Lore of Sanctum Omnibus

by Elaina J Davidson

  He stared up.

  The sky was sapphire blue, the sun a bright disc overhead. It seemed unlikely it could rain here - and had not for thousands of years - yet water there was on the fertile plains and gathered in the embrace of the mountains.

  He knew, for Saska told him, this world had two seasons, both generally hot; one was dry, the other wet. He now spied roiling thunderclouds on the horizon and realised it heralded a thunderstorm, but perhaps it would not travel this far before releasing its load. It was not yet the wet season.

  The cool mountain abodes were reopened, shored up, excavated where necessary; the entrance lay before Declan.

  According to Saska, and that was ten years ago, the palace in the mountains required years of labour to restore to former glory, but the attempt was in progress and she chose to live on the site of the renovations. Five years ago she sent Lily away to her other duties, for the planet achieved a state of self-sustenance, and proceeded to concentrate her energy on the world inside the mountain. Caballa, he heard, joined her.

  Perhaps there were others now.

  He crossed the ridge, entered the blessed cool and was astonished. He expected darkness and found mural walls, a tinkling fountain, and plants healthy in lovely urns. Pebbles shone through the water of the fountain akin to jewels.

  Beyond were more chambers - one could not call them caverns - and each was as welcoming and attractive. Bridges spanned canals filled with cold mountain water and the tinkle of liquid bliss was everywhere. Lifelike, painted renditions of creepers vied for space with the real thing and in every hue of green one could imagine. Dainty roses tumbled from beautiful urns, and daffodils and cornflowers spilled from verges alongside the canals.

  As Declan walked open-mouthed into the palace that was older than he was, he discovered sunny courtyards, cool squares, green lawns, bright ponds, more bridges, realised the canals teemed with tiny, bright fishes, saw more flowers than he had seen in years of visits to other worlds, and was utterly astounded.

  He came to a halt in a large chamber and stared up.

  Sunlight poured through open domes in the rock, but was filtered by crisscrossing vines and creepers, and tiny birds flitted in and out of the foliage. The stone underfoot was polished to mirror sheen and the walls rendered in lifelike landscapes. He wanted to lie in its embrace forever. A tear slid over his pale cheek and his wings quivered with emotion. It was true haven.

  Torrullin would find peace here. This was a Throne-room for a god.

  “Declan?”

  Saska’s voice, full of surprise and pleasure.

  He brought his emotions under control, and smiled.

  Gods, she was beautiful and, damn, she suited this place. Her bluish hair and emerald eyes blended with the coolness of the haven, like a muse of this world. She wore a trailing, pale blue gown, and was a vision even a blind man could appreciate.

  “Saska!” Declan laughed and opened his arms to her. He surprised even himself, for he was not generally given to displays of affection.

  She laughed and came into his arms without reservation. They had known each other a long time.

  “It’s good to see you, my friend,” she whispered, squeezing him, and then let go to wipe wet cheeks. “Silly me, crying like a baby.”

  Declan swallowed. “It is good to see you.” He gestured around, to give both of them a chance to recover. “You have worked a miracle.”

  “I can’t take full credit,” she smiled. “Not only did I have help, but this place seemed to take itself back to what it was once attention was bestowed upon it. Caballa and I think it is part of Nemisin’s legacy. And it is beautiful, isn’t it?”

  “I do not have words,” Declan murmured, and focused on her again. “You are more beautiful than I have ever seen you, Saska. You are a vision and I believe it is this wondrous place that gifts …” He blushed and looked away. “I do not know how to properly compliment a woman anymore.”

  She laid a cool hand on his burning cheek. “Thank you.”

  He smiled. “You belong here.”

  A shadow flitted into her eyes, and was gone. “Thank you.”

  “He would see what I see.”

  She forced a smile. “One day, perhaps.” Then she was again the Saska who entered into his presence with surprise and pleasure. She took his hand and tugged. “Come, I must show you everything!”

  Laughing, he allowed himself to be led away.

  Inside, he called Torrullin the biggest fool in the universe.

  “THIS PLACE IS AMAZING,” she said as she led Declan around.

  “There are kitchen areas, communal regions, suites, private gardens, libraries, sport facilities, theatres …” She laughed. “You name it, it’s here! There was a lot of debris to clear away at first, but the integrity of the chambers were not undermined. A shore up here, a new beam there, but nothing we could not handle. And once we began cleaning out cobwebs and the like and swept away dust, we found these incredible murals and all manner of containers for plants and, well, plants we put in! Then we discovered the canal system running throughout the complex and it was simple enough to track it back to an underground supply, which, by the way, fills up regularly and …”

  “Whoa!” Declan exclaimed, laughing at her enthusiasm. “Too much detail.”

  “Sorry, it’s inspiring,” Saska grinned. “We haven’t done more than restore what was, of course, and only brought a few home comforts for the areas we occupy.” She was wistful. “This place needs people, Declan, lots of them, and people bring and make their own beautiful things to fill glorious surroundings. You know?”

  “I do.”

  “Anyway, it is ready.”

  “An outstanding achievement. As a matter of interest, did you uncover anything relating to Nemisin?”

  “Yes, we did, and the Dragon Neolone.”

  “Really?” Declan paused and then could not help it. “I would like to see that.”

  She gave a rueful laugh. “I thought as much. This way.”

  Saska led him across a sunny courtyard, through a cool chamber sporting an ornate fireplace, and on into a library. There were no books, but the shelves were self-evident. They passed through there and many others until she led him into a huge domed cavern.

  It exuded the spiritual, and he came to a halt. Everything was of blue stone and the floor was without seam or join. It was akin to entering a cathedral.

  “We call it the Chamber of Biers.”

  He saw why. In recesses high and low, surrounding the entire space, were biers, each slotted neatly into position, each of the same blue stone.

  The ancient Valleur dead, by god.

  “We did nothing here,” Saska whispered. “It was as it is now.”

  Declan’s gaze was drawn to the single bier resting in the exact centre of the cathedral cavern. “Nemisin?”

  “Nemisin,” she confirmed, and followed as he wandered over to it.

  It was no different from the others. The same incredible blue stone, the same simplicity, the cool sense of history. Declan drew breath as he came to rest beside it. It looked as new now as it must have then.

  Saska said not a word, allowing him to find his way to the inscription, and when he found it he inhaled a sharpened breath.

  He bent over it to be certain, but there was no doubt. First there was an engraved likeness of Nemisin - his face and shoulders - and then came his name - flowing, formal Valleur glyphs - and then the epitaph. Below that, another, in a different hand. It was more roughly done, as if the inscriber hurried in his task.

  “Gods,” he muttered. He lifted eyes full of astonishment to Saska. “Am I seeing right?”

  She nodded.

  Declan was drawn back to the bier. “I wonder if Torrullin has seen this?”

  “I doubt it. The entrances were blocked.”

  “He need not have come in person. A seer can see backwards also,” the Siric muttered, and did not see her shiver. “Nemisin and Torrullin are like … twins. I wonde
r if that is why the Valleur took him to their hearts? An unknown entity, a half-blood, the Vallorin? They should have given him a hard time and yet he was one of them from the first moment. Valleur memories, hmm?”

  “Probably,” Saska murmured.

  “’Here lies Nemisin, First Father of the mighty Valleur, Vallorin, father, healer, enchanter, creator of the Golden Throne. May our beloved rest in eternal peace.’” Declan looked up. “These dates make no sense.”

  “How long do you think he was interred here?” Saska pointed out.

  The Siric blanched. “Gods, that is old.”

  Saska quoted, “’Year 792 to 4999, Epoch of the Dancing Suns’. He was over four thousand years old when he died.”

  “The Epoch of the Dancing Suns is legendary and refers to the time when Time was yet to be counted,” Declan whispered.

  Saska gave a laugh. “The Valleur, Masters of the Universe.”

  “Deservedly so,” Declan muttered. “And this rough scribble?”

  “We suspect Neolone.”

  He bent over it, intrigued. “’Here lies the man of power who gave power to his descendants in a mighty symbiosis. Revere his name, as you will revere the One to come.’”

  Declan whistled. It was signed with a stylised ‘N’. It could only be the Dragon Neolone, who was in symbiosis with Nemisin and then moved on to the son upon this father’s death, until he reached Torrullin, the One. Neolone returned here to inscribe this for future generations.

  “I wonder what the Valleur made of this particular codicil?”

  “Ask Torrullin the seer,” Saska muttered.

  Declan looked up.

  “Sorry. This place gives me the creeps. Can we go?” Saska muttered.

  The Siric nodded.

  She sighed and left immediately, with Declan trailing out more slowly.

  “IS CABALLA WITH YOU?” he asked ten minutes later. He gaped at every new and incredible sight.

  “She comes and goes, but she is here at present.” Saska was silent a few paces. “Do you think he knows we are here?”

  “He knows.”

  “Ah.” It was a pained sound.

  “Saska …”

  “It’s all right. Tell me, how is Lowen?”

  She just put him smack in the middle. “Lowen is missing.”

  Saska came to a dead stop. “She left him?”

  Declan stared at his feet, his hands, arguing with himself. He should say nothing, but he liked and loved this woman; Saska was once a Guardian, as he was, and was a friend. He looked up.

  “They were never really together. If they spent six months in each other’s company in the past twenty-five years, I would be surprised.”

  “That’s not good.”

  “Very strange.”

  “No, I meant it doesn’t bode well for … reconciliation.”

  The Siric was at a loss. “I am sorry?”

  “Gods, Declan, it means he hasn’t got her out of his system, don’t you see that?”

  He opened his mouth. Closed it.

  “So she did leave him?”

  “Yes.”

  “Good for her.” Saska grimaced.

  “About ten years ago.”

  “What?” Saska snapped, and then paled. “Ten years … and nothing? Not a darkened doorway, for pity’s sake?” She gave a wry snort. “What did I tell you? She’s not yet in his past.”

  Now he did see what she meant; it explained much. “She is missing, Saska, not just gone from him. Really missing. The entire Kaval is mobilised to find her. That is why I am here.”

  “The entire Kaval? How … caring … of him.”

  He understood her anger, but chose to ignore it. “She is lost to Time. We suspect she was either coerced or fell accidentally through a portal that took her back, but how far back, we do not know.”

  “He can do the time thing.”

  “Where does he start? And when does he go back to?”

  Saska drew breath. “Oh.”

  “Exactly. And at the same time we have heard disturbing rumours concerning Sanctuary, the Kaval and Torrullin. It appears folk out there hear tales of a growing force on Sanctuary, one that aims to carve out three kingdoms in the universe, one for each Valla heir. Torrullin believes the two are linked. Lowen vanished because she knows something about these rumours.”

  “It wasn’t an accident, her vanishing.”

  Declan straightened. “Damn me … no.”

  “I may want to scratch her eyes out, but I want to. I wish her no other harm. She must be petrified somewhere.” Saska frowned. “How could I help? I’m isolated here … ah, it’s Caballa you seek.”

  “No, it is both of you.”

  Saska shrugged. “Still don’t see how I can help, and what is your mission exactly?”

  Declan gave a grimace. “I am to find Agnimus.”

  “You’re joking!”

  “I wish that were so.”

  “Agnimus? Not only has he completely disappeared, but how can he possibly help?”

  “He is an Ancient. Torrullin probably reckons he may know something about time shifts.”

  “Or is behind it; I see.”

  “There is that.”

  “I know nothing of Agnimus’ whereabouts.”

  “But maybe you found something here to point the way. Agnimus is of Nemisin’s recalcitrance, and it may be hidden in here.”

  Saska shook her head and started walking again. “Nothing on darklings, nothing on vengeful essences and nothing on Nemisin’s enchantments either. This place is wholesome, except for the dead and their biers.”

  Declan sighed. “It was worth a try.”

  “Caballa may have seen something in her visions.”

  “That is my hope, yes.”

  Saska continued walking and both were now blind to the beautiful surroundings. “Three kingdoms? Is that what folk say? How stupid can they be?”

  “Tristan is already a respected figure and Teroux is so Golden he is god-like to strangers. Tianoman is volatile and shows signs of being a great ruler, if purely because he has a knack for shaking things up. Three Vallas, and only one may rule? What of the other two? Surely they would desire rulership? They have been raised up to expect it. You and I know lines will be drawn, but others cannot trust it. Thus rumour feels like truth.”

  She nodded. “If a force is suspected on Sanctuary, someone - like bloody Agnimus - may prepare a countering army.”

  “Chaim investigates the possibility as we speak.”

  “The Kaval, then, are not all looking for Lowen.”

  “It is connected. All intelligence will form a picture Torrullin will use to determine an entrance time.”

  Silence.

  “Saska?”

  She sighed. “It occurred to me how easy it would be for the two of them to stay lost out there.”

  “Torrullin has made promises he intends to keep. He will be back.”

  “Then I wish she stays lost,” Saska muttered. She threw her hands in the air. “Ignore that. He’ll never return to me if she remains missing and I don’t wish that fate on her.”

  They walked on in silence.

  EVENTUALLY THEY ENTERED a chamber with the look of a farmhouse kitchen, one used frequently by the aromas.

  A large central workspace held dishes and fresh vegetables. A woodstove further back had a boiling pot of something extraordinarily aromatic - a meat stew of some kind, said Declan’s nose, and his stomach rumbled. Copper pots and pans hung from hooks, as did bundles of herbs. A large basin and counter contained all manner of clean crockery and cutlery. It was a working kitchen, and welcomed him like a prodigal son.

  Saska grinned at his expression. “Caballa’s special and there’s bound to be enough.”

  “Thank you, Lady Goddess.”

  “She’s probably through there.” Saska pointed out a sunny herb garden beyond the kitchen and beyond that a sitting room beckoned with comfort.

  Declan frowned, squinting. “I thought it
was just the two of you.” He could see far more than one form moving in the sitting room.

  “Initially, yes, but others have come. Lily sent a Minean girl who thinks she may be the future Lady and there is … well, come meet them.”

  He followed her through the herb garden and into the chamber beyond. It was large and there were islands of armchairs. Tall plants in beautiful containers, bright rugs on the stone floor, a massive fireplace, and books. And a scattering of people, mostly women.

  Declan saw Caballa first, and she looked up from a book and smiled.

  “Declan!” She rose to embrace him in welcome.

  He returned her clasp with a laugh. Caballa was another beautiful woman, a Golden in every way. She and Torrullin were close once and he suspected they slept together, but she and Saska got on famously. Perhaps he had it wrong.

  Saska performed introductions and of the women only the Minean stuck in memory, because he could not ignore her dark, whiteless eyes. Iris was her name.

  There were three men, and he remembered them, for they looked each other over, assessing threat.

  One was from Yltri, troll-like as Yltri males were. He was old, no threat, and his name was Gorin. The other was younger, but marginally so, a refugee from Lax. The man’s name slipped his grasp. The third intrigued him. The man was in the prime of his life with long fair hair and blue eyes. He seemed familiar. The man claimed to be a historian, specialising in ancient cultures, and that was interesting. He had to be sure to pick the man’s brain before he left. Now, what was his name? Ah, Sabian, that was it, from …

  “Where do you hail from, Sabian?”

  “I was born on Xen, a toddler on Beacon, had a stint on Fortani, spent long years on Titania and met Igor here on Lax, helped him get out of there. We both ended up staying, but I am sure to be moving on soon. Still much to discover out there.”

  Educated, experienced, and spent long years on Titania? Titania had the largest known library in the entire universe. “You studied at the library?”