Lore of Sanctum Omnibus

by Elaina J Davidson

  “The Ornate Atrium, lord.” The man bowed again. “May the Plains accompany you on your journey.”

  “Always, friend.” Elianas touched his forehead and moved on.

  Torrullin and Lowen both touched their foreheads in like fashion and fell in behind Elianas.

  THEY CONTINUED ALONG THE verge of the highway, for now traffic was in evidence, strange little pods that zipped around noiselessly.

  “Achen Plains?” Torrullin questioned after a time.

  “An inspired reason for our ignorance,” Elianas responded. “Far north of here there is a great plain, which is in fact a vast caldera of a long extinct volcano. Outsiders who refused to mix with the locals gravitated there; occasional under earth rumbles meant the region remained not only uninhabited but also entirely avoided. There is a legend about Daywalkers naming it as a place for the gods.”

  “Which is why he treated you as something akin to royalty.”

  “It worked.”

  “I agree, and we should foster the impression. It may open other doors.” Torrullin said.

  “Are there many outsiders on that plain? Is it the kind of place this Immirin may be found?” Lowen asked.

  “I hope not. It would be a bloody long walk,” Elianas muttered.

  “So we transport.”

  Elianas grinned over his shoulder. “It does not work here.”

  Torrullin swore under his breath.

  “Then we fly,” Lowen said.

  Both men halted instantly. “No, Lowen,” Elianas snapped.

  “Explain to me why flight is dangerous here.”

  “The action isn’t dangerous; it is the potential result to Kathin Arne atmosphere.”

  “What happens?”

  Torrullin said, “Whenever Shadow Wings deploy there is a knock on effect, does not matter where or for how long. Given what we’ve experienced since arrival, here I would guess wings alter the elements in the air. It may create more density, which will suffocate fragile growth …”

  “… or lighten it to the degree folk on the ground cannot breathe. From a scientific viewpoint, it’s impossible, but this is about more than science,” Elianas added. He swallowed convulsively. “Not long after I came here, there was a scramble for a rare element they required to pump into the atmosphere, to halt the slow leak of breathable air, they said.” He inhaled sharply. “I did not at the time realise I flew in. Now I understand what happened. And that rare element? There is no more of it. Do not unfurl your Wings.”

  Lowen nodded. “I swear.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Logic tells me Immirin had to have created the need for a Daywalker,” Torrullin mused. “Back in ancient time. She changed Kathin Arne accidentally. Her entry, a powerful bloody Valleur from a time when magic was untamed and ungoverned, upset the balance. She upset it to such a degree it still needs careful watching, therefore the Daywalker.”

  “No doubt she introduced the Lady of Life concept as a measure to appease the locals, or it was a need for her own survival,” Elianas reasoned. “Chances are, she released the sorcery that enables the calling. Those with certain magical traits will hear it, even now.”

  “The Valleur ever create havoc,” Lowen muttered.

  Torrullin sighed. “No argument.”

  “Or is it your legacies that create havoc, Torrullin?”

  Elianas glared at her. “Immirin is from before Torrullin. Not everything is his fault.”

  She winked at him.

  Torrullin laughed. “What is this Ornate Atrium? I am having visions of a giant birdcage.”

  Elianas grinned. “You are not far off.” He gazed around. “We need somehow secure a ride or we walk for the next three days to get to it.”

  “Taxi, is it?” Lowen said, and stepped into the road. Lifting two fingers to her mouth, she released an almighty whistle.

  Within ten seconds, a pod swirled to a halt alongside them, doors swishing upward to allow ingress.

  “That is how you call for a taxi, does not matter where you are.” She grinned and climbed in.

  THE ISSUE OF PAYMENT, once deposited outside of something that did indeed look like a giant birdcage, was no trifling matter, apparently.

  The driver - maroon hair of a lighter shade - went into a tirade when he realised his passengers possessed no coin.

  A young, slender woman entered the fray from the pavement nearby, an Arness. “Where are you from?”

  “Achen Plains,” Elianas said.

  Her brown eyes widened as the Katlin’s had on the outskirts, and then she touched her forehead. “Allow me to pay your fare,” she murmured, and promptly did so.

  The vehicle sped away moments later. Unfortunately it did not possess the kind of noisy engine to make an audible statement. Lowen laughed under her breath.

  “Thank you,” Elianas murmured.

  “Are you here to visit with Sarahin?” the woman asked, tucking lilac hair behind one ear. In normal light, she would no doubt be fair.

  “We are,” Torrullin said.

  “Then you are in luck, for I am her personal assistant. My name is Marjori. Please follow me.” She stepped up to massive wrought iron gates and opened them, striding thereafter up a paved path. “Close them behind you!” she called back.

  They did so and followed with alacrity.

  Up a flight of marble steps - white, but appearing green in Kathin Arne light - they hastened, and through a grillwork door.

  Inside, an enormous transparent dome was supported by fancy metalwork, and creepers clambered up the posts. Birds flitted in the great space, of varied sizes.

  In appearance and in fact it was a birdcage, but it also hosted row upon row of glorious shrubbery. Here the foliage was a more natural green, which might have something to do with the tinting inherent in the glass. Fantastical flowers gave off heady scents. Tiny hummingbirds hovered in ecstasy before many blooms. The Ornate Atrium was thus a conservatory also.

  Beautifully designed metal stairs led to a suspended suite of chambers, all of glass, although reed blinds were lowered here and there for privacy.

  This, according to Marjori - her hair was indeed fair in this light - was Sarahin’s apartment and she chose it in order to be close to the shrubbery in the Atrium. Here she was able to directly keep watch on the natural world, for every root and tree of Kathin Arne was present. Sarahin regarded her duties seriously.

  Why Marjori felt she needed to underscore the Daywalker’s dedication was a mystery, unless it had something to do with what city dwellers thought of those resident upon the Achen Plains.

  As Marjori hastened up the stairs, another young woman left the suite to stand there waiting. “They are from the Achen Plains, my Lady,” Marjori said, “and seek audience.”

  Elianas stumbled to a halt on the stairs. “Hunarial?” he whispered.

  Bright green eyes speared him.

  “Hunarial was my grandmother … oh!” She lifted a hand to her cheek. “Elianas?”

  Chapter 29

  Looking away in order not to see, to claim innocence in the aftermath, is still regarded as deceit.

  ~ Awl ~

  Grinwallin

  QUILLA ALIGHTED BEFORE the many arches of the Great Hall. Gazing inquisitively around him upon noticing the level of activity, melancholy overcame him. Clearly Grinwallin was in war mode, for there were soldiers everywhere.

  “Come to spy for the Valleur, birdman?”

  Quilla snapped around to see Teighlar leaning against a nearby pillar, arms folded.

  “You insult me,” Quilla said.

  “Oh, I do not think you do so deliberately,” the Emperor drawled, “but if they ask about conditions here, you will tell them.”

  “Only because I do not lie,” Quilla responded.

  “Why have you come?”

  The birdman studied the man leaning there somehow imparting threat merely by his presence. It was Teighlar in form, yes, but the man was a coiled spring. He lifted his gaze to that aesthetic
face and then swiftly looked away. It was not Teighlar; this was Alexander.

  “I hoped to speak with your Elders about history.”

  Alexander pushed away from the pillar, flexing his fingers. “Our history or the Valleur epic?”

  “Both,” Quilla murmured.

  “The Elders are already in conclave about the very state. It seems they decided to do what the Valleur did.”

  “Where are they gathered? I may be of some use to them.”

  “In the Crucible Chamber, but you are not needed, Quilla.”

  Quilla bowed his head. “Majesty, I do beg to differ. Sometimes truth requires objectivity.”

  A feral smile took possession of Alexander’s face. “Ever the diplomat, are you not?”

  The birdman threw tiny hands into the air. “Have you all gone mad? Is this justice, High King, or vengeance? How will either now change the past?”

  The man stepped closer. “I entered my original palace, birdman, thinking the others were with me, but no, the doors closed behind me and I was alone. Wandering through empty halls and passages, I heard all those voices from the past calling to me, demanding from me a voice in this present. I saw then the waters come and drown everything, and how we started over when the land dried out again. And then, Quilla, the Valleur came and I saw how my people died.”

  “How could you see?’ Quilla whispered. “You were on a biological ship bound for Luvanor when the Valleur came to Orb.”

  “No! Tunian was on his way to Luvanor, but his father remained behind. Me, Quilla, the last High King of Orb. Generations later I again opened my eyes on the plateau, before Grinwallin was built. I knew all, remembered every horror, but time subjugated most of it until Teighlar understood only academically a crime was committed. Today every horror is fresh, every cry for help rings in my ears. Do I seek justice? Perhaps not, for it is too late. Vengeance? Even that is a fool’s hope.”

  “What then?” Quilla murmured.

  Alexander was then silent, staring out into the glorious view of Tunin. “He needs to understand.”

  “Torrullin?”

  “Yes.”

  “I believe he already does.”

  “Torrullin made peace with Teighlar. Torrullin needs to make peace with me.”

  Quilla peered up. “Torrullin is no fool, my friend. He knows this is what you seek and he will not give it to you. Do you not see it? He will not jeopardise Grinwallin’s integrity; he will not sunder a friendship.”

  “We shall see. Go. Speak with the Elders.” Turning on his heel, Alexander strode away.

  WHEN QUILLA REACHED THE Crucible Chamber deep within Grinwallin Mountain, it was to discover only silence.

  The magical space was entirely deserted. Had the High King played a trick on him?

  “They were so shocked,” a voice whispered from the opposite triangular doorway, the one leading deeper in. “So shocked, they chose to enter the Meditation Room.”

  Dechend.

  Quilla drew breath. “I did not realise something lay beyond this chamber.”

  Dechend waved at the exit behind him. “It is not hidden, but few know of it or go there. Why are you here, Quilla?”

  “I thought to help.”

  The Senlu shrugged. “They must now help themselves.”

  “Then I need to ask a favour of you.”

  “Ask. If it is in my power, I shall help.”

  “I require the Lumin Sword.”

  “It is not in my power to gift it to you.”

  “Open the crucible, Dechend, and I shall remove it.”

  The Elder closed his eyes. “Why do you need it?”

  “Torrullin needs it to dump the Timekeeper back where he belongs.”

  Dechend blinked. “Will it work?”

  The birdman sighed. “To date it is the simplest solution and it will work if Torrullin is able to lure that creature into an arena where he can deploy the sword.”

  “Will it end hostilities here if the Timekeeper vanishes?”

  “I hope so,” Quilla murmured.

  Dechend nodded and headed to the usual exit. “I believe my hand will accidently brush over the circle that lifts the crucible as I leave this space. What happens next is thus beyond my control.”

  “Bless you,” Quilla murmured, and watched as the Elder lifted a hand to a magical dot on his way out. Dechend did not look back.

  Swiftly Quilla reached in and withdrew what he needed.

  Hastily then, he vacated Grinwallin in its entirety.

  Sanctuary

  The Villa

  “BOY, WHERE ARE YOU?”

  Teroux cowered into his upholstered armchair in the library, wondering whether to reply or to ignore the summons. Quickly he realised he no longer possessed free will, because whatever he chose to do or not do, the man would find him.

  Rivalen had come to him. It meant there was purpose behind the visit.

  “I am in the library,” he said.

  “Nice place,” Rivalen said as he entered.

  Teroux stared up in terror. Who was this creature?

  “My true form, Teroux Valla.”

  An imposing man with a face filled with shadows. He was not near Tannil in appearance. By all gods, Torrullin had been right all along. He, Teroux, had suspected the man who exited the crucible in Nowhere was not his father, but had hoped for it, and the mere ability to look upon a visage long missed had duped him into denial also.

  “I frighten you?”

  Teroux could only nod once, his eyes wide, cold shivers assailing every inch of his flesh.

  “Good. Imagine then how afraid everyone else is.” Rivalen offered a feral grin.

  “Wh-what do you want?”

  The giant stood arms akimbo before him. “There is something different about you. What have you done, boy?”

  Teroux’s gaze slid sideways. “Nothing.”

  “That is the truth, at least,” Rivalen muttered. “Someone did something to you, then.” He gripped Teroux’s chin and forced the younger man to face him, squeezing gloved fingers into Golden flesh. “Look at me. Don’t you understand yet that you cannot hide anything?”

  A faint blue spark raced across Teroux’s cheek, tracking along a rivulet of sweat seeping down from his hairline.

  Rivalen jerked his head away. “He bound you to him? How stupid are you?”

  Tawny eyes stared up.

  Rivalen, after a moment, laughed softly. “But, of course, such a state suits you, doesn’t it? You are now connected to the one you desire.” He frowned next, a horrifying sight. “Why would he do this? It cannot be a situation he will be comfortable with.”

  Teroux closed his eyes and lowered his chin to his chest. Smacking his palms together, causing Teroux to flinch, the big man paced the perimeter of the library. Carefully, Teroux raised his head to watch, to see the man glaring at almost empty bookshelves as he wandered around.

  “Torrullin asked for his books,” he dared. “I haven’t yet replaced them.”

  Snorting, Rivalen halted. “This was Torrullin’s home?”

  “Once, yes.”

  “Did Elianas live here?”

  Teroux shook his head.

  Moving to the massive picture window, Rivalen stared out across the expanse of lawn to the mountains beyond. The scars from the earthquake were visible even in distance.

  “He bound you to him because he needs to know your location at all times. It offers him warning of your intentions. We can use that. We can blindside him.” Rivalen swung around.

  Teroux’s denial was stark upon his face.

  “Boy, cowardice is out of place in this present. Did you not give me your allegiance? Renege on me now, and I will snuff your light this instant. Do you want this man you are bound to?”

  Shuddering, Teroux nodded.

  Grinning triumph, Rivalen approached. “Then hear me now. Follow my lead, and he is yours.”

  Avaelyn

  ALIGHTING ON THE GRASSY level before Torrullin and Elianas’ ho
me, Quilla was nonplussed.

  He had employed the usual coordinates to visit the dwelling, and yet his transport dumped him outside. Shrugging, the birdman stepped forward to approach the first of many decorative bridges in the garden … and found himself stepping backward instead.

  Huffing, he halted to tap a tiny clawed foot upon the green stalks underfoot. Now why was this happening?

  Ah.

  No one was home. But now, after the restoration, no one could enter in their absence. Elianas inserted added protection. Quilla smiled somewhat wryly. He agreed with the additional layering, but right now it placed him in an untenable position. The only safe place in the entire universe for the Lumin Sword was inside that dwelling.

  He certainly did not wish to traipse around with it. Glancing at the wrapped blade he clasped in both hands, an idea formed. This damned sword created a too large target on his back; he was not about to leave here with it. Thus he would employ the device to enter.

  The birdman jerked his head up. Elianas would probably want to kill him for sidestepping the defences in place. Then again, the dark man could use the imminent breach to insert yet another layer of protection for their home. Nodding to himself, Quilla decided he would sell it in that manner. He was, in fact, doing them a favour in pointing out a flaw in the defences.

  Huffing again, this time over his defensive deceit - yes, Elianas scared him a bit - he kneeled to free the blade from its protective swaddling.

  He prayed to the Q’lin’la gods for aid. If he employed the Lumin Sword incorrectly, he would land up in a realm far beyond all time and place.

  Lifting the sword, Quilla focused with all of him.

  Grinwallin

  THE FIRST SKIRMISH WAS sparked accidentally.

  Two Senlu soldiers on patrol veered off course when their horses bolted. A snake on the path scared their mounts into desperate flight.

  As they crossed the border into Valleur territory, the Luvanese pickets rose from behind a hedge to challenge them, bows drawn.

  Unfortunately, despite hauling at the reins, neither horse stopped. Moments later, arrows protruded from the soldiers’ backs and they slumped forward, racing towards a forest they would never see again with living eyes.