by Sean Watman
Chapter 16: The Journey
Since I've been targeted for a lot of ambushes lately, I decided that the best course of action would be caution. I stopped my magii sprint after I got a safe distance away from the cave, conserving the rest of the magii in my chambers for when I got attacked. It's sad when you know you're going to get attacked before you reach your destination. As I walked, I began to feel an intense pain coming from my stomach, and I finally noticed that I hadn't eaten in almost two days.
Objects in my cloak pockets flew as I rummaged for something, anything, to eat. It turns out that Flizzle and Frizzle were kind to me; they stuffed the last few rumbleberries that I had left into a sort of cluster. I guess there weren't any bags, or they hadn't been invented yet; I didn't really care as long as I had food. I munched on the berries (skin and all) as I walked, taking in my surroundings when I noticed where I was. I hadn't been here in a long time, and the place looked different with the light filtering through the branches. It was just as Kris described; the inner grove of the forest looked different without the darkness of the moths.
I was caught at the time when Pyre and Pyro were both shining brightly at both sides of the sky, and the trees in the grove caught both the red and orange glow, making the trees appear to be almost golden from where I was looking. Once again the words “Beautiful but deadly” crossed my mind; this country was a wonderful death trap. As I continued looking at my royal surroundings, I noticed the greatest gift that had ever been given to me: a rumbleberry bush.
Upon closer inspection, it wasn't just one bush, but many intertwined. That didn't really matter, though, the point is: I got food, and lots of it. I just kept on eating the berries, making sure to stash some inside my pockets for later meals. I don't remember what happened next, but I'm quite sure I fell asleep inside those bushes—my stomach content with all of the food and exhausted from everything that happened.
“I ask for one assassination, one small elimination of a possible threat, and do you give it to me? No!” The king of Tundar was screaming at the two men cloaked in black who knelt before him.
“Sir, with the greatest respect,” the first one began, “it is rather hard to assassinate someone if they know you are coming-”
“How could he have possibly known, though?” Blice's voice had returned now to its regular steely cold tone. “Unless there was some way he could have predicted this outcome, which he could not have because he does not even know I exist!”
“My lord,” the second man interrupted him in mid thought. “Forgive me, but I do not see the harm in letting the boy go; he is, after all, just one boy—” Blice cut him off.
“Yes, but he could potentially be the new Kreydur of Pyrus. Did you consider that possibility? This is the second assassination task that you have failed to accomplish; give me one good reason why I should not kill you right now.”
Instead of trembling with fear, one of the figures replied calmly, “Because we are your only link to the government of Pyrus. Without us, you have no influence over the king.” He paused before continuing, choosing his words carefully. “Also, what would you consider to be the proper punishment for the traitors Ivan is pursuing?”
“I will decide that when, if, he catches them,” Blice replied coldly. “Now leave me, Shadow Riders! There is much that I have to do, and so little time to do it.” The Shinso departed as silently as they came, leaving the king alone with his thoughts.
“I wonder,” Blice mused, “if I continue to test his strength, will that make him an easier target or a bigger threat to me? What do you believe is the right choice, Meteas?” The man froze at the mention of his name. “I can sense your presence, so you might as well come out from your magii cloak.” The man whispered a few words and instantly appeared before Blice, his head bowed in shame.
“Sir,” Meteas began, his voice sounding less human and more robotic, “I just came to inform you that Irone has been completely sealed shut. The Iron City is now untouchable and ready for the second stage.”
“All in good time, Meteas, all in good time,” Blice replied. A laugh quickly followed, echoing down the frozen mountain.
I woke up startled from a headache. As I shook my head, trying to straighten my thoughts, I saw a flame. It took my brain a moment to finally recognize that I wasn't even a foot away from the fire, and when it did, adrenaline pumped so fast that I was up on my feet and sprinting for the nearest exit. I could hear the sound of hooves behind me, and I instantly knew the Shinso had returned to finish what they started.
I was in such a panic, I forgot about the roots of the trees surrounding the grove and tripped on the first one. There I was, face down, eyes closed, and awaiting my death.
“Make it quick; do what you have to.” My voice had lost all of its confidence and was replaced by an empty, hollow tone. In silent recognition, the Shinso did as he was told. At least, that is what I thought was going to happen.
“What are you talking about? My master has sent me to lead you the rest of the way.” The voice was firm but gentle. I opened my eyes slowly to notice I was still on the ground. Could this be a trap? If so, then why go to the trouble of setting it up when they could just kill me? I quickly rolled onto my front and wound up staring at the hooves of what looked like a flaming centaur.
“Let me guess,” I said, “you are a …”
“A Kreysor; that is correct,” he finished. “Now, if you do not mind, we have a little ways to go still until we reach our destination.”
“And that destination would be?” I asked suspiciously.
“No more questions,” The centaur commanded. “All will be answered once we arrive.” We traveled for about an hour, the centaur leading while I meekly followed. We were in a new part of the forest; well, at least a part I hadn't explored. The trees all began to look the same, and as I glanced at the forest floor, there was only grass—all of the beautiful rainbow flowers had vanished. I assumed we were moving north since we were travelling in my original direction, but I could have been wrong.
Our destination turned out to be what seemed like an empty space. It was similar to the village in that the forest made a circular shape surrounding the barren plain. I was about to continue moving on when the centaur motioned with his hand for me to stop.
“This can't be where we are supposed to go,” I finally said after examining the plain.
“Everything is not always as it seems,” the centaur replied calmly. “Prove to me you know the password to enter this realm; otherwise, I will have to force you to leave.”
I was about to shout out, “I don't know a stinking password!” but my mind knew better. This was a riddle of some kind. He said there was a realm in this place, so it must not be visible to the naked eye. That was it! I began channelling magii into my head chamber; just a little bit would be enough.
“Trublind,” I called out, knowing that the centaur must have already known this spell. As my eyes adjusted to its magii sensing capabilities, a whole building began to slowly appear. This entire plain concealed a palace hidden by magii!
My thoughts were interrupted by the sound of clapping.
“Well done, stranger! I told you he was the one that was looking for us, Centurion!” a man said as he walked out of the shadows of some trees. He was a little taller than I was; he had short red hair that was spiked and wild green eyes. His clothing was concealed by a grey cloak, but I was certainly meeting a lot of people in a very short time. It was hard to remember all the names— except for Lyra. I could never forget Lyra.
“Um, I don't mean to be rude,” I said. “But who exactly are you, and what is this place?”
“Oh, where are my manners? My name is Gron, and welcome to the record house of Pyrus.” I saw smoke come out from his mouth as he spoke, changing colors from green to red and back to green again. We stared at each other for a few moments before he spoke again.
“Common courtesy states that you must now give your name.”
“Oh!” I qu
ickly replied. “My name is Jack.”
“You can end the spell now if you wish, Jack.” Gron added, “The record house only needs to be seen once to be seen in normal eyes. This place is truly magnificent. It has records of all of the major events that have taken place in Pyrus, right from when the countries began to form.”
“How did you come across this place then?” I questioned.
“I stumbled upon it by accident while on my travels.” The smoke turned red once again. “Now, if you do not mind, I do not wish to continue this conversation outside; shall we?” He beckoned toward the doors. I released my spell, waiting for my eyes to readjust to color, when I confused myself. How could I have seen this Gron and Centurion in color, but the rest of the world in black and white? Reminding myself to ask this question, I nervously followed the man while Centurion stayed outside.
As the doors opened, I began to see how small the place really was. It was no bigger than a house, and surprisingly, there were no books or scrolls in shelves like I thought there would be. It was like a cozy, tiny house, with two comfy chairs and a circular stone table separating them. The walls were blank, and there was no carpet..
“This is it?” I gawked. “This … this …”
“This is the fabled record house,” Gron finished. “I already said that.”
“But this … this is a sitting room!” I protested. “Where are the books? Where are the scrolls? If this is supposed to be a record house, where are the records?”
“What did you learn when you found this place?” Gron countered. “Things are not always as they seem, and this place was created by magicians long ago, and the magic contained is still strong.” He waved his hand, and the table began to emit a green glow.
“What is going on?” I asked. I was dumbstruck. Tables do not glow.
“This is one of the rarest magical artifacts in all of Tereer,” Gron replied, his voice expressing his excitement at his seeing my reaction. “This is called a viewer's table. It allows the wielder to view the memories and recordings that the table has received. The only problem with transferring the memories is that you lose that memory completely, and it can be viewed by anyone if they know what to look for.”
“The engravings across the sides of the table are the name of each country written in their own language.” I stared at him anxiously before he spoke again. “Do not worry; it is not the job of a Kreydur to know every language on Tereer. We speak in this language instead of our native tongues in order to come to decisions.”
“You speak as though you are a Kreydur,” I urged, trying to find out some of Gron's background. His expression changed from glee to one of sadness.
“I was once, a long time ago,” he replied. I waited a few moments for him to elaborate, but typically, he remained silent. When he finally spoke again, he changed the topic.
“Ah! But you did you not come here to listen to me dwell on my history. You came to learn how to call out to your Kreysor.”
“How did you know I have a Kreysor?” I asked suspiciously. “Only two people, well, one actually, knows that I have a Kreysor.”
“Oh?” Gron replied curiously. “Because it seems as clear as day to me. With my spell, you can see magii in people and objects around you. It can even tell you whether or not a person is lying by the color of smoke they emit when they speak. It blinds you to everything but the truth. Kreydurs, Kreysors, and magii-enhanced objects are the only things that are seen in color.”
“You created the spell?” I asked incredulously. I had a whole new amount of respect until I remembered something tragic. “Does that mean you were the one who wrote on the tree the name of the spell and the message in blood?”
“You read the message?” Gron asked me. He looked genuinely surprised at how I knew so much. I nodded quickly. “Good,” he said, “That saves me having to explain a few things. Now, before I guide you through the history of Pyrus, would you care for a bite to eat or something to drink?” At the mention of food, my stomach almost flipped. I was still full on rumbleberries and would be for a while. I wordlessly shook my head, anxious for what was to come next.
“Alright then, your education begins. Before we start, I have one more thing to say: do not leave my side. If someone uses a viewer's table and stays in one memory for too long, they will end up becoming trapped forever in that memory.” My eyes widened in horror as he finished. It was just like being in the lineup before a very big roller coaster when I was little; the coaster was a dragon in flight, ready to swoop down and attack, and every tunnel felt like I was going into its jaws. Gron immediately noticed my fear, but instead of sympathizing and reassuring me, he just smiled at me and said, “Shall we get started?”
Chapter 17: The History
My experience with the viewer's table is something I will never forget as long as I live. It was the most terrifying and yet totally awesome memory I will ever have. When Gron touched the center of the viewer's table, it gave off a giant red glow as if angered because of the touch. Not even a second later, the record house was gone, and I was standing in the middle of a wasteland similar to the one created by Ivan and Lyra.
“Pyrus used to be a volcanic land.” Gron spoke as we walked through the wasteland. “The ground was heated soil, and the two suns in the sky contributed to the constant heat. Lava slides were constant.” As if in response to his voice, volcanoes formed, and lava flowed all around us. I wasn't just being told the history; I was viewing it with my own eyes. This is so cool! I thought as we walked.
“The first people who settled here got burned frequently by either the sun or by the lava. Eventually, their skin turned crimson, although they weren't necessarily burned.” People appeared all around us. Some had red skin, some had orange.
“When the Kreydurs were first formed, they were not chosen by their Kreysors; they either volunteered or had to pass many tests of knowledge, strength, and cunning.” The next images were of people competing in what looked like a wrestling match, a footrace, and, surprisingly, a game that looked like chess.
“The Pyrians, however, were all raised equally.” Gron spoke with disdain in his voice. “They eventually ended up fighting amongst themselves for the power that the Kreysors offered.” Images of blood and war appeared in front of my eyes. Men and women ran through me like I didn't exist, to battle their opponents on the other side.
“The king at the time, Vol, was devastated by his ruined country. He decided that the Kreysors should pick the Kreydurs for Pyrus. The other countries followed shortly after, fearing that the civil war in Pyrus would spread throughout Tereer.” He paused for a moment, letting everything he said sink in. This is heavy stuff, I thought to myself. I never knew how valuable these creatures are—that people are ready to kill one another to achieve their power.
“The first Kreydurs were actually twins, though their names were not mentioned.” Gron had resumed his lesson and was actually walking a bit faster. “They wielded two Kreysors, one transformed into a bow and the other into a sword.” My ears instantly perked up. This could be my Kreysor! The twins appeared before me, one with a flaming lion, the other with … Centurion? No, it's just not possible! My mind screamed in denial.
“Gron?” I addressed him nervously, “you aren't … by any chance … one of the twins are you?” He laughed before he answered me.
“I wish I was! They were the most powerful Kreydurs at that time! You are right, though, that is Centurion. Kreysors do not age like humans; it takes them millennia before they finally pass away.”
“But I thought they were beings made of pure magii?” I countered. Gron's eyes widened in horror after I responded.
“Who told you that?” he asked me sharply. “Whoever did knows more than they should about the Kreysors.”
“Oh, and I suppose it is alright for you to be all-knowing then?” I retorted, defending Kris. No way was I going to let this man dis my friend. He glared at me for a moment then fixed his gaze upon the twins.
“Moving on.” Gron continued. “As I said before, the twins were the most powerful Kreydurs, but only because there were two of them. They had twice the amount of influence when the Kreydurs voted on decisions. This created unrest throughout the other countries.” An image flashed of the twins smiling smugly while they faced what I assumed to be the council of Kreydurs.
“Eventually, something that had never happened before occurred: a secret alliance was formed between Irone, the country of metal, and Tundar, the country of ice. Their goal was to assassinate the twins in order to balance out the Kreydurs. It was a noble plan and was quickly carried out.” An image of the twins’ bodies lay before me. Two slash marks across the chest on each body.
