . The creatures had crawled from the very ground, others morphing from the cliff face they were passing, as if the very rock itself had c o me alive, seeking light and life. Huge lumbering bipeds made of stone and undulating sand. Weapons chiseled from rock in their vast, kno b bly hands.
Only one person seemed to keep their cool –Minika. As the others ran to group up, create a defense wall, Minika strode past them all, her staff raised above her head, words screaming from her mouth, to be heard above the sound of the attacking, stone warriors. Runes materialized, pouring from the end of her wooden staff; glowing like the very sun, momentarily surpassing the morning orb in intensity. The runes started to circle the four, creating a band of glowing fire, with the sand being blown in all directions, and melting a furrow around them. Then, in a split instant, as the mag us slammed her staff into the ground the wall of runes expanded, like a sonic explosion it engulf ed the charging stone figures.
