Lore of Sanctum Omnibus

by Elaina J Davidson

  Teighlar closed his eyes. One hand splayed across his chest, while the other lifted to rest upon his forehead. When his eyes opened, his hands clenched into fists. These he raised high and then brought down sharply in a gesture of power.

  An expansive stairway appeared before them to wind gracefully into the depression.

  “My basis for erecting a structure able to stand the test of time was not a gemstone of whatever shape and colour,” he said as he set a sandaled foot upon the first step. “It was my blood on a stone. I buried it in the exact centre of the palace foundations. Therefore, the blood sacrifice in the years to come. Therefore Grinwallin’s demands, not so? Except Grinwallin has both, has she not? Blood and gem.”

  He stared for a beat at Torrullin, and then commenced the descent.

  Torrullin threaded hands through hair and released an explosive breath.

  Elianas moved closer. “What is it?”

  “He will uncover something highly relevant … to us. I am afraid of what it is.”

  “Or afraid of his reaction?”

  Torrullin sent him a look. “That too.”

  “Well, as he said, it is already too late. Come, let us face this.” Elianas moved downward.

  After a moment, so did Torrullin.

  Sanctuary

  The Villa

  ROSE STOOD AT A window looking out over Lake Averis.

  Just days ago a mighty fire and earthquake swept through the region west of Lake Altar. Suddenly the earth under her, the soil this villa had its foundations in, seemed spectacularly unsafe.

  She was ready to bolt at the first sign of … something.

  So many dead, she thought. Would more be added to that list? It was more like a list of missing, though, for few bodies were found. Most assumed the town’s folk had fallen into the fissures. They were too deep and unsafe for anyone to descend for a rescue attempt.

  “Rose?”

  Teroux entered the library behind her and she heaved a soft breath. Teroux was hard work. As much as she loved him, sometimes she wished someone else could reach out to his hidden self.

  “All seems quiet out.” She smiled to show she was sharing with him.

  He approached. He was still the Golden young man she fell for, hair, eyes and skin, as fit and groomed as ever, and yet he was also somehow less. She understood now how a personality could hold a man or a woman aloft. It added something special to what was mere flesh and features.

  “I sense activity at the site of the earthquake,” he murmured.

  Even his voice was less. However, she loved him; she would persevere. “Oh? What causes you to think so?” Now she frowned, for to him it meant she asked him to share with her.

  He stared out the window towards the Harken Mountains. “I do not know how to explain it, but I feel … surges? As if I can sense people?”

  Her breath shortened. This was the first direct proof of his inherent power as a Valla. Perhaps if she married his senses to actual sight of visitors to the earthquake zone?

  “Would you like to see if you are right?”

  His tawny gaze landed on her. “Is that possible? They may be gone by the time we get there.”

  He had not yet needed to employ his transport abilities and thus it would not be a cognitive instinct. Maybe he thought they would walk.

  Rose smiled. “It is possible, yes. And we may arrive there within moments if we wish it.”

  “How?” Again he stared out the window.

  “By thinking it. You can do this as well, but, if you prefer, I am able to take us there.”

  He nodded. “I would like you to take us.”

  Rose held her hand out. Whom did he sense at the site of devastation? It did not matter, really, for she sought to jog him into understanding of what he was as well as whom. Perhaps realising he possessed supernatural abilities would hasten forth the healing of his mind.

  He took her hand and she used the contact to transport them through the spaces.

  Chapter 19

  Even a dandelion has a place. It is not a weed to be rooted into extinction; it is a herb with medicinal properties. Do not, therefore, judge too soon. Do your research. Be careful in your deliberation.

  ~ Scroll of Wisdom ~

  Sanctuary

  Netura

  ALEXANDER DILUVAN’S PALACE was of stone and mastery.

  This was a place he built himself? All alone on Orb in the mists of time and he built this? Torrullin shook his head, in awe.

  It was not massive, but it certainly possessed size. There were three lofty storeys, numerous balconies, arches and alcoves. It spread over the landscape as a rectangular edifice with presence. The stone was the grey and blue streaked rock of the region, the roof tiles were green, and wooden doors were of a dark variety of tree, studded with iron. The windows were of lead glass, mostly clear, but with some jade, scarlet and sapphire designs. It possessed a brooding quality and yet it also appeared benevolent.

  “I am impressed, Emperor,” Torrullin said as he halted beside Teighlar near a set of stairs leading to imposing double doors.

  Elianas, on his right, added, “You did this without help, never having built a wall in a field? That is some imagination and will you have there.”

  “Years of toil,” Teighlar whispered. “Broken hands and nails, nearly a broken back. I thought it would kill me.”

  “Instead it gifted you longevity,” Torrullin murmured.

  Teighlar sent him a sideways glance. “Indeed.” He lifted his gaze to the surrounds, and paled markedly. “Look,” he whispered.

  They looked.

  “Aaru,’ Elianas breathed.

  “Fuck,” Torrullin said.

  All sense of canyon, fissure and hole had vanished. The land was pristine and stretched in a meandering descent to a beautiful lake. There were no bridges, no road, no buildings on the island in the lake, no spaceport beyond it.

  “We are back in time,” Elianas stated.

  At that moment two figures materialised in the wildflower field between palace and lake.

  “Fuck,” Torrullin said again. He pinched the bridge of his nose. “When is anything ever smooth?”

  Rose and Teroux had arrived.

  Let the games begin.

  Elianas said it aloud. “Now we dance to a different tune.”

  Clearly, the two new arrivals were astonished by what they found, or one was. Rose gazed around, mouth gaping, confusion clear upon her face. Teroux was expressionless, but they heard him say, “I thought there was an earthquake here.”

  Teighlar drew a breath. “Tell me you know how to get away from this time, Torrullin. I do not want to be back here.”

  Torrullin blinked and made a face. “I need a bit more information before I am able to answer.”

  “Peachy, just peachy,” Elianas muttered.

  Meanwhile Rose, having marked them, approached, and seemed to drag a reluctant Teroux with her by the hand. She came to a halt before Torrullin.

  “What is going on? Where are we?”

  Torrullin, however, had focused his attention on his grandson. The last time he saw him was as a vacuous vessel in the nowhere place Tymall engineered. Tannil had removed his memories, leaving Teroux a husk. That husk returned to Sanctuary without recall of his proclivities, and not even Rose knew the full truth. Torrullin stepped closer to study the Golden young man.

  Tawny eyes glanced at him, fixated, but there appeared no sign of recognition. “Who are you?” he asked.

  “I am Torrullin.”

  Torrullin glanced at Rose, who shook her head slowly. Clearly then Teroux had not yet remembered what brought him to the point of memory loss. He glanced at Elianas to find the man frankly studying Teroux as someone would an insect under a microscope. Elianas had no love for this young man.

  “I am Teroux.”

  Torrullin met the tawny gaze again. “Well met.”

  “Torrullin, what is happening?” Rose demanded.

  “We do not yet know,” Elia
nas murmured. He held his hand out to Teroux. “I am Elianas.”

  As a Valleur, Teroux would usually step into the ritual arm clasp, but he shook Elianas’ hand as humans did. “Well met,” he said.

  Expressionless, Elianas turned away.

  “I am Teighlar,” the Senlu Emperor murmured.

  At least this strange situation had served as a distraction for the latent Alexander Diluvan, Torrullin mused.

  Teroux shook Teighlar’s hand as well and then stood beside Rose.

  Rose suddenly blinked. “The Farspeaker chain is dead.”

  “It was not yet imagined in this time,” Teighlar muttered.

  She jerked to Torrullin. “We are in a realm?”

  Drawing breath, he shook his head.

  “Back in time?” she gasped. “Real past, as in way back?”

  Elianas sighed. “Quite the conundrum.”

  Swearing under his breath, Teighlar headed up the stairs to the wooden doors. “We may as well find a comfortable place to wait in while we figure this out.”

  Torrullin instantly set off after him. “Wait!”

  “What now?” The Senlu came to an abrupt halt.

  “Time here may not be the same as time inside. It may not be the best idea to enter.”

  “Stuff that,” Teighlar growled, and leapt the final two steps to grip the iron handles. He shoved the doors inward …

  … and palace and man vanished.

  Torrullin fell hard to earth suddenly lower than what had been under him. He stared in amazement at the vacated space.

  “What the hell?” Rose shrieked.

  Teroux’s eyes were round. “It’s like magic.”

  “Gods, and now?” Elianas blurted. He paced to Torrullin, holding a hand out.

  “Buggered if I know,” the fair man muttered and used the offered hand to stand. Dusting himself off, he gazed around. “It has not altered the timing, by the looks of it.”

  “Where did he go?” Elianas asked, punctuating his words with an emphatic finger pointed into the emptied space.

  Torrullin shook his head in ignorance.

  Elianas rubbed at the scars on his cheeks. “Every day becomes ever stranger. What do we do? Try and transport somewhere else?”

  “I am staying right here,” Rose stated.

  “With our wings we could have chosen the correct point of exit,” Torrullin said to Elianas, “but now even a Walker of Realms dare not wander far. Can you build a bridge?”

  “Across time? Are you mad?” Elianas snapped.

  “Hold on - the Dome. If you can reach out to it, the …”

  “Hush,” Elianas interrupted, throwing a significant glance at Teroux.

  Right. Do not expose the location of the master mechanism.

  “Maybe, yes,” Elianas said in an undertone. “I shall try. In private.” He raised his voice for the benefit of the other two. “This day wanes. We should find shelter.” He snapped his fingers, testing for creation skills. A wineskin appeared in the grass beside him.

  “Thank the gods,” Rose said.

  “You go for wine first?” Torrullin laughed.

  “A small trick,’ Elianas grinned. “Next I will go for tents and bedding.” He retrieved the skin and drank.

  “We are going to rough it. Oh, lovely,” Rose muttered.

  After looking around with the eye of an army commander, Torrullin pointed. “There. Closer to water, with trees for camouflage and firewood.” It was also more defensible than remaining in the open. “Give me some of that,” said, swiping the wineskin from the dark man. He drank.

  “I am astonished by your lack of anxiety,’ Elianas murmured.

  “We just sidestepped the powerful High King. I am too relieved by that to feel anxious about this.”

  “You still think he would have stepped forth.”

  “Without a doubt.”

  “Where do you think he is?”

  Torrullin grinned. “Grinwallin hopefully. And if he is, he is mighty peeved right now. He wanted to see the inside of his palace despite his protestations.”

  “We should have been with him, then, when he opened the doors,” Elianas frowned.

  “I do not know if Grinwallin is where he went. If he did, the connection is his. Likely we would still have gone nowhere.” Torrullin eyed Elianas. “We are meant to be here. Do you not see it? This is the real manipulation. Time. When we deal with an insane Timekeeper, how not?”

  “And them?” Elianas jerked his head at the pair further afield now as they walked towards the river.

  “It may be part of the manipulation. Perhaps this is when we learn where Teroux’s mind really is.”

  “And maybe they are simply caught in our trap.”

  Torrullin exhaled. “I know.”

  Elianas took the wineskin back. “Camping it is then, until something changes.” Abruptly he laughed. “I am amazed. I am actually looking forward to it. Real nature, real survival instincts.”

  “Says the man who intends to snap his fingers for tents,” Torrullin grinned.

  They set off after husband and wife, laughing together.

  On two thighs two swords bounced, one known, the other an enigma.

  AFTER A RESTLESS NIGHT in two hide tents - one for Rose and Teroux and one for Torrullin and Elianas - morning dawned clear.

  During the night, in private, Elianas had reached out to the clock in the Dome, but it was beyond his grasp.

  A gritty wet beach curved outward from the river’s shoreline. It rained here near the mountains frequently and it never warmed sufficiently to dry the land beside the river.

  Amid scraggly trees at the high point of the beach, Teroux sat before a smoky fire, a fallen trunk his seat. Wood in this region did not dry well either. Hands on knees, he appeared relaxed. From one hand, a twig wiggled and he used it occasionally to prod at the embers.

  They had eaten well the night before via Enchanter magic, creating added staples as a safety measure, but this morning Torrullin said they needed to be careful with magic’s use. He went fishing to add to the stocks they now possessed.

  Rose shook and hung dampened bedding over a makeshift line strung between two trees, away from the smoke. She glanced at Teroux periodically, but did not say anything. Nobody spoke much anyway. The situation was too strange for comfortable conversation.

  The tents sat further back; open to capture errant breezes. Pots hunkered near the waterline, washed and scrubbed of last night’s meal.

  On the edge of this clearing, in line of sight of the fire, Elianas had a fair few logs ready for the night’s cooking. He hankered after coffee and would soon stoke that fire to set water to the boil. Roughing it was one thing; going without coffee quite another.

  He rested, one leg on the chopping log, leaning with a crooked elbow upon it. Sweat coated his torso. Nearby, in an untidy heap, lay the tunic he discarded earlier. The axe stood handle in the air alongside him. Sword and scabbard lay atop his tunic.

  Somewhere beyond the trees, Torrullin had gone for a swim to catch fish. All was quiet, but for intermittent birdsong, the snap of flame, Rose’s shuffles and Elianas’ somewhat laboured breathing. Water lapped with somnolence.

  INTO THIS SEEMINGLY IDYLLIC scene came Torrullin, approaching from beyond Elianas. He was wet and carried boots, tunic and sword in one hand, but no fish. Moving in silence, although not deliberately, rather a habit ingrained from previous outdoor missions, no one heard him, or saw him approach.

  He noticed the dark man from behind first, resting from chopping wood. The stack was quite large already. Elianas, he knew, enjoyed physical exertion. He noted quivering muscles, sweat. His gut lurched and he halted to appreciate the view.

  Torrullin then observed Rose, finished with her self-imposed chore, abruptly come to a halt to study Teroux quizzically. His attention moved immediately to his grandson. If anyone could read Teroux, it was Rose.

  Already Torrullin had marked how Teroux seemed less than before and it had filled him wit
h relief. Elianas did not have to watch his own back every minute, as he Torrullin did not have to run constant interference between them.

  Now there was difference. Teroux, despite appearing relaxed in every way, was clearly tensing inside by slow degrees. His eyes were hooded, but his chin had lifted in order to watch Elianas from under his lids. The twitching twig stopped moving and those fingers seemed to cramp inward.

  A surge of rage overcame him then, and Torrullin quietly set his boots, tunic and sword down to move forward with intent. Was Teroux’s vacuous presence a mere smokescreen? Or were his natural tendencies coming forth? Teroux was attracted to Elianas and it had been the cause of his rage in the past.

  Rose had no idea her husband looked beyond her feminine allure to satisfaction of a different nature, although, to be fair, Teroux had never acted upon his sexual preference, had merely given in to anger in his denial of it.

  Halting behind Elianas, Torrullin casually sneaked an arm forward to rest fingers splayed on the man’s raised thigh, his free hand landing on the man’s sweaty shoulder. He felt the dark man stiffen slightly, then relax when he knew who was behind him. Elianas leaned back marginally to feel Torrullin’s skin on his back.

  “Quite the stack. I will take over; why don’t you go for a swim?” he murmured in the man’s ear. Over Elianas’ shoulder, he watched for Teroux’s response.

  The young man’s face had frozen into a rictus of no expression. In one cheek, in view only because Torrullin was watching carefully, a muscle twitched from the strength of his teeth clenching.

  Torrullin ran fingers along Elianas’ arm. The other moved further up his thigh towards his groin.

  The dark man’s breathing shallowed in reaction. “What are you doing?” he whispered.

  “Drawing him out.”

  Elianas straightened away. “Not wise. And I do not enjoy being the bait.”

  Torrullin ignored him. He stepped closer and tightened his hold on the man’s thigh.

  Teroux’s gaze snapped there.