“Who was born to Millanu? Is she my mother?”
“Yes.”
“How?” Torrullin cried out.
Elianas was sombre. “That is the moment your sentience entered, have no doubt. Millanu is your mother and Taranis is your father. You are Ancient, because that was not the first entry and it may not be the last. You are not reincarnate through your parents; you close the circle and reopen it at that point.” Elianas leaned forward. “Every time you hope you will make new choices.”
“How many circles? Have I made new choices?”
Elianas chose to answer the latter. “Yes, every time.”
“I do not understand.”
“It is beyond even you, that understanding. It simply is.”
“Do they know? Taranis and Millanu?”
“No one knows. For them time is linear. The exceptions are those of us who were there with you. Quilla came in the last cycle, as did Sabian, and Teighlar found the connection a little later. You have known Sabian in another form, but Teighlar and Quilla entered your orbit at the points you are aware of. They, however, retain the years between and could soon put certain truths together.”
Torrullin blinked. “Such as?”
“Who Torrullin was, is and will be.”
Silence settled in for a few beats. “And you, Elianas?”
“I am a mite different. Telling you now, tells too much.”
Torrullin stared over the ocean. “Tell me then why the others have come.”
“Saska is here for you, and seeks a way to negate Lowen.”
“She has not a hope now.”
“What happened with the Xenian woman was a product of grief, not anger. Saska did not intentionally murder an unborn child; she merely could not cope. No one coped well. You must let it go.”
“I cannot understand you. Why drive me back to her?”
“You are the one who does not understand. I would be insane already if I marked every woman you slept with, every child you fathered and every wife you loved. Between us lies the thought, the idea, the danger, the twisting knife of a relationship that has not come to pass, and will not. It is enough that we know. I am not jealous of Saska or Lowen. You and I would make what we have ordinary if we slept together.”
Torrullin’s eyes glittered. “You lie.”
Elianas looked away. “And you push too hard.” Eventually Elianas took up his narrative again. “Caballa had a vision she cannot ignore. She is also caught between what she had and what she wants. This dilemma has more to do with the return of her sight than uncertainty. Had she remained blind she would already be in Tristan’s arms; seeing him and seeing you has confused her.”
“That makes sense,” Torrullin nodded.
“Quilla is self-evident. He is a creature of prophecy and, without doubt, has a few to see fulfilled about this. The one unearthed in Titania has added impetus to his curiosity. I am not saying curiosity drives him, but it is a factor. Quilla will ever be insatiable for knowledge.”
Torrullin smiled.
Elianas continued. “Rose? A child and a woman, one who has been hurt in a manner you and I cannot understand. She is both innocent and wise, wants to be a better person and also the worst kind. She seeks to find herself. Teroux is taken with her and may even change her.” Elianas paused. “As for Teroux. He is a follower, not a leader. Had the Throne made proper choice, it would not be Teroux.”
“Which means Tianoman will be Vallorin, given Tristan’s choice.”
“Probably.”
“What is Teroux doing here?”
“Following, Torrullin. You commanded and he obeyed.”
“What is he looking for?”
“He has little ambition,” Elianas shrugged. “Perhaps that changes here.”
“Tian?”
“A hothead, a rebel, one who would be a great Vallorin if properly tempered. Tianoman needs to see himself as an adult and this journey will certainly gift him greater maturity.”
“You read people well,” Torrullin remarked.
“I watched and listened a long time.”
“When I called the Throne, was I calling you?”
Elianas smiled.
“Thought so,” Torrullin murmured. “You spoke to me out of turn also.”
“There were a few occasions when it felt as if you would surrender to despair. Support was all I could offer.”
“Elianas, I dreamed you, heard you, saw you, before I knew any of this. It was not support, brother; it confused the hell out of me.”
“That was not my intention.” Another beat went by, and then Elianas went on, “Maple is easy. He wants to be rid of Digilan.”
“And Sabian?”
“Exactly as he says. Immortality.”
“Was I a true immortal in other cycles?”
“No, but death closed in a few times. I assume you opted to put that temptation beyond reach in the present cycle.”
“Assume?” Torrullin snorted.
“What goes on in that head of yours remains a mystery even to me.” Elianas laughed. “What goes on in my head remains a mystery to you.”
“What of Declan?” Torrullin prompted, smiling.
“A true soul. I cannot read him. Then there is Tristan, isn’t there? Tristan and immortality.”
Torrullin nodded. “The Ritual will demand strength of purpose from him, and that he receives here.”
“Did you know?”
Torrullin barked a laugh. “Not the faintest suspicion.”
“How do you feel about it?”
“Proud. Relieved.”
Elianas understood. A grandson who would not now die when his time was up. For Torrullin it signified a tangible future, someone to go through time with.
“Will he succeed? I believe so. One member of this team will attain goal,” Elianas smiled. “That leaves us. Why are we doing this?” Elianas laughed. “I am not yet ready.”
A hooded glance. “Neither am I.”
They stared out in different directions. The ocean was akin to a lake in its quiet rippling. Impatience would soon arise.
“Elianas.”
A slow head turn.
“How did I forget?”
“Deliberately.”
Torrullin nodded. “Did you agree?”
A look of pain crossed the dark features. “No, not at first.”
“I hurt you.”
“No, the hurt was mine. I did not understand then you were fragmenting, and forgetting was a way to restore wholeness. When you arose from the ashes of the person you were and I saw you were again one, I found the patience I would need.”
“I am fragmenting now.”
“I know,” Elianas whispered, and there was a look of terror on his face.
“It follows I am to forget again.”
Elianas slumped forward. “Why do you have to be so clever?”
“Or I must rise above it.”
Elianas looked up.
Torrullin stated, “I do not want to forget. I want to remember everything, always.”
Hope was born in those dark eyes. “You are different.”
THE DAY WORE ON, unchanging.
As the heat intensified Torrullin created a canopy for shade and they rested in the bottom of the rudimentary vessel, both soon rocked to sleep.
Awakened as the sun began to dip below the horizon, they were thirsty and sweaty. Elianas dipped over the side first and then Torrullin took a turn.
As night came, so did cold, but their clothes dried before and they rocked on more comfortably under a starry sky. The heavens were strange with unknown constellations and no focal point to denote sense of place. They ate and slept more.
A squall in the early hours brought rude awareness and they huddled for warmth. At no time were they concerned for their safety. The squall barely moved the boat.
Morning came and with it change.
On the horizon a mighty cliff land loomed, hazy and dark in the distance.
Yet, yet, it w
as a place known to Torrullin and Elianas.
In the deepest recesses, in dreams, in wishes, this place was home.
Chapter 50
And then there was civilisation …
~ Awl
Time Realm
PARCHED EARTH REVERTED TO wildflowers as the majority of the team headed west, and green fields followed, followed in turn by a land of rolling hills and meandering streams.
There was no sign of habitation.
Rose remarked on this and Quilla gave the reply. “We are walking in a time before sentient life spread far. We may see no one until the end of this journey.”
“Who?”
“Valleur. Nemisin.”
“I’m not sure I like it,” Tristan murmured.
“Good, then you will be cautious,” Teighlar said. “None of us know exactly what lies ahead.”
The heat left with the changing landscape and they walked on with greater ease. Rest, eat, walk, sleep. As night came they made camp on the banks of a wide river and Maple caught a fish. They slept well. Exhaustion played a part in it, but also a sense of security. Other than a distant threat from the heavens, there seemed to be no danger anywhere.
Morning was fresh and breezy and smelled of spring. After the first minutes they were warm enough to enjoy the scenery. They halted at midday under a gigantic tree and jested a bit. It was as if Torrullin’s absence freed them. They went on and the path began to steepen. By evening a series of ridges lay ahead, although none appeared insurmountable.
Teighlar called a halt before they strained to see in the dark.
That night, beside a roaring fire, Teighlar was voluble. “This is my first excursion. I was born in Grinwallin Mountain, I grew up in the city and I hiked the plateau and mountains to the east. I was crowned on the great plateau and I wed and sired my children in the royal apartments. Besides a brief foray into Tunin hinterland, I have been exactly nowhere.”
Even Sabian said not a word.
Teighlar laughed. “Hard to believe, not so? True, though. I organised the bringing together of clans and tribes from Grinwallin and I made my city a haven without ever leaving. I fought wars on her streets and I unleashed evil upon her from the Great Hall. And then I wandered her alone for a long time. Funny, isn’t it? When I had freedom I stayed, and when I lost freedom I needed to stay. Now I am still bound and yet the notion of a journey has not overly eaten away at me.”
“This journey has not taken you away,” Quilla murmured.
“A contradiction, if ever there was one. This is the mother of all journeys and yet Grinwallin knows I have not left.”
“Surely as an Ancient you travelled?” Tianoman said.
“No doubt I did, but I do not recall.”
“My Lord?” Dechend said.
“Torrullin is not the only one who cannot remember, Dechend. I know I am High King of Orb because he told me so, and, yes, I feel it. I feel also the vibrations within Grinwallin and I heard the singing stones, but I do not actually remember. At this point my mind is the Teighlar born, raised, died and reborn to Grinwallin.” He looked at Quilla. “The portrait of Tunian is the closest I have come to feeling something beyond known recall.”
“Yet you know of the Diluvan massacre.”
“The stones. And they ceased when Torrullin came.”
“It makes a kind of sense, I suppose,” Maple murmured.
Teighlar eyed him. “How so?”
“You and Torrullin, each the figurehead of the two races involved in this redress. Had you both known everything, you would not be friends and would not now seek a peaceful solution.”
“A point well made,” Quilla said.
Teighlar nodded. “I see that, yes.”
“Does Torrullin?” Saska murmured.
“If he does not, he will,” Quilla said. “One cannot accuse the Enchanter of stupidity.”
Tianoman leaned forward. “Why do you do that? Call him Enchanter?”
“He is.”
“He is more now.”
“I know, but to me he is the Enchanter,” Quilla said.
“To me he has become Dragon,” Teighlar muttered. “Wherever I go the bloody dragon symbol assails me.”
“Elixir,” Declan said. “And friend.”
“Errant husband,” Saska muttered.
An uncomfortable silence followed.
“I wonder what will happen when we remember?” Teighlar gazed at the faces surrounding the fire as if seeking an answer there. “Will that sunder friendship?”
“It is an ancient crime. Why should it?” Maple suggested.
“But I was there and he was there and we were on opposite sides. I wonder.”
“The awareness of danger is sufficient to stem an impulsive act, my friend,” Quilla murmured.
“I hope so, Quilla. Torrullin admitted he might have to let the crime stand - not to change the future, he said.”
“That is not the idea I got,” Teroux blurted.
“That would be true if this was a parallel or our reality’s past,” Sabian said. “We are in neither and thus tweaking will not affect the future. Both of you can walk away from this contented with the solution.”
“It will affect the future,” Tristan murmured, “or this whole thing is moot.”
“Resonance, young Valla,” Sabian remarked, “is not quite the same as complete change. This is the safest place to do what we are here for.”
“How did Lowen figure it out, I wonder?” Teroux mused. He received a look from Saska.
“Lowen is a seer,” Caballa said.
“She went to Titania also. Somehow she put vision and academics together,” Dechend added. “And being a true immortal like Torrullin she …”
“What did you say?” Saska hissed.
Utter silence descended, which only Declan dared breach. “I thought you knew.”
“Gods, now I finally get it,” she muttered, and clamped her mouth shut.
She said nothing further and was still wordless the next morning.
THEY ASCENDED AND DESCENDED four ridges the next day, and by nightfall were exhausted.
Sleep was fitful.
During the day premonition of change steadily increased and they understood morning would bring something different.
INDEED, IT WAS DIFFERENT.
Upon ascending the next ridge it smashed down upon them. Change, in full colour and glory.
“Sweet gods,” Tianoman breathed.
Sabian whispered, “Not in a million years did I expect this.”
Before them lay a city, a city of white and silver, with towers and spires reaching up to the heavens, a city beautiful, graceful, inspiring and fantastical.
An impossible city.
A vision.
“Who built this?” Teroux murmured in awe.
Teighlar inhaled erratically. “Only one way to find out.” He started downhill.
The others followed, struck dumb.
The city appeared close from the ridge, but that was a feature of its size. It was a metropolis of gigantic proportions and laid many sals removed. Green farmland surrounded it interlaced with fresh streams and a fair number of lakes. Trees were old and majestic, and everything was still.
“It is deserted,” Quilla breathed.
“Waiting,” Declan remarked.
They closed in, slowing as they neared.
There were no walls, no gates, no guard posts and no battlements. It was a city that had not required that kind of protection. Farmland lanes became roads, flat, straight and stone, and all roads led into one broad thoroughfare that passed between small, pretty cottages and even prettier gardens on the outskirts, to bigger edifices that had the feeling of hostelry and stables, and then led into the heart of a mighty centre.
Here the buildings were impossibly high and beautiful beyond all measure. Set amid park-like landscapes, they were a testament to imagination, talent and superb creation. Glass, silvery metal and white stone shone in the ambient light a city of
skyscrapers brought upon itself.
“This is a city of an empire,” Tristan breathed. “My god, it’s fantastic.”
“Everything appears new and fresh. How can there be no one here?” Tianoman whispered.
Teighlar wandered over to a nearby building and craned his head up. Far away the blue of sky was visible. He looked down, touched the wall, felt warmth and vibration. “The stone moves,” he said, as awed as the others.
Sabian wandered over to touch. “Either technology or sorcery. That is why it is whole. This is an ancient city, ancient even for the Dancing Suns.”
Quilla turned round and around, searching for clues. There were none. “I believe we need tarry here awhile.”
Teighlar agreed. “I shall wonder eternally if we do not.”
Maple pointed. “That door is ajar. Do you think it welcomes us?”
The door had been closed, and now it was open.
“Now that scares me,” Rose murmured.
“Yes,” Saska murmured.
Teighlar headed over and drew the door wide - it was of glass and metal - and entered. A moment later he was out again.
“Food, water, facilities. I think we are being welcomed.”
He went back in and the others followed.
White walls, grey floor, blue ceiling. Corners were round and lights were square. An entrance hall led to a dining area where food and drink was on display. Beyond, a sign denoted ablution facilities.
“Smacks of a trap,” Rose said.
Quilla studied everything with sharp eyes. “No, this place is automated. This is high-technology.”
Maple murmured, “Such technology requires a power source. That could be the source of the vibration in the walls.”
Caballa approached the food. Everything was perfect down to small, folded napkins. “Some technology. This is magic.”
Saska peeked into the bathroom. “Lordy, Caballa, look at this …” She vanished within.
Caballa followed and a moment after that Rose disappeared also. Women and bathrooms, never long parted.
TEIGHLAR FACED THE MEN. “What do you think?”
“Snoop,” Tianoman said.
Sabian laughed. “Right on! Let us do it.” He grabbed a plate, filled it with one of everything - vegetables through meat, fish and all between - and set off up a short set of stairs, eating as he went.
Lore of Sanctum Omnibus Page 51
