The Tymorean Trust Book 1 - Power Rising

by Margaret Gregory

  Chapter 36 - Revelation

  High King Tymoros welcomed the peace within the Altar Room of the Sacred Temple. In there, he always felt a renewal of his strength of purpose. Alone for now, he sat on one of the benches, set into the wall of the chamber and focussed on the small lamp at the left end of the Altar, and listened. The soft voices of the Elders carried from the gathering room below. Occasionally the clear young voices of Tymos or Kryslie asked a question, and an Elder would answer. His children, born on Earth, but unquestionably his, had surprised the Elders with their innate wisdom, and fresh view of Tymorea. Yet the Elders knew what his children were destined to be, and looked beneath the façade of youth to teach and learn from, the adults they would soon be.

  Before coming to the temple, Tymos and Kryslie had learnt a great deal of Tymorean history and geography. In the past three weeks, the Elders had built on that knowledge and given comparisons between the past eras of Tymorea and the present social, political, geographical and demographical situations.

  Kryslie noted, as Tymoros listened, the lack of reference to the oceans of Tymorea. She knew that they were, by tradition, left alone. Elder Gabrel spoke and as he explained, ancient memories stirred.

  “There is an ancient legend, of a race of very high intelligence living within the ocean. In the past thousand years, no one has seen evidence of such a race. The last mention was merely a reference in the writings of Lorno, one of the legendary Great Ones.”

  In the Altar room, Tymoros was finally able to take a step back and look at his children as the Elders did. They were, indeed, more than just alien children that he had first adopted and then come to love as his own.

  They had a destiny, and he dare not hold them back or his whole world would be in peril. He supposed, that even the Great One, Lorno, must have been young once.

  Now, from his currently dispassionate viewpoint, he recognised how both Tymos and Kryslie had changed. It was not just that they were no longer innocent. They had experienced an attack on themselves, seen the penalty of disempowerment; they had seen death. It was also that their individual characters were becoming stronger - they were no longer strong willed and ignorant, but strong willed and determined. They were no longer children, but adults in all but age.

  He thought then about Llaimos. He tried to think ahead to the stages of growth he could expect for his youngest child. Always, the images blinked from child to adult. Regret did not colour his thinking. Llaimos, back in the safety of the Royal Estate, was growing quickly. And it could only be because he had to be ready – because he was the third. Always, in times of desperate need, three Great Ones emerged.

  Briefly, he admitted to himself the desire to cancel his tour, go home to the Royal Estate. Immediately, part of his mind told him must continue – that Tymos and Kryslie must experience the world outside of the Estate. He trusted this instinctive reaction – even if this meant they were exposed to danger.

  He knew he needed to be able to step back further, and let them learn to act on their own. It wasn’t easy, when he had lost so many children, but children had to grow and become independent.

  He could not stifle them.

  It did not mean that he would throw them into danger. They were still inexperienced, even with all the memories of all the Governors. After leaving the Temple, while they were on tour, the guards that went with them would not take risks. They would be even more security conscious than when they were at the Estate.

  None of their number had found tracks of the young alien. He accepted that the being must have returned and reported to his superiors. Maybe it was to the leader of the group who had intruded into the palace grounds. If so, that leader would surely want to have another go at his children.

  His mind moved forward to when they would be leaving the Temple. A day, two at most, the weather forecasters estimated before the last of the storms passed. The city of Dira was their first official stop. They would be safe enough there…

  From the eleven captured intruders, Reslic had taken personal force screens. These had protected the intruders from the effects of the alien’s green force weapon. They should do the same for Tymoreans. That was why Tymoros already wore one of the captured devices and he would have one for each of Tymos and Kryslie. The other eight would be used by some of the guards. That would be yet another protection.

  Tymoros moved his thoughts to the return of young Zacary and Reslic’s concern that he might be an unwitting spy for the aliens. Certainly, he must investigate the young man when he returned. Still, in the two weeks since Zacary had been allowed up and about, those observing him had reported nothing suspicious. He felt a warning shiver. Hadn’t young Stenn Reslic implied that Zacary was adept at hiding his bullying actions from adults?

  His thoughts were interrupted by the presence of others in the altar room.

  “Father?” Kryslie spoke quietly.

  Tymoros turned, smiled and beckoned to them. “Tired of lessons?” he asked as Tymos and Kryslie came and sat on either side of him.

  “No,” Kryslie answered truthfully. “Everything the Elders have said to us is important. They have given us a wider perspective of the world.”

  “And enabled us to bring together the many ideas that come unexpectedly into our minds,” Tymos added. “When they speak of new things, we recall many details that we have not experienced. We guess these things come to us from the mind meld with you and the other Governors…but there are memories from far, far back. From before you or Reslic or Xyron could have been born.”

  “Those are memories that come to each Governor during the Ritual of Ascension. It is a gift from the Guardians of Peace - wisdom that will guide us and keep us from repeating past mistakes.”

  Both Tymos and Kryslie considered that answer, and then Kryslie spoke again. “We asked the Elders why it might be that we feel pressure within us when a ground tremor is building. They spoke of those in the past that had ‘planet sense’, and more of those very old memories surfaced. It seems that we have such a gift…or curse.”

  “The Elders told us that those with this sense could feel trauma done to the planet,” Tymos added. “But they could also draw on the aura of this planet when they need to replenish their personal power. This we know we can do.”

  Tymoros nodded. “That is what the legends of the Great Ones claim. Yet, all those with Royal Power do that to a lesser extent…usually passively…except when activating the transmitters. Those units draw on the aura to charge up, but the rate of charging depends on the level of power of the user.”

  That statement recalled to Tymos’s mind all the tech data he had read in the archives about transmitters. He needed time to sort and discard details not relevant to his sudden thought.

  Kryslie caught an idea and held onto it.

  “The power grid on the estate amplifies the passive draw on the aura…and the transmitters also have a booster function built in…but…Tymos and I don’t need either,” she said slowly. “Can you transmit when you are away from the estate?”

  “Yes, and across reasonable distance. However, to go from here to the estate…no. We would have to tap a long-range beam,” Tymoros told them.

  “Could we?” Kryslie asked.

  Tymoros sat calmly. “I do not know.”

  “The guards…they can transmit groups of people…a fair distance,” Tymos pointed out. “Could we use their devices…with the boost potential…out here?”

  “Yes.”

  “What about ordinary people, other royals,” Kryslie asked.

  “Yes,” Tymoros answered tersely again.

  “How could an ordinary royal person, actively draw on the aura?” Kryslie persisted. That was a point not mentioned anywhere in the archives.

  Tymos found the answer coming into his mind. It was more of a visual image. “They would have to be able to sense the aura.”

  Tymoros did not add to that answer. Instead, he queried, “Is this ability an important matter?”

  Tymos
twitched and turned his attention back to his father. “It was something that niggled my mind.”

  Mentally, Kryslie commented to her twin, “And I think I know why I feel more alive since we left the estate.”

  “Why,” Tymos asked mentally as he looked around and focussed on the multicoloured glass window behind the altar.

  “The power grid that the transmitters draw on blocks us from the aura, or rather makes it harder to draw on directly. That is not the case out here. The two of us must draw on it naturally.”

  Kryslie gave a brief mental word of agreement and spoke to distract their father. “We were asked to sit the vigil tonight. The Elders will be instructing us after we eat.”

  The air was always calm in the Eternal Temple. Storms could rage without, winds could blow with fearful intensity, but only the faintest of breezes would be felt within, even if all the doors and windows were open.

  On that night, in the altar Room, the two oil-fed lamps were giving an absolutely steady light. The night outside was completely still. Within the temple, the silence was absolute.

  While the Elders and younger acolytes slept in chambers off the gathering room, Tymos and Kryslie knelt in silent meditation, with eyes closed – oblivious to the hard stone under their knees.

  They both woke from their thoughts, eyes flicking open at the same instant – aware of a draught in the Altar Room. In an atavistic reaction, both felt the hairs on their necks prickle. Both stood, looked away from each other and adjusted their eyes to see more clearly in the dim light. The lamp flames were flickering wildly and from behind the Altar, where no opening existed, an aura of pale mauve was growing in intensity.

  They sensed…a Presence.

  “What…” Kryslie began to say, but she forgot all thought when the mauve glow became like sunlight and the altar seemed to vanish into a vista of sunshine, cloudless blue skies, green hills, trees, flowers and a stream trickling and tumbling down rocks nearby.

  Then a musical voice spoke softly in their minds. “You are children of divine creation. Will you serve as our Advocates to return peace to this world? Will you serve us with your heart, your mind and your will?”

  “Who are you?” Tymos asked in awe. “You have spoken to us before.”

  “We are the Guardians of Peace. We are part of you and you were created to serve us.”

  “And Llaimos?” Kryslie asked.

  “He is the third. Three are needed to open this portal to Dirakee.”

  An intense sensation of peace filled Tymos and Kryslie. It lasted only a moment, but long enough for them to want to share the feeling with all their people.

  “You have so much power,” Kryslie thought. “Surely you do not need us? We are but mortal humans.”

  “Child, we cannot act directly, and we cannot be in all places at once. We need you, but you may always call on us and we will be with you. It is through you, our desire for peace will be done.”

  Without needing to confirm the decision with each other, both Tymos and Kryslie spoke the words of the promise together. “We pledge to serve you with heart, mind and will.”

  Into their minds came the full knowledge of what they were to be. They saw flashing images of the future that was to come, with scenes of devastation momentarily obscuring the peaceful scene that was Dirakee.

  Yet this threat did not frighten them. They had the promise that peace would return to their world. They had the power to act and would know what to do…if they stayed open to the wisdom of the Guardians. They understood that their elders were already preparing, for the future. Preparing to keep the people safe, hunting down the alien saboteurs. Tymos and Kryslie saw that those aliens were not the real enemy. They too were victims, though still dangerous to the peace of Tymorea.

  They filled their mind with the picture of Dirakee, the legendary fortress of the Tymorean people. The portal closed slowly; the light faded out. They knew that the portal would open again for them, at need.

  One final scripture came into their mind. “Those that can open the gates - cannot enter.”

  The dimness returned to the Altar Room, as Tymos and Kryslie came to terms with what they had seen and heard.

  They had experienced the will of the Guardians of Peace.