by S C Gowland
‘It’s not that one.’ came Tokel’s voice. ‘It’s this one’ she pointed to the left of the tower to a smaller, wider one. Its entrance identical to the other two, a huge stone statue of a cloaked and hooded figure at the main entrance. She glanced between the three towers, each statute was made from a different coloured stone: black for the main tower, blue for the right and butter yellow for their tower. The statues – at least fifty metres tall – stood silent, solid. Romina found herself wondering what sights they had seen, what had befallen the city.
Paper flittered as Kubrean pushed it away with his hand. He rubbed his arms as he looked inside, eyes alert.
‘No way they can come with us.’ he pointed towards the panthera.
Tokel nodded. ‘They stay here.’ she said.
A rustle of movement as the group climbed down.
Romina dismounted, Essa’s big blue eyes watching as she did so. She nuzzled her big head into Romina, almost knocking her off her feet. Romina’s face broke out in a smile.
‘Its alright.’ she said stroking and tickling her ears.
Essa blinked then pushed her head in deeper to Romina’s shoulder.
She giggled. ‘Stop it.’ shaking her head. ‘Stay here and watch the others.’
Essa snorted and glanced at the other pantheras that had begun to drop to the ground, bags and saddles rustling as they did so.
‘Stay.’ Romina raised her hand, then turned, gaze darting around. She swallowed, throat dry and wondered if Essa felt as she did, slightly sick and excited all at the same time.
Muffled footsteps echoed as they entered beneath the billowing yellow cloak of the Walker. Faces serious, hands not far from weapons.
If this was one of the most important places within Zuivosal, no expense had been spared in its construction. Surprisingly, the building was intact only major parts of the outer wall appear to have been dismantled, thrown away, as if a small child had knocked toy blocks away with one tantrum filled stroke of their arm.
Once fully inside the splendour had continued; a pale marble floor, several doorways leading off in other directions, cold light shone in capturing swirls of dust and debris, paper and chunks of plaster - minding their own business - silently twisting in the air, as if the most natural thing in the world.
A line of columns spread out before them rising up towards the ceiling hidden in shadows and flickers of light. It took her a second to recognise the sight before her.
A slow breath escaped from her chest.
A forest.
A stone forest.
The columns were not columns, they were a breath-taking arrangement of stone trees, branches stretching out from each central trunk, supporting the floor above, differing heights to support floors that rose up and disappeared into the darkness.
She found herself mouth open, just looking. Frowned as it dawned on her the strength and beauty of the arrangement. Why not imitate nature?
It was genius.
Why spend time creating something new when nature shows you how to do it best. The air inside the tower was cool, but with it came a sense of peace. Her shoulder relaxed, aching muscles fizzed as the tension within them melted away. The more she saw the more comfortable she felt.
They had followed Tokel up a set of wide curved, paper-strewn stairs. Treading carefully around the debris on each step.
She noticed little details; slits in the outer wall, filled with yellow glass, adding to the warm feel in the air, leaves carved into a handrail made to look like a vine of some sort. She reached touched it; it was warm, coarse and smooth in places under her fingers as she moved her hand up it. Much smoother than she had expected.
She wondered how many hands had gripped it for support over the centuries.
In her mind she pictured scenes from Vanguard, students in huddles moving between classes, chattering with excitement, busy, noisy.
Imagining the same here, people within this place bringing it to life, giving it purpose and now silent.
A thought entered her head.
She gasped, as a wave of ice washed over her body.
‘Where are they?’ she blurted.
The entire group turned to look at her, hands hovering by weapons.
She looked towards the puzzled faces.
‘Where are they?’ she said louder this time, but voice cracking slightly.
‘Who?’ said Tokel
‘The people.’
Tokel’s eyes narrowed.
‘That lived here.’ Romina pointed to the floor. ‘The citizens, the Walkers? Where are their bodies?’
Confusion melted from Tokel’s face, her eyes wide with horror.
She looked towards Kubrean his face grim.
‘Good point when you think about it.’ he conceded.
Tokel looked around, ‘As if I didn’t hate this place enough already.’ she muttered.
‘We stay together, no-one goes off exploring.’ he said firmly. ‘No-one. Clear?’
Heads nodded; the throbbing ache returned to Romina’s neck.
‘We focus on what we are here to do.’ said Tokel
Lauden looked towards Romina, she smiled weakly, he swallowed then they followed the group up the stairs.
‘This way.’ said Tokel.
They continued upwards, wide stairs sweeping round, light soft and atmosphere tense. Eventually they reached the destination, a small conversation between Tokel and Kubrean, the rustling of paper, fingers pointed and then they continued.
Her mind felt active, hyperactive. Sense turned up to a new level of awareness.
She noticed things like never before, the scratching of boots on dusty floors, the slight metallic clink of a collection of knives at Dalon’s waist, Kubrean’s slightly heavy breathing.
They passed through a series of rooms, light warm inviting. If she had been dropped into this room with no idea of where she was, it could have been any library in the world. A very messy library granted, but no real indication of the horrors that had effectively wiped this place from the map of the world within one night.
The dull ache at the back of her head was working its way towards the front of her head. She paused for a moment, pressing her fingers deep into the bridge of her nose, shook her head out and leaned with one hand on a nearby table; its surface warm and smooth. Blinking the pain receded, her vision cleared, and she saw in the dust on the table her handprint, right next to another less fresh print. She wiggled her fingers, it was a bigger hand, but who’s? A survivor, someone trapped inside after the city had been sealed? The last evidence of life before the loss of the city.
Tension began to build in her body, she clenched her teeth, short shallow breaths rasped in and out.
A big hand rested on her shoulder; she almost went for her weapon, but another hand firmly but gently stopped it.
‘Breathe.’ said Kryst stepping around in front of her.
‘Just breathe.’ he said as if showing her how to do so for the first time.
Her eyes locked with his. Gentle pale blue, with specks of green.
He just stood with her.
They breathed together, slowly, deeply.
He nodded slowly setting a pace.
In. Out. In Out.
She felt the ache in her head begin to fade away.
‘Better?’ he asked.
She nodded. ‘Much, thank you.’
‘Just focus on your breathing.’ he said, ‘It helps to keep all of this in the background.’ he flicked his hands towards their surroundings. ‘This is the past. This is history. This is not us. This will not be us.’ he said voice level and calm.
‘Just breathe.’ she said.
He nodded. ‘Easiest thing in the world. Even Zalen can do it. He would even consider himself an expert at it.’
She grinned.
‘We will be out of here soon.’ he said face gentle.
She closed her eyes and let out one long final breath. When she reopened them, she could not help her gaze falling on
to the two handprints in the dust of the table, she swallowed and heaved herself after Kryst.
The tower was enormous.
They continued to pass through rooms, each almost the same as the last, tables chairs, bookcases towering towards vaulted ceilings. Books and papers strewn around, some floating others covering furniture and floor.
‘This is it.’ she heard Tokel’s voice in the distance.
Tokel and Kubrean had stopped at the end of the chamber in front of a pair of ornate and rather imposing copper plated doors, which rose full length to the cracked ceiling. Their handles woven ribbons of gold - rivets and hinges the same.
Kubrean grin seemed to light up the air around the door.
‘Good.’ he growled. ‘Would you?’ he gestured towards Lauden and Dalon.
The pair moved forward each grasping a handle.
‘1,2,3…’ they heaved, the screech of metal filled the room, Tokel winced covering her ears. The sound set Romina’s teeth on edge.
Grunts of effort, a grinding noise and a whine of straining metal followed by a sharp clank on the other side of the huge doors. They gave one last whine and then moved fluidly open. Warm light burst through the opening, swirls of dust scattered away as the air flowed, for perhaps the first time in 400 years. The grunting stopped.
‘Thank you.’ said Tokel, striding through the doorway. Lauden and Dalon, weakly raised hands in acknowledgment.
A wave of curiosity swept over Romina. She followed Tokel, carefully picking her steps between discarded books, and chunks of plaster.
‘Wow.’ she muttered as the sight came into view.
‘Quite.’ said Tokel, stood hands on her hips by a balcony.
As she moved alongside the Grey Walker the full view was revealed.
Two floors within a large oval room. Bookcases as before, paper scattered and floating, as before. But there was a difference, the decoration of this room was darker, red walls rather than the buttery yellow of others they had passed through. On the ceiling an ornate painting of two halves, the black of night complete with silvery moon and the other the blue and yellow of day.
The upper floor swept around with multiple alcoves evenly spread out, each containing neatly stacked or floating books. The lower floor mirrored the upper, except the central floor space was filled with table and chairs, seemingly unaffected by the chaos within the city.
‘This is definitely it.’ said Tokel with a grin. ‘The copper on the doors, must have shielded the room somehow. But this is most definitely what we have been looking for.’
Warm optimism refreshed Romina’s muscles.
It was short lived.
***
The book slammed shut with a dull thud.
Dust blew up into Kaoldan's face. He gagged, half coughed, raising his hand to his mouth. He muttered something rude and unintelligible under his breath.
Kaoldan had always hated research, reading books, anything academic was to him one of the greatest challenges in the world. His mind wandered constantly, like a lost butterfly, always unable to give it the concentration and the necessary effort to find what he was looking for, and today was no exception.
Granted the circumstances were somewhat unusual; the surroundings of Zuivosal like another world. They had set Kaoldan's nerves on edge, ever since they had passed through the ice cold barrier, he shuddered just the memory of it sent a shiver down his spine. Once inside he had felt on edge, nervous, unable to settle in these surroundings, it seemed to seep into every sense; sight, smell, taste, sound and touch, altering them all, setting them all off for no obvious reason.
He glanced around for the fiftieth time that hour. He was certain his imagination was playing tricks on him. But somewhere deep within his guts there was a cold nagging feeling that something just wasn't right.
They had been searching the citadel for what felt like hours and so far without success. Room after room, book after book, page after page, they'd found nothing to suggest either that the Dark Crown or Reng even existed. It was disheartening, annoying and more than anything monotonous work.
The citadel was a fortress of a building. Heavy grey stone, in square blocks interlinked like a giant jigsaw puzzle. The blocks did not merely sit side by side, like bricks. They interlocked every block via a dovetail joints to each other. Aralorne had spoken at length about how this gave the building incredible strength and probably saved it from greater damage.
Since passing through the barrier it was as if Aralorne was a different person, he had been switched from a quiet reserved man for a non-stop chattering expert. He appeared to know everything about everything and was not shy in now sharing this fact.
A small frown crept onto Kaoldan’s face; it had helped during the journey, a welcome distraction from the gnawing feeling in his guts. Perhaps the white haired man was not so bad after all.
His eyes rose on the ceiling, vaulted, and robust.
The citadel was surprisingly intact compared to some that they had seen on their journey through the city. Only the outer and highest ramparts and parts of the roof appeared to have been blown out, but they hung, very neatly ten or twenty metres above the derelict building beneath.
Nova had been as good as his word. Through a combination of conversations with Aralorne, wrestling with rustling bits of paper, looking in several directions, muttering, cursing, twisting and turning the paper in his hand they'd finally found their current surroundings.
The citadel tower they had been slowly working their way through had struck. Kaoldan as being very reminiscent of Prava. It may well have been the case that the two had been designed and developed by the same people at the same time the library within the tower was to say the least extensive.
Piles of leather-bound books placed high on shelves, in dark red, browns and greens appearing mouldy from a distance, but surprisingly well preserved up close. They had come across collections of scrolls filling entire rooms, piled haphazardly like logs ready for the fire - twice the height of a man. They appeared to be in no order, to have no system, no coherent structure just a reflection of the chaos that they saw around them.
The familiar tap of ash on the stone floor announced the arrival of Nova. The old man slammed down the book next to Kaoldan, a look of profound disappointment on his face
‘I’m beginning to get sick of the sight of books.’ muttered the old man irritably.
‘I was beginning to think the same thing myself,’ said Kaoldan rolling his shoulders. ‘Do you really think it is here?’
Nova considered, glancing around the wood panelled library a look of frustration grew upon his face.
‘I'm beginning to doubt it.’ said the old man, somewhat reluctantly. ’If we are to find answers anywhere, this is the place.’ He tapped his staff on the floor with rhythmic irritation.
‘All the evidence says it should be here and Aralorne has been completely correct in everything so far. The man is without a doubt the greatest source of knowledge on this in the entire land and I do not believe in my heart of hearts that he is wrong. It's just unfortunate that we don't have the numbers we require and, worst of all, we have a very limited window within which to do it. Not the perfect set of circumstances when trying to search through hundreds of years of history.’ said Nova. ‘It must be here somewhere.’
‘I hope the others are having better luck.’ Kaoldan murmured
‘I’m sure they are my friend.’ He said likely patting Kaoldan on the shoulder.
Kaoldan worked his jaw, as he saw the sun finally set.
Surely, they would find something soon.
***
She muttered a swear word under her breath as she turned another page. The paper crackled and dust scattered out before her. She clenched her jaw and swiped at a book that hung in front of her like if an irritating fly. It twisted in the air, fluttering without a care away from her.
They had been searching through papers and books within the oval room for hours. Through the night they had worked
by candlelight, moving systematically from alcove to alcove along the upper balcony, it appeared this area had been mainly used for the collection and storage of scrolls and maps.
They had been able to make good progress until they had moved downstairs. Hundreds if not thousands of books thick with pages of text. She shook her head and rolled her neck muscles heavy and numb, she squinted at the early morning light that had begun to enter the room. They had not slept, how could they with so much to look through. Time was beginning to get tight.
The books all appeared to have been written in the language of the Walker, not always the common tongue, which had further delayed their progress. Her knowledge of them both was solid but having to flip between the two was making her eyes numb and her head hurt.
Despite having cleared through six rooms they'd found nothing but ancient stories, recollections of battles, training manuals, ledgers, notes of meetings and very little of interest.
She was beginning to lose heart.
How could they possibly find the information they required within the timescale that they had available; she slammed the book shut in frustration with a thump.
Tokel looked up at her, elbows resting on the table, with a reassuring smile.
‘Patience my dear.’ she said, ‘We will find it and have the time, we just need to remain sharp and focused. Trust me.’ she said with a small nod. ’We will be out of here soon.’
Despite herself Romina snorted, looking at their surroundings with disdain.
Tokel leaned forward over her book.
‘Don’t think you are the only one finding this place a little creepy.’ she said looking with a certain disgust around her. ‘This place has no life. It died a long time ago, a long time before any of us and it needs to be sealed again consigned to history.’
A short yelp made their heads jerk up towards the noise.
A different shout of annoyance came after it.
They heard another small shout of triumph as Kryst sprinted forward from the edge of an alcove bookcase, a large book cradled in his arms. He carefully placed it on the table, face beaming. Dalon followed fists clenched, shaking his head.
