The Holtur Enigma (The Holtur Trilogy)

by Cameron Wayne Smith

“You are! Much more heroic than any other northern bureaucrat I’ve had the displeasure of meeting!” Volk smiled. “Besides, I don’t want to see you get your face stomped to the curb.”

  “Stomped to the curb?” If there was any sign of heroism seeping from Vivian, it was short lived.

  “Don’t worry Vivian.” Rigst threw Kallum over his shoulder and gave a thumbs up. “I’ll give you a good wrap.”

  “I had better get this cadaver over to the Bristrunstium.” Volk looked down into the big black eyes of the dead shroud, then up to the sky. “I don’t think his skin will last long in direct sunlight.”

  “And I better get Kallum home,” Rigst added. “If you do visit that building, just be gentle around the kuhvi, and don’t startle them.” He then turned and began to walk back towards town.

  Knoch pointed a finger at Vivian. “And watch out for those kuhvi patties. I gotta head over to the tavern, fast. Gotta get me three ales.”

  “Three ales?” Vivian questioned the odd number.

  Knoch seemed somewhat distraught, but managed to summon a light grin. “One for Lou, one for Greg, and one for Grant.”

  “I’m sorry…”

  “Don’t be.” Knoch forced the sadness from his face, then managed a grin. “We’re slayers, it comes with the job. All we can do now is honour their sacrifice.”

  “Honour them well.” Vivian waved, then turned back towards the building in the distance. His first step almost landed him in a massive pile of dung. He shifted his foot out of the way, deciding to be more cautious for the rest of the walk.

  ***

  The white stone building was a lot further away than he had expected. It was tall and narrow with a pointed roof, the sort of thing Vivian was used to finding a congregation of worshippers within. He brought his knuckles up to knock on the tall wooden door. With each knock, it slightly pushed open.

  “Hello?” Vivian called out to whoever was in the building.

  “Why yes,” a voice responded, pulling the door further open. “Hello there.”

  “Hi, my name is Vivian Patressi,” he said, hurrying his hands deep in his pockets. “I was asking a friend about the marked and Glacious, then he told me to come here.”

  The man popped his bald head into view, and Vivian was astonished to see a deep gash across his forehead. He had wild grey hairs sticking out from his temples, all the way around to the back of his head. “You aren’t from around here, are you?” he asked, looking a little annoyed for a moment. His expression quickly morphed into a smile, and he reached out his hand. “My name is Jansen Mosser.”

  “You are correct, I am not from these parts. I come from Silverton.” Vivian was hoping it wouldn’t come to it, but he held his breath and reached for the offered hand. He was preparing for pain, but to his pleasant surprise, Jansen gave a wet fish of a handshake, even by city standards. “Oh thank you.”

  Jansen looked curious at the visitor. “Frightened of handshakes are you?”

  “No,” Vivian spoke without thinking. The vicious grip he was used to from the Holtur people then crushed his hand.

  “Hilda, boil the kettle. We have visitors.” Jansen had turned away, unable to see the grimace on his guest’s face. After the handshake he turned back to Vivian. “We don’t get visitors all that often!”

  “Why is that?” Vivian questioned.

  Jansen gestured for Vivian to enter. “For starters, not too many people visit Holtur. Why would those rare visitors wish to venture into the middle of a kuhvi paddock?”

  Vivian was unsure if he was asking him directly or in rhetoric. Briefly thinking about why he was here in Holtur, he couldn’t quite understand why he walked all the way out through the paddocks himself. It wasn’t going to help Silverton, it wasn’t going to stop the serpents. “I don’t know…” he reluctantly admitted. “I was curious, with all the problems the town has, why do they fear the marked? Is it simply because they belong to a god named Glacious?”

  “Correct.” Jansen nodded, then began walking down the corridor of the building. “Come, have some tea.”

  Vivian still had no idea what any of this meant, but after the moons he had endured, a cup of tea sounded quite inviting. He followed the stocky man as he limped down the corridor, taking opportunity to look around the building. He had assumed that it would house multiple stories, but once inside, discovered that the inner roof was just really high up. The narrow hall had evenly spaced bedrooms on either side, indicating quite a few people must reside here.

  “Oh, hello,” a chubby lady with blonde pigtails warmly greeted. She too had a similar scar on her forehead. “My name is Hilda.”

  “Hello.” Vivian nodded, then walked into the large dining room at the end of the building. “How many people reside here?”

  “Including Hilda and myself, there are eighteen Glacious’ divine ones.” Jansen sat at the head of the table. “The others are working the paddocks, caring for the kuhvi, more specifically, the marked.”

  “Oh, I did see a few people working the paddocks.” Vivian remembered passing by a few strong young farmers. “That’s pretty impressive though, eighteen people caring for that entire herd?”

  “It’s Glacious’ will.” Hilda placed three cups out on the table, then sat down.

  “Sit, please, enjoy your tea.” Jansen gestured to the seat beside him, opposite Hilda.

  “Thank you.” Vivian sat down and reached for the beverage. The warmth of the white porcelain cup was a lovely change from the cold he had been enduring. “So the marked, you sacrifice them to Glacious? How do you go about it?”

  “Glacious consumes them,” Jansen said with incredible bluntness. It was not what Vivian was used to hearing from worshippers, especially those labelled as a cult. “Then Glacious marks new kuhvi for the following year.”

  “So Glacious… is it a god or a physical being?”

  “Both.”

  He accidentally spat out some of his tea. “Both?” Vivian was terrified at the thought. He had never heard of gods doubling as physical beings, he had always thought them hard to believe in. Entities requiring worship, and in turn rewarding said worship with small miracles or abilities, just seemed outrageous. That being said, if one of those gods knocked on his door and demanded his worship, it would probably be a different story.

  “Yes, both.” Jansen gestured for Hilda to clean the tea Vivian had sprayed. “The coming of Glacious marks the frozen suns, the most intense part of our cold season. He consumes the marked, then after a period of frozen suns, the warmer suns return.”

  “What if the marked were sacrificed sooner?” Vivian theorized a swift end to the cold. “Would the warmer suns return quicker?”

  “It’s not that simple outsider.” Jansen shook his head. “You harm the marked, you become the marked.”

  “Glacious will eat humans?” Vivian suddenly understood their behaviour when fleeing the shroud, the care they had taken while travelling among the marked. He was unsure if this entity was indeed a god, or just an incredibly powerful creature. If it was mortal though, it would have to be something beyond his comprehension to strike fear into the people of Holtur—to make even the shroud watch their step.

  “We used to be Glacious’ primary food source,” Jansen admitted, “a long, long time ago, before the forming of Glacious’ divine ones.”

  “You worship a being who used to consume you?” Vivian was finding it more difficult to come to terms with what Glacious was.

  “Back then if you were marked, it was seen as an honour,” Jansen explained. “No one could stop themselves from being marked. Back then it meant you had a year to live, but you were given whatever you wanted by the unmarked. Beasts and monsters wouldn’t dare attack you either, not even a wyvern—deep in blood lust—would bare its fangs in your presence. Nothing has changed with the way the marked are treated, only now, they are kuhvi, not human.”

  “Why did Glacious stop marking humans?” Vivian had seen what the people of Holtur were capable
of. Perhaps deep down, Glacious had sensed his demise if he continued to terrorise them.

  “It all started with one marked man, a man with a vision.” Jansen’s eyes widened. “He had a young family and hated the thought of leaving them, all because he had been chosen for sacrifice. Rather than spending his final year enjoying the benefits that came with being marked, he went about bringing his vision to life. A vision that no marked man shall ever be consumed by Glacious again! He and his wife worked, and they worked hard. Through suns and moons, rain and snow, they turned a tiny kuhvi farm into the fields you see today. He wouldn’t allow anyone to take or consume the beasts, demanding them as his right for being marked. His plan, was to trade them to Glacious, in exchange for his life. To show that he could offer so much more if he was allowed to live.”

  “Sounds like he would have been seen as quite a selfish man back then?” Vivian thought out aloud. “What, being someone to revoke another’s ability to consume good quality beasts.”

  “He wasn’t popular with the people of Holtur, no.” Jansen took a sip of his tea. “Not until Glacious’ next visit anyway. Glacious came before this very building to claim the marked man. He walked out into the field with his wife and children. As the immense maw of the creature descended through the skies upon him, he told Glacious of what he had done, and that the field of kuhvi were his for the taking, if he and his family were spared.”

  “What happened?” Vivian was on the edge of his seat.

  “He was spared.” Jansen then pointed to the scar on his forehead. “Then his family, along with many of his kuhvi, were marked. He never took the marked humans, provided they lived here and watch after his marked kuhvi. Glacious still occasionally marks humans, but not for food. Glacious does so, and they become his divine ones, people who care for his kuhvi.”

  “Thank you for kindly sharing all that with me.” Vivian poured the last of the warm tea into his mouth. He still didn’t know if that information would help him at all, but assumed he had been away from Holtur long enough for the Bluwahlts’ anger towards him to subside. “I should probably head back to town shortly. I need to sort out some business before returning to Silverton.”

  “And what is your business?” Jansen asked with genuine interest.

  “I came here to conscript slayers to assist Silverton defeat a horde of serpents.” He hadn’t yet found anyone willing to return to Silverton with him, if only he could force them with a mark.

  “Holtur was probably not the best place to come for that,” Jansen informed. “How’s that all going for you?”

  “Terrible.” Vivian had heard this place had some of the greatest slayers around, the more he understood why, the more he understood their reluctance to leave.

  “Well I wish you all the best.” Jansen stood up, preparing to walk his guest out. “If you ever want to change your path, and have the urge to care for our kuhvi, you are always welcome.”

  Vivian followed Jansen towards the entrance. “Thank you, I’ll keep that in mind.”

  “Your visit has been a pleasure,” Hilda said with a wave. “May Glacious be with you.”

  Walking out the door, Vivian pondered whether Glacious being with him would be a good or a bad thing, but smiled all the same. “Thank you,” he responded.

  ***

  The walk back through the paddocks seemed faster than before. Vivian feared the kuhvi a lot less now, and he didn’t alter his direction to avoid them this time. Still, whatever this Glacious thing was, must be something terrifying. He hoped he’d be well and truly on his way back to Silverton by the time the frozen suns were to commence.

  Vivian was feeling calm, which may have been a first since arriving in Holtur. He wondered if the place was somehow boosting his confidence. A booming roar echoing off the mountains shattered those thoughts, it sounded just like the wyvern that had attacked him and the merchants on the way to Holtur.

  The roar was followed up by a deathly screech of something else, something bigger. The wyvern’s roar could be heard again, but this time it was different, higher pitched and filled with fear.

  Vivian began to sprint towards the Holtur walls. His confidence wasn’t quite ready to stare into the face of that creature. Not a creature that could strike fear into a wyvern.

  Chapter 7: Eye of Desecration

  By the time Vivian had made it safely within the walls of Holtur, the wyvern’s deep roars were sounding closer and closer. The noises it released were nothing like the deafening roars of its blood lust. They sounded much more fearful, much more desperate. He was happy to know that the creature that killed Marrozte, and all the merchants he had been travelling with, was finally being hunted itself. He would be happy indeed, provided the predator had no interest in harming Vivian himself.

  He pondered whether he should make his way to the north gate of Holtur, to watch whatever was happening as it unfolded. Or alternatively, stay away from the monsters, and Sonja. It mattered little; the wyvern crashed into the ground before him. Its roar had completely faded from its vocabulary now, all it could mutter were hopeless yelps.

  People began scattering from the clearing. They were screaming down alleyways, hiding within buildings to escape the creature. Vivian too, backed away, his eyes scanning the skies for whatever was coming. He wondered if this was a trick, if it was playing injured to get close to its prey. The stone wyvern looked at him, its eyes screaming with fear.

  Vivian swiftly brought his hands up to his ears, but they couldn’t muffle the noise. With a powerful beat of its wings the wyvern took to the sky once more. Its journey—and life—cut short, as a thin, long, black spear shot through the sky, skewering it from head to tail. It was frozen mid-air, not moving at all. Reducing the powerful creature into something more like what a street vendor would serve, only much larger, and much more reptilian.

  It was impossible to see from where Vivian was standing what was holding the spear. There were too many buildings in the way. Dull blue tentacles began snaking their way towards the wyvern, chased by a grainy, grey body. Four large dark wings were keeping whatever it was afloat in the sky. Once it got closer to its prey, four long snake-like claws latched onto the wyvern, pulling chunks from the paralysed corpse.

  “What in the world is that?” Vivian mumbled under his breath. It looked as though parts of the most frightening beings he had ever seen were stuck together, creating this collage of what formed the horror above him.

  “Vivian, get in here,” a man called out from a nearby open door. “Get in here now!”

  Vivian nodded, then ghosted swiftly and softly into the building. He recognised the man, Axel, one of the first slayers he met when he arrived. “What is that?”

  “It’s the Eye of Desecration,” Axel whispered. “We just need to hope the wyvern satisfies its hunger, and it moves on afterwards.”

  “And if it doesn’t?”

  “People will die…” Axel sighed. “We can’t defeat that thing, trust me we’ve tried.”

  “It’s been here before?” Vivian began to wonder how excited this thing would make Kallum.

  “It comes before Glacious every year, and every year it gets bigger…” Axel grimaced. They both looked out the window, noticing that the wyvern was wrapped in tentacles now.

  “There must be a way to stop it,” Vivian spoke with urgency. “Where does it live, where did it come from?”

  “I don’t know…” Axel backed away from the window to check on his family. They were hiding in the adjacent room. “You’re welcome to take shelter with us until it departs though.”

  “Wait until it departs?” Vivian muttered under his breath. “I think I need to find Kallum. If there’s any way to stop that thing, he’d know!”

  “What’s with this monster slaying attitude?” Axel tilted his head. “It’s nice to see, but a couple of suns ago you were frightened of mere grabion.”

  “I’ve seen enough people die over the last few suns,” Vivian said with a shrug. “I just want it to
stop.”

  Axel nodded. “That’s beautiful, but I don’t think anyone—even Sonja’s little brother—would have any clue on how to stop that thing.”

  “I’m still going to find ou—” A loud crashing noise interrupted Vivian’s heroic speech.

  “Sounds like it’s hungry,” Axel warned, watching Vivian race over to the window.

  “It’s a complete horror…” Vivian was watching the creature, having difficulty looking away. Its four wings allowed it to maneuverer in precise bursts. The limbs which protruded from its torso seemed to have a life of their own. They were crashing into—and biting through—the brick and stone of a residence across the clearing.

  “It’s like nothing of this world,” Axel agreed. “Listen, if you are still going to try and make it to the Bluwahlt residence, don’t look back. No matter what, avoid eye contact with that thing.”

  “I’ll make it there.” Vivian jumped up and down on the spot, then began stretching his arms. “I’ve been through too much to fail now!”

  Axel shook his head. “Alright then, leave anything of value and weight here. You don’t want anything dragging you down.”

  Vivian removed the large fur coat that Kallum had given him, then threw it over a nearby chair. He lunged down into a stretch and looked back up at the large man. “Anything else?”

  A laugh broke through Axel’s frightened face. “Yeah, you need to know that you’re bloody mad!”

  “Here goes!” Vivian reached for the door.

  “Wait!” Axel grabbed him by the shoulders. “I’ll watch from the window, go on my signal.”

  Vivian nodded. “Good idea.”

  “It’s quiet, so the thing is probably feeding.” Axel slowly edged with his back against the wall towards to the window. He twisted around to look out of it, then completely froze.

  “Where is it Axel?” Vivian whispered.

  No response was needed, the terrified expression upon Axel’s face said it all. His face continued to twist as he tracked the creature. He froze again, released a bloodcurdling scream, followed by that black spear. The window shattered, and glass tore through his body. Tentacles made their way around the body, while the limbs begun smashing on the outside of the building.