“Why is that? Why does she throw a tantrum when challenged? Why is she more than stone and time? Why does she react when you are up to something? Pray tell, why does she listen to you?”
Torrullin pushed the man away. “Stop it. You know why. You were there.”
Teighlar smiled sadly. “Tell me again she does not belong to you.”
Torrullin stared over the plains. “Imagination is not everything.”
“Yes, it is. Cities are raised on it and worlds settled and space is traversed in it. Sentience is imagination. It is first, Torrullin, the creator.”
Torrullin did not respond.
“But I would take on your dilemma with Grinwallin any day if I could exchange it for the fruits of my imagination.”
Torrullin’s eyes flickered, but again he said nothing.
Teighlar laughed. “Elixir, the listener. You know what I mean.”
“Do you know?”
“Say a name and memory follows, is that how it works?”
“Sometimes.”
“It worked this time.”
Torrullin held his peace.
“Oh, wise one, you should listen like this to Elianas. I imagined companions, Torrullin, and created a race, and I still lead them today. I am a selfish tyrant.” Teighlar held a hand aloft. “Do not argue with me right now. Listen. In the mists of time there I was alone on an empty world, abandoned by fate and with no means of escape. I did not evolve there; I was overlooked by a pathfinder on its flight out.” He leaned forward. “I was seven years old and alone, utterly alone - do not interrupt.
“I am human, Torrullin, or was once, of the early, long-lived kind, and humans are the epitome of survival against all odds, are they not? I ate off the land, built a shelter, caught animals for skins, but hell, I was lonely. I dreamed of beautiful people coming to my rescue, finding me in my twig hut and saving me, carrying me away to a palace so glorious the sun would pale. I imagined them filled with magic and talent and kindness - utopia.
“Years went by and nobody entered the skies again. I grew tall, I knew every trick a man can know about living in the wild and I was frustrated with my fate. I started to build the palace of my dreams, brick by brick and stone, to have a goal, a way to pass the endless time. It took decades, my friend, many, many decades. I had to learn how to fire bricks, cast mouldings, dig decent foundations and I had to achieve every tiny action by myself.
“And one day I stood before this building not quite as large as I had envisioned, but every inch as beautiful, and I realised I had already lived far beyond the average human lifespan, even that of our early ancestors. That was when it changed. I had wanted to live long enough to create something before death claimed me, and it came to pass. Could I not create companions in the same way, by sheer will, desire and imagination?”
Teighlar paused and Torrullin did not interrupt.
“It took centuries and then one morning I heard a rustle in the tall bushes near the palace …” Teighlar covered his face with his hands and silent sobs shook his body.
Torrullin swallowed. “Were they as you imagined?”
Minutes passed and then the man had control again. He turned to look at Torrullin with reddened eyes.
“They were younglings, a group of them, four girls and two boys, and a set of twins, a boy and girl. The twins approached and said they had ‘grown’ out of the grass and sky and were called to the place that was beautiful. And others kept coming, day after day, week after week, month after month, until that building was inundated with the laughter and tears and shouts and pranks of children and teenagers. They revered me, the old one, the big one, and they called me by my name. For the first time in centuries I heard my name echo through halls and chambers. ‘Alexander, Alexander, come here!’ They named themselves the Diluvans, the children of Alexander Diluvan. And that was how it started.
“I did not have to imagine longer; I could then build on what had become real. Within a century we had four towns and a population of two hundred thousand, and a century later it quadrupled. Then I received the first warning an annihilating flood approached. I saw it in dreams and I felt it in the air, and I was filled with rage. All I had imagined would perish; I took a wife and I had sons and I prepared my people, and still they died. Nothing could prevent the flood and nothing could pluck life from the dead.
“Survivors were few, but we started again and achieved in time what was, and then the next flood was due. That time all knowledge was lost also and it was a long time before we regained even a semblance of the past. Still, the system of kings came about, and so did the means to reincarnation; someone had to survive in some way to protect the knowledge. High King of Orb, indeed, and the Senlu of today have no idea their Emperor is that personage, and they cannot ever know they were created from imagination. We would sunder as a people.”
“You are a formidable Enchanter, my friend. You should be Elixir.”
Teighlar remained silent.
“The Senlu would not sunder, Emperor.”
“Torrullin, no one can imagine souls into being. You tell me how they were ‘grown’ with souls? Who takes the credit for that, or do I explain to my people I was so selfish I created vessels for wandering spirits? Who and what, then, are the Senlu, were the Luvans and the Diluvans before them? How do I explain it? Avert civil strife? No, dump Grinwallin into war, that is what will happen.”
Torrullin pondered that. “I see your point.”
“Where do souls come from, Torrullin. Explain it to me.”
Torrullin rose and paced away.
“You cannot answer, can you?”
“I can answer, but you will not like it.”
Teighlar inclined his head. “You strengthen my point for me already. Tell me.”
Torrullin paced back and hunkered.
“Between planes, parallels and realms are spaces filled with energy and they attract and repel each other simultaneously. Every spark is awareness. Spark is light in dark and awareness is the energy created by that light. It is never random and it learns moment by moment until it becomes, and once it has become, it is. All it needs then is a vessel to open its eyes and see.”
Teighlar stared at him. “Who are the beings I created?”
“They are the magic, talent and kindness you wished for. Nothing is random, my friend.”
Teighlar continued to stare at him. “They were also evil in time.”
“That is the nature of balance.”
Teighlar looked away. “Do not ever again tell me I should have been Elixir. I have not seen the spaces as you have and I may never present an answer to a question one would think has no answer … as you have.”
Torrullin swore. “I have not really answered anything. I have not told you there are too few vessels for every spark that has become. I have not admitted wars are enacted every moment to snatch a vessel first. And I have not told you, once we achieved sentience, we began to create our own sparks, we turned our backs on what happens in the spaces between. Time has changed the rules, Teighlar, and will do so over and over, until an answer is really a question. The Senlu of today are real, as are the Valleur, the humans, Ymirians, all races, so where does that leave the rest of it? Have you ever wondered why one feels so restless in the night or why one stares up and wonders where the stars lead and come from? We sense something is going on and yet we see nothing. There is no answer.”
“You see.”
“No, damn it, I sense.”
“Torrullin, you gave a definitive answer, as if you had seen.”
Torrullin threaded a hand through his hair as he rose. “I have glimpsed only. The rest is logic.”
“Logic? Where is the logic, based on what?”
“Gods.”
Teighlar heaved to his feet. “Answer.”
“My logic is based on instinct. It does not make it right.”
“You believe it is right. Instinct and what, Torrullin?”
Torrullin bit out an oath. “Imagination
.”
Teighlar smiled. “And my point is made. Tell me now to reveal the truth to my people. Imagination made them and, it seems, imagination rules the sparks. It sounds crazy, absolutely insane, and they would rebel against the notion until war is the only answer they can live with.”
“You have a fucking negative attitude, you know that?”
Teighlar snorted. “It takes one to know one.” Then he grinned. “Torrullin, relax, I may claim my true title, but I need more answers. I simply needle you to get you to give up some of the knowledge you carry within. You can be so bloody secretive.”
“It takes one to know one.”
“Yes, it does, does it not? But, my friend, you did right today in saying my name. Doors have opened at last.”
Torrullin’s eyes narrowed. “Doors?”
Teighlar laughed.
Torrullin stepped closer. “Explain this, Emperor. In the mists of time, right? You were abandoned by a pathfinder?”
Teighlar’s face closed over. “What are you asking?”
Torrullin’s eyes narrowed further. “I think I am asking a question to which one should not expect an answer - am I right?”
“I have no idea what you mean.”
“Yes, you do. I believe you were alone on Orb and you imagined a people into being, and I believe you lengthened your life by will and tenacity, and I even believe you discovered the secrets to reincarnation and magic simply by wishing it long enough; there are precedents, after all, and others will do so in the future. But I do not believe pathfinders were imagined in the mists of time. Technology, my friend, came much, much later.”
Teighlar nodded sagely. “Seems you got me there.”
Torrullin stared at him and then laughed. “You are not going to tell me the truth.”
“I do not know the real truth, not yet.”
Torrullin frowned. “I don’t believe you.” He studied the man before him. “But tell me in your own time. Who am I to judge? I am going down.”
“You are angry.”
“The only one I am angry with right now is Elianas. And you have enough to come to terms with without worrying about my reactions. Come, it is getting late and we have a long walk ahead.”
“Transport.”
“I cannot; Elianas’ barriers prevent me.”
“Clever of him. Go on ahead; I need a few minutes.”
Torrullin nodded and walked away.
Teighlar sank back into a seated position and sat that way for hours.
“… SEVEN TIMES BORN ONLY on this timeline, Torrullin,” Elianas said as Teighlar wandered into Torrullin’s study in search of the two men.
Obviously they discussed what was said on the mountain.
Teighlar sauntered closer. “Interesting. Torrullin has only had seven, while I think I have done it a few times more. Where is the difference, if his ‘loop of time’ isn’t the answer?”
Elianas shifted in his seat before the desk and Torrullin made a face and leaned back in his chair.
Both scrutinized him before Elianas said, “The difference lies in the state you were in when you reached for the first reincarnation. You wanted longevity, a kind of immortality when you sought rebirth; Torrullin was already immortal when he did so.”
Teighlar considered and then nodded. “It has logic.”
“Lowen did the same, if accidentally. She achieved immortality before she delved the realms and emerged a true immortal. Lowen, however, has been fortunate in that she was given a choice. She was very brave.”
“You mean I was a coward in not choosing as she did,” Torrullin snapped.
Elianas turned from Teighlar to Torrullin. “Neither of us has the option.”
“We had it right there in the gatekeeper grotto, Elianas. Eternal life or death.”
“You had the choice.”
Torrullin looked at him with glittering eyes. “And because you did not, I had no option, right?”
“There you go, blaming me for your choices.”
Torrullin shifted his attention to Teighlar and away from that dangerous quagmire. “Are you hungry?”
The man grinned. “Positively starving.”
Torrullin laughed and stood. “Let us eat.” He rounded the desk and headed out with the Emperor.
Elianas sat on a while longer and then sighed and got up to follow them. As he turned into the passage he found Torrullin waiting, with Teighlar nowhere in sight. He froze.
Torrullin stood in silence, watching him.
Elianas raised a mocking eyebrow.
Torrullin reached out to finger the man’s dark hair deliberately and when Elianas moved away, he laughed. “I wonder what is flapping on inside that head.” He let go and whispered, “Do not sleep, my brother, for I aim to invade your dreams to find out.”
He smiled again and turned on his heel and walked away.
Elianas shuddered and followed.
Chapter 17
Forgetting is also difficult to overcome. A state not only physical, but emotional, and it is emotion that creates the greatest obstacle.
~ Book of Sages ~
Avaelyn
ELIANAS MOVED QUIETLY.
He gathered pillow and cover and padded through Torrullin’s bed chamber on bare feet. The man breathed rhythmically and he thanked the gods for that oblivion, yet still he was cautious. He moved with stealth all the way to his own study beyond the atrium entrance, it being as far away as possible from temptation and strife as he could get at night.
Once there, he began to relax and made a bed on the low couch before the fireplace.
Then he could not sleep. Torrullin’s warning continually reverberated through his mind, driving sleep and the need for it away. He rose with an oath and wandered over to his desk. He stared down at the document he was working on and noticed the worthless scribbles he doodled there when Torrullin diverted his attention.
Gods, the man was in his head. He took up the piece of paper and scrunched the offending article into a tight ball and tossed it across the room.
Fury took hold.
He had had enough of pussyfooting around that massive ego.
Elianas marched from his study all the way back to Torrullin’s bedchamber and leaned over the sleeping form. He gripped him two-handed by the shoulders and shook him awake. When Torrullin began to fight, he dropped him unceremoniously.
“Get the fuck up.”
A moment of stillness ensued before Torrullin laughed in a low voice. “Excellent; I seem to have rattled you beyond endurance.”
“Shut up. I have something to show you.”
Torrullin was silent a time and then he was on his feet.
Elianas took one look at him in the shadows and turned away. “Get dressed.”
Torrullin again said not a word, finding breeches and tunic in the dark and dragging them on.
“Come with me.”
Elianas strode out. Fury drove him through the kitchen and out the rounded arch that led into the herb garden. Fury sustained him along those paths and into the excavation in the cliff-face rising sheer on that side of the dwelling. He did not check once to see whether Torrullin followed; he knew the man’s ego and curiosity would keep him coming.
The excavation was rough and they utilised the space for storage and utensils, tools and the like. It had no light and Elianas conjured a globe, which he tossed into the raftered ceiling with a snarl. It shattered and shards of light scattered over the space, but it did not go out.
He gripped Torrullin by his tunic and hauled him around a stack of crates. There he tossed him aside. “Open that crate.”
By then Torrullin had lost the sense of brinkmanship that generally drove him when Elianas was around. “What are you up to?”
“Open it and open your eyes.”
“Why now?”
Elianas paced closer. “Because I am not having my dreams invaded. You want an answer, there it is.”
“What is the question, Elianas?”
The dar
k man paced closer still. “What is Lorinin.” He said it as a statement.
Torrullin jerked to the crate Elianas indicated. “In that?”
Elianas smiled challenge.
Torrullin stepped back. “Not a fuck am I opening that.”
“Oh, really? Do you prefer your ignorance, then? Do you prefer taunting me to the point of breaking? Torrullin, I shall release every barrier if you open that. I dare you.”
Torrullin snarled and smashed the crate.
He stared down and paled. “There is nothing in there.”
Elianas gripped him anew and smashed him against the rough rock wall. “Because there is nothing in your quest, Torrullin! You already know what you need to know!” He pulled him forward and smashed him against the wall again. “How can you be so stubborn? You, the brave Elixir, the one who goes where angels fear to tread? Why do you choose your blindness? Why must I pay for it? When did I become your enemy?”
With a sound of disgust, Elianas tossed him a final time and backed away heaving.
Torrullin pushed from the wall. “Theatrics do not suit you.”
“That is all you can say?” Elianas whispered. “You stupid man.” He pointed a shaking finger. “I am not playing any more. I release you to do your worst. Have it all your way. I am done.”
With a contemptuous look, he strode from that space.
TORRULLIN STARED DOWN AT the ruined crate and then at the shattered light.
There were messages in the destruction, he knew, but he would not give Elianas the satisfaction of setting out to find them. He swore and restored the crate and light, extinguished the globe and left the cavern.
As he entered the fragrant herb garden, he sensed a shiver in the air and realised Elianas was as good as his word; he was undoing the barriers. His heart thumped and he ran.
He skidded into the man’s study. “Stop!”
Elianas, with unfathomable dark eyes, stared at him.
“Do not undo anything.”
Elianas made no move.
“Keep me here with you, Elianas, for god’s sake. Do not let me go now.”
There was no reaction.
Lore of Sanctum Omnibus Page 144
