‘Your latest creations, Ezras, are they the honeyed beverages you so enjoy, or are they of a different vintage?’
‘Oh, Master Tristan,’ laughed Ezras heartily ‘I wouldn’t drink those, any of those... the results would be... well exciting to watch, to say the least, you would most certainly die spectacularly and perhaps everyone else in close proximity, but for those at safe distance... it would be that it might present an interesting spectacle.’
‘From the smell I guessed as much. Tell me more -I have an idea for which it or one of your other creations might be well-suited.’
The rest of the afternoon passed quickly as the two men plotted in hushed tones.
Chapter 15
High in the mountains surrounding Tolanis, Syrion was taking a moment of respite from his studies in order to watch the majestic creatures above him. Soaring on the thermals above were a pair of majestic dragons. Still juveniles by their size, but nonetheless awe inspiring to behold, Syrion marveled at them, the ease with which their powerful wings carried their tremendous bulk through the skies.
Such beauty was a regular occurrence in Tolanis. The last of the Dragonhost had made their homes in the mountains surrounding the Tolan. The two races lived in harmony so there was little need for the creatures to hide in caves as their ancestors once had. No citizen of Valaar was reckless enough to risk the wrath of either the Dragon Host or their Tolan allies.
Syrion was careful with his arts ensuring that he gave the majestic dragons a wide berth; it would be extremely perilous should one of his incantations be misconstrued as an attack. Syrion wondered at his powers, could they match the mighty beasts he saw before him?
Syrion would never desire such a conflict; his Astarii lineage gave him a strange sense for these incredible creatures. Each time he saw them, he thought of the dragon totem that moved playfully across his back. ‘Will I ever join them in the skies as Mother does with the wind?’ There were many questions and few answers, but oft times, a feeling deep within seemed to answer his longing.
Returning his gaze to the sky, Syrion discovered he had lost sight of the mighty drakes. He wondered if they often travelled far from these rugged peaks. If I could fly, Syrion thought, I’d certainly not spend my entire life staring at these same mountains. I would see the world.
‘So is that what you do up here, Syrion? Doze and daydream?’ The voice startled him from his reverie. Syrion tripped as he turned to face the source of his surprise. Standing only a few paces away was Althea- pronounced Alth-we - one of his few Tolan friends and a very beautiful friend at that. With glorious golden hair and eyes as blue as sapphires, she took his breath away.
Syrion stammered as he tried to regain his footing, ‘Not at all... I’ve been practicing all morning.’
‘Practicing your spells? Or staring googly-eyed at the dragon host?’
‘I was here when they flew over, I wasn’t stalking them,’ Syrion defended himself hastily, knowing that the Tolan frowned on any outsiders drawing too near their draconian guardians. Althea broke into a wide grin, ‘I’m kidding, Syrion, relax! After all, if they had a problem with you, I’m sure they would have burnt you to cinders by now.’
‘They don’t really do that... do they?’Syrion asked concerned.
‘You may have noticed we do not get many guests up here, and well... the Host certainly don’t seem to be starving, but hey your guess is as good as mine.’ She laughed again, seeming to take great pleasure in his discomfort.
‘Breathe, Syrion. I’m only kidding -you could not be safer, providing you do not provoke them.’ Changing tack, she asked, ‘Show me what you have been working on?’
‘Well, I have been trying to master the different elements in the world around us.’ Taking confidence in her interest, Syrion pressed on, ‘Fire, for example, has always come easily to me, but mastering the results has taken some work. Would you like to see?’
‘Sure,’ Althea answered; her curiosity piqued.
Checking the skies to ensure the Dragons were long gone, Syrion raised a hand and conjured a ball of flames. The flames boiled and coalesced as they moved around the sphere. Sneaking a quick sideways glance at Althea to ensure he has her attention, Syrion hurled the inferno into the sky. As soon as the fireball cleared the treetops it increased in size dramatically, its shape changing as it grew. Soon it resembled a great fire drake soaring through the open sky before dissipating some distance away.
‘You do have dragons on the brain don’t you, Syrion,’ Althea teased.
‘Do you not see them in the sky and admire their beauty?’ Syrion asked earnestly.
Althea smiled, ‘Beauty you say?’ What do you know of beauty? Your fireworks were impressive certainly, but can you show me something beautiful?’
‘Beautiful, hmm?’ Syrion mused out loud. Althea nodded expectantly. Pondering for a moment, Syrion smiled as he stretched out his hands; a light breeze blew through the clearing dislodging leaf litter and soil and blowing them about. Cupping his hands, Syrion waited for the wind to do his bidding. In moments he had a mountain of leaves and soil in his hands. A thought stilled the wind and Syrion could see Althea standing slightly disheveled from the sudden wind and looking distinctly unimpressed. ‘All that noise and nonsense for a pile of dirt?’ she asked clearly perturbed as she brushed stray leaves from her dress.
‘Patience is a virtue, Althea. That was for what is within the dirt.’ Syrion answered closing his hands tightly together. There are more than enough, thought Syrion as he felt the life hidden in the seemingly dead litter. With a thought he bid them grow, slowly at first but accelerated by his powers, a beautiful bunch of Kerena flowers soon burst from his cupped hands. Their red and white bulbs drinking in the sunlight for the first time as their buds opened and bloomed before her eyes. ‘For you, Milady,’ Syrion smiled as he offered the bouquet of wild flowers to a startled Althea.
‘How did you do that?’ Althea asked with childlike glee as she accepted the unexpected gift. Syrion smiled feeling just a little pleased with his success. ‘In the summer this place is covered with Kerena blossoms. They wilt and die in the winter frosts. As they do, they drop their seeds which in turn sprout in the spring and flower when summer warms the mountains once more.’
‘But the winter frosts are barely passed…How did you make them blossom from a seed so quickly?’
‘I’m afraid that I cannot tell you.’
‘Why not?’
‘If I did tell you, there would be no mystery, and with no mystery, you would have less reason to visit me.’
The remark caused her to turn a shade similar to the Kerena blossoms she was holding. Feeling the color rising in her cheeks she became very self-conscious.
‘You mustn’t say such things, Syrion; if the elders were to hear you they might cast you out of Tolanis.’
‘For talking of mysteries?’ Syrion asked, hoping to lighten the mood.
‘Yes...I mean no... You know what I mean,’ Althea answered, struggling to voice her thoughts for fear that to do so might make them occur.
‘I’m not entirely sure that I do,’ answered Syrion rather unhelpfully.
‘I see the way you look at me, Syrion. You must know by now that the Tolan do not join themselves to outsiders, even ones that have lived here all their life.’
Syrion’s face fell, ‘If that is so, why do you still visit me, Althea? You must know how I feel. Do not the Elders frown upon that also?’
‘I cannot help how I feel,’ Althea answered defensively. ‘I only know that when I am with you, I hope for a different future to what I had once imagined.’
Syrion nodded, ‘Perhaps that future is closer than you believe. Our world is changing, Althea; perhaps the Tolan will change with it.’
‘The Tolan have not changed in a thousand years, but I can hope,’ she answered, still clutching her bouquet of Kerena blossoms as she ran from the clearing and disappeared into the woods.
Syrion pondered on her words as he wrestled
with the elements. Would tradition truly stand in the way of their love? The thought gnawed at his soul causing constant frustration. As an Astarii, I can bend the elements to my will, with a thought I can kindle a firestorm or split the earth, am I really powerless before the backwards traditions of an ancient people. This conundrum wore on his nerves.
Locked so deep in thought, Syrion did not notice his mother’s approach. ‘What worries you, my son? You seem to have the weight of a world on your shoulders.’
Startled, Syrion turned to greet his mother. ‘Oh it’s nothing, Mother, just a little weary that is all.’
‘I don’t believe you for a moment,’ laughed Elaina, her melodious tones drawing Syrion from his reverie. ‘I have never seen you like this; tell me what the matter is. I will wait all night if need be.’
‘It’s the Tolan,’ answered Syrion.
‘All of the Tolan or just one in particular?’ Elaina asked with a knowing smile.
‘Well, it started with one of them, but the more I think about it the more frustrated I am with all of them.’
‘Which of their fair maidens pains you so?’
‘How did you know it was a maiden? Syrion asked surprised as always at his mother’s intuition. ‘Were you spying on us? I thought I felt a breeze.’
Elaina laughed so hard she almost fell over, ‘I would never spy on you, Syrion. There are a few reasons I presumed it was a maiden. Firstly, you look how I felt when I first met your father years ago. Secondly, I thought your reaction would give you away and it has. Lastly, I figured if some poor Tolan lad was tormenting you, you would have reduced him to cinders by now and we’d be having this conversation before the Elders of Tolanis.’ The last point bought a laugh from Syrion as well as he heard the truth in it. Most of the Tolan gave him a wide berth unsure just how they should interact with the outsider -most figured they would simply keep their distance.
‘Mother?’
‘Yes, dear?’
‘How did you overcome millennia of Astarii tradition to marry my father?
‘I didn’t.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘The Astarii never forgave my decision, I paid the price of breaking tradition and have lived in exile ever since.’
‘Do you wish that you could go back?’
‘Often, as our home is something amazing to behold.’
‘Do you ever regret leaving?’
Looking at her son she smiled all the wider. ‘No, the joy I’ve gained has relieved my sorrow many fold. I would not change a thing.’
‘Do you think I will have the same chance?’
‘Yes, as will she, Syrion, but you cannot make the choice for both of you. You must be patient with her. In the meantime, we need to talk.’
‘About what?’
‘About you and your token.’
‘What about it?’
‘There are some things you need to know.’
Elaina gestured for Syrion to sit down as she sat down on a nearby stone.
‘There is more you should know of our forefather’s, the first of the Astarii. When they rose up in rebellion against the Allfather and sought the Throne of Heaven, there was one among them who bore the dragon’s mark as you do. Amongst the eldest of the Astarii he was a being of great power and ability, before him the enemies of Creation trembled in fear. Even the Great Enemy retreated before his might, or so it seemed.
In his wrath he would take the form of a great black dragon whose wings would block out the sun as he rained fire on those who sought to wage war on his masters. Amongst the guardians of Creation few were held in as high esteem and awe as he was.
Then something changed. Deep within the Servant of Heaven a poison took root, not a concoction of man or beast rather a seed of envy, sewn by the Great Enemy that stole into his heart and cankered his soul. As rust erodes metal and weakens its integrity so too did his jealousy of his master’s dominion cause him to falter in his duty, questions crept into his heart and soon he was leading away the hearts of others in pursuit of Heaven’s Throne. His following grew daily as those who had followed him in defense of the Celestial City now blindly followed his seductive promise of power.
The Astarii looked on in terror torn between their duty and their champion. Many rallied behind him as others watched in fear, not willing to take up arms against their creators. The seeds of rebellion sown throughout the stars bore fruit quickly and the once well-ordered worlds of Creation were rife with dissension.
Mustering his forces, he led his dark host through the portals between worlds and laid siege to the Celestial City itself. Like a towering mountain, it stood defiantly before them. For days they built siege engines and bombarded the Citadel with missiles and magic and still the citadel stood, quiet and resolute a towering and majestic symbol of the Creator’s power.
The days turned into weeks and the Citadel remained unscathed and silent, the Host of Heaven showing naught but disdain for their marauding subjects. The frustrated hordes soon grew weary and turned on each other.
As he beheld his army destroying itself he howled in rage, the fallen champion would not be denied. Glaring at the unyielding fortress gates he ran towards them. Bellowing in rage he grew in size. As he ran, his skin turned ashen as his body took the form of a mighty black Dragon.
As he thundered across the field the ground shook from his immense bulk. As he approached the gates he let out a guttural roar and bathed the gates in fire so hot the stones at its base melted. As the flames died down the gate stood unscathed. Leaping forward he rammed the gate with his immense bulk; the gate shook under the onslaught but held fast. Raging, he tore at the gate with his taloned claws but they scarcely left a mark. The assembled forces watched in awestruck silence as the great beast struggled. For an hour the beast beat against the gates and still the gods were silent.
After a time, the beast disappeared and there in its place knelt the once mighty Astarii champion, on his knees powerless to even enter the halls he had once freely walked in the presence of the AllFather. Beating on the door with his fists his voice rang out across the plains. ‘Allfather, how long will you cower behind these walls. Come out and face me! Surrender the Throne of Heaven and we will let you live, defy us and perish!’ His entreaty sounding more a plea of desperation than a likely outcome.
Only silence greeted the petulant tirade and the dejected Astarii Lord trudged back towards his forces. As he approached the camp a shout went up. Turning to face the citadel he discovered the gates were opening. The luster of the Celestial City was visible for the first time. The buildings shone as if the sun itself radiated from within. The streets seemed paved with pure gold, as their eyes adjusted to its splendor they saw a chariot barreling towards the gate.
As it drew nearer the assembled legions drew back, its splendor was unlike anything they had seen throughout creation. Fashioned of Gold and Ivory it shone so brightly it threatened to blind them. Drawn by four large-winged white Pegasi, it moved swiftly across the plains. It came to a stop several hundred paces, from the assembled forces. A lone figure stepped down from the chariot. Clad in armour of white and gold he towered above even the Astarii Champion, his golden hair blowing in the gentle breeze. The sight of him affected those gathered on the plains they knew at once the being towering before them in glorious splendor was the Allfather.
The being spoke in a voice that shook the ground. “Why are you here?” His grandeur demanded explanation. “I gathered your worlds together not to rule over you but to protect you from the evil that lies beyond. I sheltered you, raised up the Astarii to defend you and now look how you’ve betrayed me! You have succumbed to the very evil from which I sought to protect you.
Now you plunder our realm and turn my own children against me, you seek Heaven’s Throne thinking it will satisfy your lust for power. Its cleansing flames would consume you in an instant for the evil in your heart. Those that serve the Great Enemy cannot enter here. The Lords of Sin are no doubt reveling in your a
rrogance and rank ignorance.
I will not allow you to defile this place with envy and lust. If you will humble yourselves there is yet hope. If you offer even a moment of further rebellion I will cleanse this plain of your evil once and for all.
KNEEL!” The command rang out over the plains. Many of the assembled war host went down on one knee; the being before them exuding raw power the likes of which they had never before beheld. It dwarfed even the might of the Astarii guardians. In spite of it all some still remained on their feet unwilling to show obeisance to the being they had come to supplant.
The Allfather raised a hand and the Astarii champion threw himself upon the ground, as he swept his outstretched hand before him beams of light radiated out from his palm. Like a scythe the rays tore through those who had refused to kneel. The light consumed them until nothing remained. In an instant more than half the assembled host had vanished consumed in their stubborn pride. The remaining rebels cowered in fear before the being they had sought to destroy.
The Allfather spoke again, “Return to your worlds and remember this day, I am not your enemy, I am the shield between you and that which is to come. Were it not for me your worlds would already have fallen before the darkness.
Their servants and minions are many, their purpose is chaos, confusion and death. Steel your hearts against their poisonous and seductive whispers, for I will not continue to save you from yourselves. If you wish once more to enjoy my blessings as you have hitherto done, return to your homes and cleanse your hearts. Then and only then will I be your shield once more.
Now go!” The command echoed in their ears and chaos ensued as the assembled host fled from the Celestial Plains, anxious to remove themselves from the Allfather’s gaze. The Astarii Champion went to stand but a hand raised in warning from the Allfather kept him right where he was. The Allfather stood towering over his servant for what seemed an eternity as the plains cleared.
After a time, they were alone. The Allfather broke the silence, “I gave you everything Tolan and you betrayed me, how many have perished because of your lust for power and prestige. The Heavenly hosts think I should have allowed the Glory of Heaven to consume you, but they do not fully understand what is to come. Your vain ambitions have set us back in our preparations. The war for the souls of the Children of Creation is approaching rapidly; those whispers that corrupted your heart are but a taste of what the Great Enemy brings with him.
A Coronation of Kings Page 9
