The Book of Ominiue: Starborn

by D. M. Barnham

  ‘How do they perform such miracles?’ Day’kídan mused. ‘Do they hold magic?’

  ‘Not from what I can see. They have been very polite but I cannot help but feel that they think the wizards and dragons are nothing more than children’s stories.’

  ‘They do not have dragons?’ Tal’dorfin flinched slightly at the thought.

  ‘They had cub stories which resemble dragons, but no they do not.’

  ‘Then they must have had a failing too,’ Tal’dorfin reasoned, ‘and the stories lost to children’s fantasy.’

  ‘But they do not have Fa’Orian either, or Afradian. They only have themselves,’ Kíe looked troubled. ‘Something feels like it is missing.’ He sat there a moment as he pondered; a slight shiver ran down his back.

  Dun’karter topped his cup with the last of the brew as he spoke, ‘Well, if this Ta’Orian is the Afrada ala Hama, as Níurthan believes him to be then you would expect something to be a miss.’ The old lionman smiled as he brought the cup to his mouth and took a sip. ‘After all, these are the beginnings of a great change. What change is that I ask myself? Only time can tell, best to let the events take their course.’

  ‘Have they told you what areas of education are promised?’ Dun’karter spoke after a brief pause. ‘Is there anything to further our Shingah knowledge?’

  ‘Afra’hama is a master himself,’ Kíe informed. ‘We have spoken a little of his field. It sounds to me that it is the science of wizards.’

  ‘Are they willing to share?’ Day’kídan asked. Many of the advanced wizard sciences were held as secrets; only taught to the bright and trustworthy within the college.

  ‘They are willing to provide all knowledge of sciences to us if we desire them. They will also offer other forms of their education, but they seem a little reluctant in some of these.’

  ‘Like what exactly?’

  ‘From what I can gather anything that might influence our political and religious system. Health and education are their main offers,’ Kíe paused a moment. He squirmed a little as he tried to summon his bravery. ‘They also require Ambassadors.’

  ‘That is a logical step if they are planning to build a city. It would not be too difficult to fill.’ Day’kídan glanced across at the other UeShádarns.

  ‘They would like different ambassadors from different places; culture wise and faith. The ambassadors are expected to learn their language and live amongst them.’

  ‘As any ambassador is generally required to do,’ Day’kídan agreed. Kíe cleared his throat and spoke softly.

  ‘I was hoping that one of them could be me.’ The three UeShádarns looked across at Kíe with surprise.

  ‘Oh — Young Kíe,’ Dun’karter softly spoke. ‘You are still a journeyman; you have only completed your first year,’ he reasoned.

  ‘Yes,’ the young lionman admitted, ‘but the Star Ta’Orians will not be able to return home for ten years. I could spend that time apprenticed to the Afra’hama, or one of their other teachers, for they have many teachers there.’ Dun’karter did not look convinced.

  ‘What about your duties?’ he replied. ‘We cannot waive them.’

  ‘I have given that a lot of thought. I can travel to nearby villages and not neglect the Journeyman’s Oath.’

  ‘We have seen the places of interest for the re-settlement,’ Tal’dorfin commented, she tried to sound reasonable. ‘Many of the places are leagues away from the closest settlement. Chances are you would not be able to service the needs of the village and receive teaching from the Hama Ta’Orians.’

  ‘If that is the case then I can teach the Ta’Orians themselves. They are here to learn about us after all,’ Kíe looked at the three masters with an eagerness and desire that made them stumbled with their words, not wanting to put the young lionman down.

  ‘How about you give us time to discuss it?’ Dun’karter softly suggested, ‘and to possibly talk with the Afra’hama.’ Kíe grinned from ear-to-ear; he found it hard to contain himself and he fidgeted with excitement.

  ‘It is not a yes, journeyman,’ Day’kídan laughed. ‘It is but a consideration.’ Kíe nodded in understanding but still found it hard to contain his joy.

  ‘Now storyteller,’ Tal’dorfin motioned as she lay back and relaxed. ‘Tell us your story.’ Kíe then proceeded to tell them of his journey. From the moment they first saw the flying ships in the sky to when they set foot in the palace of Karmoníth.

  ***

  Shayne, Hanniver and the android were escorted by two Imperial Guards to the main hall where they were greeted by the priest steward Tellin’marda. She bowed low to them. Two other priests stood with her; both human.

  ‘Are you well rested and fed?’ she asked them. Hanniver displayed his contentment with a large and friendly grin. ‘Would you care to visit the temple now?’ she inquired.

  ‘We would be honoured,’ the Brigadier gestured with his hand to the main entrance of the round hall. The priests lead the way. The two Imperial Guards also followed, designated to protect and serve the Earthmen. Red Rocket happily trotted behind the Brigadier.

  The palace gates were opened today. Distinguished people and servants moved to and from the grounds; each checked in and out with the guardhouse. The Earthmen were allowed to skip the line, waved through by the guards as they noted their departure.

  The masses of people who were outside the gates on the day of their arrival were no longer present. Instead the region had returned to their original state of affairs. A small crowd grew as some of the natives recognised the Earthmen. Whenever they closed in too close one of the guards would step forward and order them back, which the locals would reluctantly obey for a brief time.

  As they passed some of the trees; with Red Rocket weaving happily though them, the temple became fully visible. It was an old building but not nearly as old as the rest of the city. It stood alone between the palace and the city; there were prayer gardens following along the building and a large paved festival gather area in front of it, for entertainment and public teachings. Garden beds followed the boundary, but all else was grass lawns; kept short and clean. Those who were not working often came of the Temples gardens to relax in the gather area, or on the grass, where they enjoyed the sunlight.

  Their footsteps rang with a faint echo as they set foot on the marble flooring of the religious building’s main entrance, the robot following close behind on the other hand clinked loudly with each step. Everything seemed to be made from white marble and sandstone. It was well lit and bright, not one corner was shadowed in darkness. The sound of a choir rang sweetly through the doors; the voices rose in seamless harmonies before falling to a single singer; his flawless voice echoing a tale of the first DragonLord. The main hall was filled with public seating for the natives to pray, beyond that rose the choirs, in high balconies that circled the room. The floor and walls were bare, with no adornment except the far end where five statues stood. Behind them the stone wall was carved into the shape of a great lion’s head; its mane flowed in a circular motion around its face and its mouth was open as if it issued a command. These figures were the only decoration in the entire building.

  The Earthmen made their way to the statues, all five were human; though they could have been Afradian; there was no way for the Earthmen to know the difference without someone telling them. One statue, on the far left, was a woman and the other four were male. The middle statue was raised higher than the others and was of an old bearded man with a great staff in one hand, his old frame peered powerfully into the distance.

  Shayne stopped in his tracks when he laid his eyes on the last statue on the right; he stood transfixed by the man who stood in stone before him, with his hand resting on the hilt of a sword and his head turned slightly to the side, gazing thoughtfully into the distance. His noble appearance and manner reflected in the stern look of a mighty warrior and commander. It is him, Shayne thought as he recognised the man from his dreams. There was no doubt, his short hair and chin
strap beard that had the thinnest of sideburns and thin moustache that reached down to meet the beard. Shayne was struck with a flood of images; so vivid that they momentarily overpowered his actual senses. The flashes of the man’s face as he turned to look at him, his ever smiling face and burning white eyes as he greeted Shayne in his dreams.

  ‘What is it?’ Hanniver asked Shayne, snapping him from the onslaught of images. He pulled himself away from the figure.

  ‘Nothing,’ Shayne replied and continued on, but he was shaken and every part of his intelligence was sent racing; trying to find an answer.

  ‘Who are the five men?’ Hanniver asked Tellin’marda, she looked fondly up at the white marbled figures.

  ‘They are the DragonLords,’ she said proudly. ‘They are the sacred, chosen to ride the great DragonGod Ominiue. This one,’ she pointed up at the central one, ‘is Lethagon the Great. He was the first to soul-forge with Ominiue and created the great dilemma.’

  ‘What dilemma?’

  ‘A mortal soul-forged with a God!’ Tellin’marda looked disapprovingly upon the humans; she did not expect them to know of her heroes but she would have thought they knew about such things from their own world, but their blank faces told her they did not. ‘When that occurs both lives are bound; both deaths. A god cannot forge with a mortal without being exposed to death. When Ominiue soul-forged with Lethagon he became mortal himself.’

  ‘What does soul-forged mean?’ Hanniver added. He had become confused, Kíe was always careful to try and simplify their myths for them.

  ‘You do not know what the Maltat is?’ Tellin’marda’s face sank with shock as she stared at both the humans.

  Shayne’s expression slightly shifted as he thought back, ‘We believed it was your native word for pet,’ he confessed. ‘An animal that a person adopts for his own, but by no means is special.’ He began to suspect days ago that a Maltat was not what he originally perceived them to be, the reactions and nature of the animals and natives revealed something a little odd.

  ‘Oh no!’ the priest’s eyes widened. ‘Maltat is from the Kadalian language. From Malí which is soul and Tatan which is bound. A Maltat is sacred, it is a companion, it is your soul and you are its; you both combine and become one being.

  ‘Is the strange striped dog not yours?’ she asked Hanniver as she pointed to the Tasmanian tiger.

  ‘No,’ the Brigadier informed, his face reddening slightly as understanding finally dawned upon him. ‘Red Rocket is merely an animal.’

  ‘Do you have Maltats?’ she asked, a look of horror falling upon her face.

  ‘We have never heard of such a thing,’ Shayne replied.

  The lionman priest could not comprehend this, she stammered as she continued in disbelief, ‘The Kéaran gave us the Maltat so we would never be alone. Someone who never has a Maltat is someone who is only half an Orian!’ she declared.

  ‘If that is true then why have we only seen some of these creatures with your people?’ Shayne reasoned. ‘It would be lucky to be ten-to-one ratio.’

  ‘Once, it was said, that every Orian had a Maltat, but those days seemed to have ended. Some people spend their entire lives searching for theirs,’ Tellin’marda confessed, ‘and some never gain theirs even though they may search, but we believe that they are out there and there is one to every person born.

  ‘The scholars believe the failing of the Great Ones damaged the link. Only a few Orians became Dragonriders, but afterwards the creatures of the soul also seemed to retreat. We know this as the sacred books tells us that it is rare for someone not to have a companion and it was not until Banadama that numbers fell.’

  ‘And what about the dragon god?’ Shayne returned to the statues. He wanted to know about the man from his dream. ‘You say the middle man is the Maltat to the dragon god?’

  ‘They all are,’ Tellin’marda said as she looked at all of the statues with pride. ‘Lethagon was the first. He separated both his and Ominiue’s soul and bound them to a sword; he then placed spells upon it so that it could never be destroyed. He did this so that when he eventually died Ominiue would not follow him, for a God cannot die.’

  ‘What happened after that?’

  ‘Not long after they fought one of the wars for Endaran and Lethagon was slain, Ominiue disappeared into the sword. He was bound for seven hundred years until the second DragonLord was chosen: Ballanal the Isradian,’ Tellin’marda pointed to the statue on the left of Lethgon; a solid and grim looking man. ‘Ominiue was then released and they ruled together until Ballanal was also slain, and so it was with all the DragonLords, until Anótole who last bore the great sword of Dahuna, the blade of Adarline.’

  ‘And where is the sword now?’ Shayne asked.

  ‘Lost,’ Tellin’marda simply said. She fell into a far reaching look, ‘along with Anótole, after he rode with the host from Banadama.’

  ‘Who is that one there?’ Shayne looked to the statue on the right, the one from his dreams.

  ‘That is Anótole,’ she said. Shayne looked upon the face for a moment. It was an exact likeness. He could not understand why this statue here of a man who lived two thousand years ago would be the exact man in his dreams; he began to doubt himself.

  After their visit Tellin’marda and the guards guided them back to the palace, there were several hundred people waiting outside the temple and more were coming as word spread. The guards demanded for the crowd to part and they obeyed, but as Shayne passed they slowly crowded in again; hands stretched out to touch his clothes and fur cloak. The guards warned the people off when they came too close; the group would drive themselves back only to gradually push in again.

  ***

  The UeVarda lay in his bed, but he was a restless soul by nature and despite the order for respite he was still trying to run his kingdom. He was propped up on a series of pillows, with letters and papers laid before him. The medical droid stood motionless besides a wall; out of the UeVarda’s way. It rested in a standby mode, though it was linked to the UeVarda and some of its memory was being used to monitor him. There were also four Imperial Guards present; two near the king’s bed and two by the doors. The Order steward was also present; he stood by the king, watching the lionman behind his mask. His cloak was now discarded; revealing a dark bandana that covered his head; faint scars could be seen behind his left ear and stretched a short way along his neck. Uncloaked, he revealed his bare dark tunic over a shirt of chainmail; he had plain black bracers with one side shielded by a piece of steel polished to perfection.

  Once upon a time he would never have made it passed the Imperial Shytarda in the hallway, let alone inside the royal room, but years of loyal service and a friendship that the king did not hold with any other person insured his position. He held a wisdom and ability to see through people’s intention and his counsel proved invaluable so eventually everyone came to trust him; even the naturally suspicious guards.

  The king sighed heavily as he let his hands fall to the bedding with a letter concerning something in his kingdom. The papers before him seemed trivial now that they were hosting the strange guests. It had only been a day since the star Ta’Orian doctor had seen him and already he seemed much healthier; his cough was still painfully persisted but its pitch was changing. His appetite was growing, but he still only ate a fraction of what he used to. The robot also administered the medicine when pain seemed to grip; this caused Níurthan concern, but the droid said it would take weeks before the king’s body repaired itself enough to relieve him.

  ‘Are you sure he is the one?’ the king asked his friend. ‘After all, the Hama Ta’Orians might be unmistakably from the prophecies, but their messenger could be any such soul. He may not even be amongst them yet.’

  ‘I hold no doubt that he is the one,’ The Kerwin monk softly replied.

  ‘So, after all these years it has begun,’ the king mused, he looked up at the man before him, ‘and you and I are a part of it. We are part of history now. Thousands of years from no
w, they will be singing about us, as they have of Vardas’ of old.’

  ‘I would be warier if I was you, my Lord,’ Níurthan cautioned; his expression grim.

  ‘I am sorry old friend,’ the king frowned. ‘I did not think.’

  ‘It is not your fault my lord, there was no harm intended.’

  ‘What is the Afra’hama doing today?’ he changed the subject.

  ‘He is visiting the temple,’ the human said. A slight curl developed on his lips and the UeVarda rolled his eyes.

  ‘Do not worry, anyone who knows better, knows that the tower and school are the true places of worship.’ Níurthan’s frown dissipated with those words. ‘I would very much like to talk with him, and the other Hama Ta’Orian.’

  ‘It can be arranged, but I do not think they should spend today with you. You should rest.’

  ‘But I have much work to do still,’ the UeVarda sighed, picking up a piece of paper from the bed.

  ‘Nothing that the council cannot handle,’ Níurthan gently added. ‘Days from now you will be presented with endless requests and letters. I can hear the drums roll from my room. They seem almost tireless in their messages.’ The UeVarda groaned. ‘Rest now my lord, and take up your work when you are better. None would think less of you for it,’ he motioned.

  ‘It is boredom I fight Kerwinite, not image,’ the king retorted. Níurthan bowed deeply and then raised his arms in the formal gesture of departure. The UeVarda returned the gesture; a sign that he saw the human as an equal. Níurthan took his cloak from a seat and wrapped it around himself; clasping the steel brooches before he raised his hood.

  ‘And here,’ the king said. ‘If you insist on doing my work then you should have these.’ He collected the papers on his bed and side table and handed them to the monk.

  ‘As you wish,’ Níurthan took the papers and gave a shallow bow before he left the room.