Baladar’s concern was staggering as he finally realized the extent of the changes that had overtaken this once vibrant and effusive place.
Am I too late?
“Calista?” he called out. “My Queen? Are you here? Can you hear me?” he shouted, and not even an echo answered him back.
He walked toward the quartz throne that had been so dazzling before, so comforting in its wondrous beauty, and he saw with great relief the hem of a dress extending beyond the legs of the great chair, but it was a faded violet in color rather than vivid and alive as before. Calista stepped from behind the throne and revealed herself to him. Her beautiful green eyes still sparkled brightly and her long blonde hair framed her magnificent face, but the gossamer silk of her gown hung limply around her thin body.
“I am not the source, noble Baladar. I am but a conduit,” she said to him in a soft, melodious voice, staring deeply into his eyes, not needing to be verbally questioned in order to reply.
He bent down on one knee, bowed his head before her, shocked and saddened by the deterioration that he now saw clearly all around, and he listened intently.
“As the trees die, I become further and further removed from the wellhead of the power, from the First, and the Gem’s potency.”
Baladar raised his head and looked upon her with adoration tempered by an overwhelming sense of sorrow, and he listened intently.
“My time here is almost done,” she said with regret in her voice, as a shiver ran down his spine.
“Colton too is but a vessel and a channel for the void. He is a harbinger, but neither is he the source. He can be surmounted, Baladar!” she continued with a weakened voice.
“You have leaned upon me as it should have been, but I am but a railing, a resting spot. You cannot rely upon me to hold you up,” she said.
“But, my Lady! You have guided us for so long, in ways we never even knew. How are we to go on without you?” he implored, never dreaming that her days could be numbered.
“You know what must be done. The First must be found and the Gem must be allowed to radiate freely once again. The darkness which shrouds it must be destroyed before the light dies,” Calista said, more weakly now than previously.
She closed her eyes briefly and bent her head. When she reopened them, they were just a tiny bit duller and her skin was growing noticeably paler too.
“The void encroaches Baladar, and you have the means to turn it back,” she said.
Baladar thought for a minute before speaking again.
“My Queen, there are two rings and there are two heirs,” he said in a whisper, knowing the import of this news.
“Two, you say?” she asked, her face tilted in consternation. “I should have known. I have been kept from the source for too long,” she said, and she smiled to herself. She hesitated before speaking again. Calista closed her eyes momentarily, obviously thinking deeply. “The meaning is now clear to me, dear Baladar, and it bodes well for you, indeed, for us all,” she said after a brief respite.
She began to recite a poem that Baladar recognized from the Tomes.
“When darkness reaches out to light
and clashes brightly in the night,
When the trees decide to grow no more
and all the Kingdoms march to war,
When the sky grows dull and the winds grow still,
When the noble begin to lose their will,
When wrongness marches against what’s right,
and cities fall beneath its might,
Then what was one will become two,
and the quest for the Gem will begin anew.”
“Do you see, Baladar?” she said. Her eyes were sparkling brightly now. “It is beginning. I did not know the meaning before, though I have read those lines thousands of times.” She walked to the crystal throne and sat down, resting her thin arms weakly upon it. “Two rings and two boys,” she said contentedly to herself. “It is as it should be! The fabric weaves of its own will, Baladar. But, you must guide it well, smooth it out when you are able to, coax and caress it toward the ends we all desire. So much, nay everything, is at stake!” she said quietly, the words issuing slowly from her mouth.
“My Queen. If I am to help the boys and set them on their quest, I must first be permitted to unite them and awaken Davmiran. My city is under siege and we have not the power to stop it. Is there nothing you can do to help?” he appealed, fearing that at this point her weakness may have become too great.
“My present life on this earth is at an end, Baladar. I fear not for myself any longer,” she said, still deeply immersed in her reverie while her beautiful eyes stared out at nothing. “But you must return to the city as quickly as you are able to,” she said fragilely. “I will do what I can.” Her skin was growing paler by the minute, fading before his saddened eyes. “Alas, what I am still capable of may not be enough. Behold what becomes of my realm,” she said, and she swept her fragile arm in a semicircle about her. Her striking face had a startlingly sad expression upon it. “Soon it will be no more, removed from space and time as if it never existed. Go now! Time is running out,” Calista said with an urgency heretofore undetected. “Remember my son, have courage always! Fear can torment you and it can drive you to the very edge of sanity, but it can never rule your heart,” she concluded. Her eyes were glowing with an intense power despite the weakened condition of her body. “Remain steadfast on your course. Always follow your heart!”
Baladar stood and reached for her hand. It was almost cold to the touch, but it was still soft and invigorating to clasp nonetheless. He brought his lips to it and he kissed it with as much feeling as he had ever felt for anyone other than Briland.
“Farewell, my Queen,” he said, moved almost to tears, bowing before her and savoring what he knew were the final moments.
“May the First guide you and protect you always, Baladar. Farewell my honorable man. Be brave,” she admonished him fondly and closed her eyes, while her other hand lay upon his bowed head.
Baladar released her frail fingers, turned quickly and then left the throne room as fast as he could without ever looking back. He did not know what, if anything, Calista could possibly do in her weakened condition, but he trusted her and he respected her so thoroughly that he did not question her instructions. She would do what she could, of that he was certain, if it was not already too late.
He started to walk down the great hallway, and before his very eyes, it began to shimmer and fade; to lose the very solidity that kept him from tumbling into the void. He ran now, fearing that everything would collapse beneath his feet; that it would dissolve, and that he would fall into the blackened emptiness and never get back to Pardatha.
When he reached the golden doors, they hung loosely from their hinges and beneath them was a vast emptiness. He was afraid that if they separated from their frame, they would fall away into space. He hurried across the disintegrating threshold and hastily made for the path before him. The leaves were falling thickly everywhere, creating a silver snowstorm all around him. He had to jump over crevices, beneath which was nothing at all. He rushed through waves of falling trees that made no sound as they tumbled, collapsing heavily behind him as he passed them by. This world was imploding, not simply disappearing. Its magnificence and awesome beauty was being sucked into the vacuity of the void, sundered forever, as if it never had existed at all.
The colors of everything were fading gradually as he careened down the path, getting paler and paler, until he could barely distinguish between the different objects that surrounded him. He saw only shadows of what once was, and even the shadows were pale and indistinct, evanescent and barely discernible. The blanket of moss and grass upon which he stepped disappeared beneath his feet, and he hurried over merely the suggestions of solidity, while his feet miraculously remained level. The silence was almost unbearable and it was only enhanced a million times over in contradiction to the violent activity he saw everywhere. This world was ending, and Baladar k
new that he had to leave it before it disappeared completely or he would melt away with it and vanish forever into nothingness.
He ran and ran until he found himself once more before the portal through which he had earlier entered the realm of the Lady of the Island. He stepped through it and was immediately sucked into the vacuum of space, his body turning and twisting and spinning uncontrollably. He instantaneously lost his sense of balance, his equilibrium disrupted entirely. But he allowed himself to fall and to rise again, to tumble and to turn and to rush headlong into the void. He let go for a while, not knowing if he would ever return to the world once more, and he lost all track of time in the process.
He lost consciousness for what seemed like a short span though he was unsure exactly of how long, and he awoke to the distinct sound of a horn blaring in the distance. As his eyes began to focus once again, he regained his balance and righted himself. He recognized the path before him, and urgency compelled him forward.
Baladar ran at full speed through the forest, past the hollow, the chasm that was once Snihso, until he discovered once again the trap door that would lead him into the tunnel. He threw it open violently, gasping for breath by this time, and he jumped into the hole. Not wasting even a moment to find the torch he left at the door, he ran through the darkness, bumping into walls of hard dirt and falling occasionally, racing down the darkened passageway, until he reached the stone doorway that marked the end of the shaft.
Baladar pushed on the indentation that would release the lever and allow the hidden door to open. Without any thought of concealing his actions, he pressed heavily upon the stone, throwing it loudly open, and then he crashed through the doorway into the room. He collapsed in an exhausted heap on the floor, panting heavily.
Chapter Fifty-three
The noise from the catapults was the first sound he was able to distinguish, and it motivated him to rise and return to the battlements. He rushed through the rubble strewn streets, and as he approached the guard post that would take him to the towers, he heard a voice call to him from above.
“My Lord? Where have you been? We have searched everywhere for you.” Grogan yelled down at Baladar.
“Let me join you and I will explain,” he yelled back, panting between his words while brushing the dirt and debris from his cloak as he rushed up the winding steps.
When he reached the top, he was met by Filaree, Cairn and Robyn. They looked expectantly upon him, each of them relieved to see him again, as he immediately began to recount the events of the past few hours. After he completed relating his recent experiences with Calista and they all took a moment to absorb what he said, Robyn was the first one to speak.
“I deeply regret that I have not had the opportunity to meet this astonishing woman. Alas, I now never shall,” he said sadly. “We are all dangling over the threshold of a new age. The present as we know it is falling away piece by piece. What was only moments ago a part of our reality is now mere legend. She will be sorely missed.”
“Is there nothing we can do to help her?” Filaree asked.
“I fear not, Lady Filaree. It is beyond our power. We must do what we can to help ourselves. The fabric weaves of its own will’,” he repeated solemnly to the group what Calista had so poignantly said to him earlier.
“Do you think she can do anything to aid us at this point? The wall yonder is weakening by the minute. I pray it is not too late even if she still commands some power,” Cairn said as he gazed at the battleground.
Baladar was looking out over the fortification as well, at the newest barrage of stones that was being cast upon it, and he was alarmed at the extent of the damage to the broad wall. In his short absence it appeared to have weakened considerably.
“I suspect that it may be, my friend. She is gravely impaired from the same force that drives our enemy with such abandon. She had little strength left to devote to our plight, I fear.”
Baladar answered these queries with tremendous resignation in his voice. He walked wearily to the edge of the wall and stood near the tower, gazing out toward the western horizon with his eyelids half closed, deep in contemplation, forlorn and distraught. He still had the image of Calista in his mind and he shook his head sadly at the thought of what she had become. Next to Briland, she had been the most inspiring woman in his life, and he always believed that she would live indefinitely. Shortly now she would be gone too, lost to the earth forever, her flame snuffed out too soon by evil and corruption.
Out of the corner of his eye he glimpsed a group of soldiers flocking to the eastern end of the wall, revealing themselves dangerously to the enemy in their exuberance, and he wondered what new horror was about to envelop them. Others joined the group, and soon they were all pointing in the direction of the lake beyond the forest, the Lady’s lake.
Robyn was the first to see it since his eyes were among the sharpest of the group. Under the light of the setting sun, he could clearly see great spouts of water gushing up from the center of the lake. And as everyone watched awestruck, the island that was usually shrouded in fog and mist seemed to rise up out of its obscurity. Its hidden shores broke the surface of the lake and sent massive waves of liquid emanating outward in all directions that gained strength and speed with each foot of ground they covered.
As the island ascended like a new born volcano rising out of the ocean, the trees, grass and earth all fell away into the gushing fluid, leaving a pillar of gleaming quartz exposed for all to see. Geysers were shooting hundreds of feet up into the air and bursting violently into the darkening sky. The lake was seething and bubbling furiously, rising up over its shores and emptying endless gallons of rushing water out of its limitless basin.
Soon Filaree, Cairn and Baladar could see it as well. Water was spilling out more rapidly now, cascading through the trees and down the hill into the gorge below. They could hear explosions also as thousands of gallons of water shot skyward and then landed heavily all around, shattering whatever they hit with the impact. The catapults ceased firing, and the frightened Trolls watched the hills above them, as their panic mounted with each passing moment.
The bulk of the Troll army was camped at the base of the woods with the steep, side walls of the now barren river abutting their backs, in a place that they had believed was far enough from the city to be out of reach of its archers and therefore safe from attack. But the entire force was now directly underneath the path of the rushing water. The seething liquid began to surge over the crest of the hill and to plunge onto the heads of the unsuspecting Trolls below, creating a rapidly flowing waterfall above and behind the Troll army. The deluge was so incredibly heavy and so totally unexpected that it knocked over everyone and everything in its path. The water picked up speed at an alarming rate as it traveled and it quickly enveloped the entire army and sent it hurtling headlong down the valley.
An endless, invincible torrent of water continued to gush over the hill, building in speed and intensity, flooding the ravine and turning it into a turbulent river once again. The high sides of the gorge contained the surging flood, while the rising water washed away everything it came into contact with. It carried the instruments of war and the warriors themselves down the valley, broken and drowning in the heaving current. It slapped up against the very walls of Pardatha themselves and soaked the soldiers on the battlements in its wake, though its main flow reached no higher than the middle of the battlements. The city appeared to be floating, perched upon a hillock— a solitary haven amidst a now watery grave.
The water continued to flow unhampered for what seemed like an eternity, clearing the battlefield like a wet cloth swiped across a tablet of chalk, washing it clean. All of those atop the battlements could see the water shimmer and glow as it rushed past the city, and many could swear that they saw vivid colors streaking through the muddy morass, sparkling and glimmering below them as it coursed past. It looked to some as if a long train of gossamer silk was being pulled down the valley and spreading out in the murky water bene
ath the walls of the city.
Baladar stared at the gushing stream and he too saw the ribbons of light radiating beneath him, the colors so characteristic of Calista, his revered Queen, and he said a silent prayer for her, the Lady of the Island, the guardian mother of Pardatha. He mouthed a hushed farewell to her, as the mesmerizing colors cascaded by and disappeared into the greater flow.
Just as suddenly as it began, it ended. The water ceased to rise any longer, having completely emptied its fount upon the world. The lake settled down upon itself until it was as calm as a pond on a wind free day. What remained erect was only a solitary summit of beautiful rose colored crystal protruding above the now still surface, which diffused the light from the setting sun into hundreds of rainbows that danced and sparkled magically across the walls of the city. And then a strange calm overtook the valley, and shortly the noise of the water rhythmically sloshing from bank to bank was the only sound to be heard.
All traces of the mountain Trolls were gone and washed away forever. Baladar stood atop the walls of Pardatha flanked by Cairn of Thermaye, Robyn dar Tamarand and Filaree Par D’Avalain. With their arms entwined, standing shoulder to shoulder, they surveyed the battlefield, and four pairs of hopeful eyes looked out at the water, but saw far, far beyond.
Epilogue
During the next few months, the city and its surroundings experienced great changes. The water receded somewhat, but the river continued to flow beyond the walls of Pardatha. Lake Everclear became a place of serenity and calm where people went to meditate and worship, and the great forest surrounding it grew thicker and more lush with each passing day.
Lord Baladar, Lady Filaree, Robyn, Cairn, Prince Elion, Tomas and Preston spent many hours and days communing with each other, learning what they could, solidifying their relationships and strengthening the friendships that would prove later on to be so important to the future of their world. They could be seen taking long walks throughout the city and the surrounding hills in pairs and in small groups, and they were all greeted warmly and respectfully by everyone they met.
The Twins Page 44
