The Record of the Saints Caliber

by M. David White

  “Done and ready.” said Egret. “We’ve cleared the space in the Yotun mines and we’ve carved out the chamber to hold it. The Jinn are installing the levitation crystals to keep it off the floor even as we speak.”

  Balin nodded, a pleased look finally melting his soured features. “Very good, Lord Egret.”

  “What of the roads?” asked Hymnar, the Councilman of Domestic Affairs, from his spot on the table. “Have they been cleared?”

  “Mostly.” said Egret. “I have a half-legion of soldiers stationed in Graystone awaiting Celacia’s arrival. Once the ship lands they shall escort the skull to Mount Yotun. Advance parties will clear the road a day ahead.”

  “Very good,” said Hymnar. “The skull is not yet common knowledge amongst our nobles. Lord Argyle of Graystone knows of it, since his port is receiving it. Other than him, we’d like to keep this under wraps for a while.”

  “How much has this cost?” asked Jord.

  Egret shrugged. “The skull has not arrived at Mount Yotun yet. I estimate the coffer for this project is still about half full.”

  Jord leaned in and started whispering to Rankin Parvailes. Balin sighed and looked at Isley, as if appraising him. Then he turned his gaze back to Egret and asked, almost cautiously, “And the…artifact?”

  “Saint Isley knows of the Mard Grander.” spoke Egret. “And it is safe and sound in my possession.”

  Balin scowled and there were some hushed murmurs amongst the table. Balin bit his lip and shook his head, looking away from Egret. He cast his wary eyes back to Isley and asked, “And what exactly does Saint Isley know about the Mard Grander?”

  “With all due respect,” said Egret. “Saint Isley is—”

  “The understanding was that nobody was to know.” said Gefjon Jolori, quite severely. He tapped his fingers on the table.

  Isley fidgeted as he stood, feeling slightly uncomfortable now.

  “Saint Isley’s cause is aligned with ours.” assured Egret. “He is as resolute as I am in assuring that it does not fall to Celacia’s hands.”

  Balin pursed his lips into a frown as he looked Isley up and down.

  “I may have come here under the banner of Celacia,” said Isley softly and sincerely. “But my allegiance is unwaveringly to the sleeping Goddess. If Celacia intends to use it against my Goddess, then I shall stand steadfast in her way.”

  Balin sighed, still frowning. “Celacia holds his Sanguinastrum. How loyal to our cause can he possibly be?” he muttered.

  “I am fully loyal.” stated Isley, his silver eyes shining like steel in the sunlight streaming from the ceiling. “I am committed to making sure Duroton remains the possessor of the Mard Grander, and not Celacia.”

  “You are speaking beneath the Duroton sky,” reminded Gefjon, holding up a finger, almost accusingly.

  “I am speaking beneath Aeoria’s sky.” said Isley, his voice soft but sharply edged.

  “How much does he know, Lord Egret?” Gefjon was almost yelling. The Councilmen at the table all leaned in and began whispering to one another, their faces red, angry.

  “Saint Isley is my lieutenant. As my lieutenant I have shared what I know about Celacia and the Mard Grander with him.” said Egret to some gasps from the table.

  “This is dangerously close to treason, Lord Egret.” warned Balin.

  “Councilmen,” said Isley. “The Mard Grander was never a secret to me. I knew from the day I followed Celacia here that her intent was to claim this ancient relic from you, and as I understand it, you promised it to her beneath this sky of yours.”

  Balin’s dark eyes flashed, but Isley began again before he could get a word out.

  “But I shall not fault you for seeking to betray her.” said Isley. “In fact, you can do no less.”

  There were some angry whispers and raised voices amongst the Councilmen. Balin regarded Egret severely and said, “This could be considered treason. Isley is not even a citizen of Duroton and you share with him the secrets of this Council? Lord Egret, this is completely unacceptable.”

  “Saint Isley is sworn to me.” said Egret, standing as a motionless specter. “I trust his loyalty completely.”

  “You are renowned in your ability to judge the character of others, Lord Egret,” cracked the ancient voice of Rankin Parvailes. “But Saints are not men like you and me. You cannot be steadfast in your trust of him.” There were some murmurs of concurrment amongst the men at the table.

  “Celacia told me of the Kald, and their demonic god, the Kaldenthrax.” spoke Isley above the angry mumbling of the Councilmen. “Like she told your people, she told me that they had once betrayed her master, and that she had unfinished business with them and sought their demise. However, she also told me that the hammer had the power to awaken the Goddess and that she would see the task done. In that, I never believed her.

  “Like Egret and your Jinn, I do not believe she intends to destroy the Kald or awaken the Goddess. I believe, as Egret does, that she is the herald of the final prophecy. Every night I look to the sky and the few stars that remain. Within a decade the last of the stars will be gone. Celacia is here to herald the final age, the age of chaos and destruction. So, if it shall assuage you of your fears and doubts of me, I say to you, beneath this Duroton sky you hold so dear, that I shall not let that come to pass. And, upon my own terms, I swear to you upon the last remaining stars of our Goddess that same oath.”

  There were some exchanges of wary glances amongst the Councilmen. Balin looked at Isley. “You know this to be certain? That Celacia is the herald of the final age?”

  “She has never said as much to me, no.” admitted Isley. “But I know she does not seek the Goddess’s love. I know she does not seek anything for the benefit of mankind. I have observed that Celacia is a person all her own, with duties and oaths sworn upon bygone ages that we are not privy to. She seeks something here, in your lands, and I believe that is nothing less than a new age for herself and her master, Darkendrog. Your hammer is an object of her own age. It is a relic of her own past. As such, she needs it for her own desires.”

  Balin raised an eyebrow. “Then tell me, Saint Isley, if you believe what you have said, why would you have aligned yourself with her in the first place?”

  Isley regarded Balin for a moment and then said, “Because I too seek to herald a new age. It is true that many Saints today have lost their way. I believe Sanctuary has lost its way as well. There are, however, a small few of us who still believe in our duty. A smaller few of us are inclined to fulfill our duty, even if that means betraying Holy Father.”

  “And what of your allies that followed you here?” asked Balin. “Do they, like you, seek to fulfill their duty?”

  Isley paused, thoughts of the other Saints coursing through his mind. He looked up at Egret briefly and said, “Lord Egret is wise to have chosen me as his lieutenant. Of the fellow Saints who followed me here, only I am inclined to see my duty to Aeoria fulfilled.”

  There was some hushed murmurs from the table. Balin raised an eyebrow and asked, “So, your companions cannot be trusted?”

  Isley’s silver eyes gleamed as he looked into Balin’s own. “For your purposes, Umbrial, Tia, Gamalael and Arric can be trusted and shall be loyal. Lord Tarquin shall make an excellent commander for your new Saints Alliance. Of them all, the only one who is dangerous to you is Nuriel.”

  “She was your apprentice.” remarked Balin, cocking his head. “You do not think highly of your own student?”

  “The others don’t care one way or another if the Goddess is awoken.” said Isley. “They are the stock and store of Sanctuary. They have lost their way. But Nuriel is devout. Nuriel’s heart and soul belong to Sanctuary.”

  “You speak in circles that Celacia would find admirable.” said Balin with some disgust. “You tell us that only you are inclined to see your duty through, tell us that Nuriel is dangerous, and now tell us that she is devout like yourself?”

  Isley’s eyes narrowed. “Y
ou’re not listening. I did not say she is devout like myself. I told you that only I am inclined to see my duty to the Goddess through. Nuriel’s devotion is unequivocally to Sanctuary. And for that she is more dangerous than I can explain to you.”

  Balin looked at the Council and leaned over the table as they all began exchanging frantic whispers.

  Isley could see that none of them would understand his words. Of all the men in Duroton, only Egret shared the same responsibility to duty as he, and only Egret would ever understand him. Isley thought it a blessing from the Goddess that Egret had chosen him.

  “All this Council needs to understand is that Saint Isley’s purpose aligns with my own.” said Lord Egret. “Neither of us shall see Celacia herald the final age into this world so long as a single star remains in the sky.”

  Balin stood back up from the table and pinched at his forehead. He looked at Isley with some exasperation, a sentiment that seemed to be shared with all the Councilmen, and sighed. “Why does Celacia trust you then?” asked Balin. “If you are against her, why does she trust you? Celacia does not seem prone to being duped.”

  “I was there when Celacia was unearthed.” said Isley. “Deep in the earth, in the Womb of the World.”

  “We have heard the tales of the Womb of the World.” said Balin. “It is said that it is a bottomless void that leads to the heart of the world. The legends say that from that pit were born the Dragon Kings of the First Age.”

  “I know not of the tales you speak, for they are not taught to us at Sanctuary.” said Isley. “But I can say that it is a pit vast and deep and none have ever seen its bottom. I can also tell you there are areas of that pit rich with gems and King Gatima has his men ceaselessly mining it. The miners hang from outcroppings and rocky shelves, dangling above the bottomless void as they work the sheer walls, pulling stones from it. I was there to oversee the mines, to make sure thieves did not steal away with any riches.

  “One day I heard the cry of men. Terrified screams. I came to see what was the matter. There was an outcropping of stone, a large shelf of rock. Upon this shelf there was a small crater, and as the men waved their torches, the body of a woman could be seen within it. She was beautiful, in black armor, and she appeared to be sleeping. I thought she was a Saint. It was like she was entombed in the stone. As if she had fallen upon that shelf long ago and over the ages the very stone had begun to swallow her.” Isley looked at the Council. “The stone did swallow her. The woman at the bottom was Celacia. She had laid upon that floor for so many ages that her aura had slowly crumbled the stone from her body and she sank inch by inch into it. The men tried to pull her out, but those who got too close to her died, withering before our very eyes.

  “It was I who pulled her out. My hands burned with pain as I held her body, and I had to shine my Caliber so brightly to withstand it that the entire pit was aglow in my light. It was my Caliber’s strength that woke her. She came to and seemed very confused. In her confusion her deathly aura flared, stone crumbled and all the miners with me died. Despite the pain of being so close to her, I spoke words of comfort and slowly she calmed down. There was something about her. She seemed familiar to me, like a person I should know. At first I thought she was a fellow Saint, but it quickly became apparent to me that she was something entirely different. Her stellaglyph was odd, but yet seemed familiar. I cannot tell you why, but I knew she was somebody special. She was somebody important. And in my heart I knew that it was the will of Aeoria for me to find her.

  “I took her from that pit and stayed with her many days. She told me very little of herself, and I could never glean enough information from her to determine who or what she was. I knew she was not of our age. She was puzzled by this world. Disheartened by it, even. At night she would look to the starless skies and she would weep, calling out the name Darkendrog. It was as if she could see something in the heavens that I could not. Then one day she told me that she had some things that she had to do; things she had to learn. And we parted ways.

  “I returned to Gatimaria. I told Gatima that there had been an accident in the mines and that many of his men had died. He reassigned me to other jobs and then one day, out of the blue, Celacia came back. She had sought me out. She was different now. More certain of things. I did not know where she had gone or what she had done. I have since learned from Egret that she had come here and was living in the Stellarium, but I also have reason to believe she went to Sanctuary and may have secretly secured the loyalty of some Saints there.”

  Balin pursed his lips and nodded. “We too believe as much. It’s hard to gauge anything from her. As you are aware, Saint Isley, Celacia is quite secretive.”

  “She is.” said Isley.

  “He’s blathering on again.” growled Gefjon, throwing up a hand. “Get to your point! Answer the question! Why does she trust you?” There were some murmurs of agreement across the table.

  Balin looked at Isley. “So you’re saying that Celacia trusts you because you were the one who awakened her?”

  Isley looked at Balin, feeling his own patience running thin. “That’s not it at all. She trusts me because I promised her I would see her dead.”

  Hands flew up in the air and the table erupted with angry comments. Balin himself buried his face in his hands before he looked at Egret and said, “Lord Egret, your lieutenant is wearing on this Council’s patience. At this point, I fear we have little recourse other than to—”

  The door to the Council room swung in with such force that it slammed hard against the wall. Lord Tarquin strode in. His black shroud did little to conceal how dirty and weary he was. He stank of smoke, and Isley thought, blood. Tension gripped the room as Tarquin became aware of Egret and Saint Isley. His face dissolved into a terrible scowl and he cast menacing eyes upon Isley. Beneath his shroud, Isley could see that his hand went for his sword.

  “Lord Tarquin,” said Egret, giving the slightest of bows. “You are in Council, not war.”

  Balin’s face was pale and the entire Council quiet and just as white in the face as he. Balin composed himself as best he could and said, “Lord Tarquin, you’ve returned much earlier than expected.”

  Tarquin kept his hateful eyes on Isley for a moment longer before peeling his gaze away and to Balin. “We have to talk. Now.”

  Balin licked his lips. “Understood.” He looked at Egret and Isley. “You are dismissed, Lord Egret and Saint Isley. We thank you for your council.”

  Egret and Isley both bowed slightly before turning and stalking out the door. After it had clicked shut behind them Tarquin turned to Balin and said, “We have a huge problem. That Saint Nuriel went crazy. The bitch turned on us. She killed all the others and nearly me as well.”

  Balin’s face went even whiter and his hand began rubbing nervously at his cheeks. From the table the Councilmen all looked at each other in stunned silence. Balin’s cheeks balled out as he blew out his breath and ran a hand through his hair. “Are there any survivors?”

  “No Saints but plenty of Icelanders.” said Tarquin, then more venomously added, “I was promised loyal Saints.”

  “What about the soldiers we sent with you?” asked Jord.

  “They’re holding just off the shores of the Crashingstones,” said Tarquin. “I used Whisper to get back here quickly.” He fixed his dark eyes on Balin. “This is no good.”

  Balin grimaced. “What about this Nuriel? Did you kill her?”

  “No.” said Tarquin bitterly. “That crazy bitch turned on us. Started freaking out and killed her companions. I tried to stop her but by that point I had exhausted too much of my power. There was no way I could face her. Those Saints are quick.”

  “This is no good,” said Gefjon, shaking his head nervously. “This is no good at all. If word gets out…”

  A rush of panic gripped the Councilmen. They started throwing about all manner of frenzied ideas and conspiracies to cover their tracks. Chaos began to seize the Council when Balin finally composed himself and
raised his hands and said loudly, “Order! Order!” The voices died down and Balin continued. “Celacia will be here tomorrow morning. We’ll have her clean this up. This is partially her mess.”

  “But what about the Icelanders?” shot Aldur. “We have to act now. We can’t let this go any longer. They could already be sending quick-hounds out. If word gets out that we sent an attack—”

  “Send ships!” shot Gefjon. “Lord Tarquin, take a full legion and scour the Icelands. We can’t delay this.”

  “I concur with Gefjon,” said Jord. “Lord Tarquin has to go back immediately and finish this.”

  Once again the Council fell into a chaos of men talking over each other. Balin tried to call order again but the door to the room swung open and Dagrir stepped in. He wore his lacquered black armor that was etched in silver with intricate patterns of phoenixes, and a crimson cape bearing the crest of Duroton. He looked upon the panicked Councilmen with some amusement as he shut the door. Their voices all died down, but their faces were white as ever. “Is everything all right in here?” asked Dagrir.

  “Your Grace,” said Balin, bowing. Tarquin followed suit, and all the other Councilmen stood and bowed before taking their seats again. “We did not expect you this morning.”

  “To be honest, I did not intend to join. My father wanted me to pop in and see how we’re coming along with finding a phoenix egg.” said Dagrir. He looked at Tarquin. “I was hoping to find Egret and Isley here, but it seems you’re all onto far more interesting topics.”

  Balin inhaled deeply and cast a quick glance at his fellow Councilmen. He turned back to Dagrir. “Your Grace,” he said. “It’s quite fortunate you stopped in. There seems to be an issue, and as you are Council of War, this is a matter entirely in your hands.”

  Dagrir’s brow furled with puzzlement, then his face suddenly melted into something more like exasperation and he pursed his lips, shaking his head. “It’s my brother, isn’t it?” he exhaled loudly. “Please don’t tell me he’s done something stupid like declared war on us.”