“My son will be king…your brother deserved…to die…you..” His words were too hard to project, his breath would not come, yet he smiled.
King Johnas Valhera looked down at Mikhail, and saw his uncle smile a knowing grin up to him. His breaths were short, fluttering, and he was covered in blood from battle. Johnas raised his blade, looked at the bulge in the outstretched neck, and cut down with a clean chop of steel.
Thump
Thump
The head of Mikhail Salganat rolled toward his feet, grinning, and eyes wide open. Johnas picked up the head by what gray hair remained, and carried it as he stepped toward his castle.
“Make sure he lives.” Johnas pointed to Oggidan as he passed. “And if anyone interrupts me inside, I will take their head just as you witnessed here.”
No one spoke, no one moved, thousands just watched as their new king walked alone to where the sad humming noise and eerie green light was coming from. His shadows were huge, his head was low, and the he spoke to no one. King Johnas Valhera disappeared into the darkness of his keep, the remains of his enemy in his hand, and the crown of Chazzrynn resting on his head. He went to see what had become of his brother, and what sorrows he would hear from his mother in the blade. Johnas hoped that she had not taken Jehrale inside the emerald, to be with her, for that could never be undone.
Exodus IV:IV
Temple of Haddius, Ruins of Mooncrest
One by one, the five companions awoke. No sound of crashing waves, no tumult of storms echoed, and the mist of the underground aquatic temple was motionless on either side of the stone dais and bridge. Blue light from below the sea shone as daylight and the waters were parted for them. A stone set of stairs led off the north of the platform, deep stairs descended, and at the end was an open door of silver steel and sapphire gems.
“What happened, how long have we been asleep?” James looked at the green column and the chain. He glanced around, but there was no Haddius.
“I am not sure, but that was actual sleep, for which I have not felt in a long time. Deep sleep indeed.” Shinayne yawned politely.
“What happened, elf? How did you free him?” Saberrak snorted, knowing it had been something she did, he did not understand it.
“Elven secrets my horned friend.” She smiled, recalling that she was dancing in blade and step with a forgotten God before the sleep took them.
“It was most impressive Shinayne, wasn’t it, men?” Gwenneth commented and looked around, the nods and stares came slowly from the rising companions.
“So, how did it happen, where did Haddius go, what now?” James was confused, partially not awake yet and still in mild disbelief of what he thought had happened.
“Dunno, but I feel better than if I’d rested a month straight. We just freed a Carician immortal, me thinks anyway. What is that there then?” Azenairk Thalanaxe pointed to a set of floating keys and picked them up. Eleven keys, silver they were, with symbols adorning their heads and a silver ring through them.
He saw the hammer and moons and lifted it up “Vundren, this one be for certain. Likely to his holy temple.”
James pointed to the feathered cross key. “Alden.”
Saberrak stood and looked as Zen held up the next one, a fist with a crescent in its grip. “Annar.”
“Megos.” The minotaur continued, as if he had studied them his whole life. He nodded at the hand with a moon key.
“Vasentanessa.” He said to the key with a pair of moons with snakes intertwined.
“Siril.” Shinayne interjected as the dwarf raised the next key up, a crescent moon with stars connecting the points.
Saberrak huffed. “Solumet and Haddius.” As he looked to the moon with sun like flames all around and a moon with waves on one half.
“Seirena.” James spoke, without realizing it, toward the moon with a leaf inside of it surrounded in vines.
No one spoke when Zen held up the last two keys. One with a triangle of vines that was empty on the inside, the other was a pair of overlapping moons with two feminine eyes staring back. No one spoke, just looked with puzzled expressions. He looked to Gwenneth who had been silent the whole time. “Ideas on who this be then, Gwenne?”
“No, but I have seen that symbol before. The triangle of vines, I know I saw it in Vallakazz, it was on the shoulderplates of Angeline Berren, the bodyguard of professor Middir of Kivanis. But I do not know what it means.” Gwenneth breathed in the air, fresh and moist, as if she were breathing atop a mountain yet drinking fresh spring water at the same time.
“The other is for She that has no name, I can feel it. It is like I have a memory that is not mine, yet it is an empty stolen spot in my head.” Saberrak knew of it, just not in words, and he cared not for the twisted memories he had inherited.
“Well, these be the eleven keys to the ten temples, don’t know what the other one is for then. Maybe we missed one.”
“No, we just have not seen it. These are gifts from my broth…from Haddius. Put them away, keep them safe. He has parted the waters for us, to a secret passage below his temple. Let’s go.” Saberrak huffed and flared his nostrils. He did not know how he knew these things so readily, but he did. The accepting stares of his friends, even from Gwenneth, reassured him that he was not insane.
Zen tucked the ring of eleven keys into his pack, readied his shield and warhammer, and walked up with the gray minotaur. “No argument here.”
Shinayne sheathed her blades and handed James his broadsword from the stone where it had fallen. Gwenneth hovered with her staff in hand, and the five went down the stairs as the still waters of an underground sea stood parted by an unseen force. The blue light faded, the tunnel below was dark and dry, and it went on forever it seemed.
An hour passed, only the echoes of their march made noise. Suddenly, after a twist to the left, then the right, a set of stairs came into view. Yellow stone, sandstone with decorated engravings and words, and a golden door tall enough for someone much larger than the minotaur was at the end of the inclining steps. The door now in front of them, closed and sealed, the five friends looked to the ancient writing engraved in the gold.
“Virnu ninar?” Zen commented as he read the words in dwarven. He felt the gold, it was solid, and so were the words written in powdered ruby. “Means first born son, what ye’ think?”
“I think you should use the key of Solumet, firstborn Carician.” Saberrak rubbed his horns then drew his axes. He heard James and Shinayne ready their blades as well, then they all stood to the sides of the door.
“Oh, aye. Ye’ mean the keys ye’ told me to put away for another time then? Allright.” Zen shot a glance up to the tattoed warrior. He set down his shield, then his hammer, took his pack off, and got out the keyring. He packed back up, but showed the keys to Saberrak. The dwarven priest received a blow of air, a snort of understanding, then he went toward the lock above the handle.
Azenairk placed the key into the hole, a flash of blue light erupted from the door, and as he pushed he looked to his hand. The key was not in the lock anymore, yet he had not taken it out. Gray light blinded them all momentarily, as it poured through the opening passage. He looked out, the other side of the door was rough sandstone, as were the walls. In fact, there were no walls, the door was built into the side of a sandstone rock face, hidden from the outside world. The last Thalanaxe stepped out, placing the keys through his belt, and shielded his eyes. He was on a road, a rough path, a quarter way up the mythical Kaki Mountains. He teared in the corner of his eyes, but it did not stop his momentum upward, for he saw a set of doors half a mile up and ahead, near the peaks.
“Kakisteele!”
“Zen, wait!” Shinayne chased after, knowing this was far too dangerous place to go running off alone. He did not listen, or did not care, and the highborne elf went after him.
“Do you see what I see?” James Andellis looked out over Mooncrest, the ruined city lay before him, now to the north. He was nearly one hundred feet up the sid
e of the Kaki Mountains, staring out across the temples, the palaces, the green and gray marble tower, the ruined outpost was but a dot on the horizon. “It is beautiful.”
“Indeed.” Gwenneth walked beside him, head turning from left to right, eyes unblinking. She saw a black spot above in the mountains, like melted volcanic rock. She thought of the temple to the Goddess with no name, then kept her wandering eyes moving. There were castles above in the peaks, yet now they were right overhead, looming like ancient lions ready to pounce. The bronze domed palace with a forged crescent moon rising high caught the faintest glimmer of light, as if the sun were trying to break the cursed clouds.
“I’ll leave you two alone.” Saberrak chuckled in his bovine way, passing the couple gazing across Mooncrest.
James looked confused, then suddenly realized Gwenneth’s hair was on his shoulder, the two were standing very close. His hand, just the little finger actually, grazed hers. Gwenne’s hand swept back across his, her cheek ever so faintly resting on his shoulder. The winds of the storm were barely a breeze that circled out of habit, but no one seemed to notice the lack of the unstoppable gale during the gray daylight. Her black hair whisked gently across James’ face, yet he dared not move, not this time. She let her hand open, just a bit, and his fit nicely and slowly inside.
The shouting, half a mile up, startled them both. Her hand pulled away, as did his, neither doing more than some quick eye contact and blushing as they heard Azenairk yell and yell, and it echoed across the mountains and ruins.
“By Vundren! By His holy beard and hammer and the grace of the moons! I am here, tell them we made it father! I stand in the Kaki Mountains Mum, tell Papi and Tad and Gead! The last Thalanaxe is here, at the doors to Kakisteele! Just like I promised ye’!”
Shinayne stood over Zen as he stared up at the golden double doors. He was on his knees, one hand in the air, the other holding his iron box. He was trembling as tears ran down his smiling face and into his black beard. Her dwarven was not all too well studied, yet she made out the letters and wording above the closed passage as if it were her native tongue.
“Kakisteele.” That was all it said, curved dwarven letters etched with ruby dust, above golden doors. Shinayne put her hand on Azenairk’s shoulder, then Saberrak put his hand on hers. James and Gwenne came minutes later, but no one spoke, just smiled. The plateau here was massive, there was enough room for half a legion right outside the doors to the fabled mines of dwarven legend. They watched, smiling, as their friend raised his arms in victory.
Deep breaths came in and out, Zen was trying to calm himself as best he could. He thought of his family, all of it, racing through his mind like an untamed stallion. Carefully, he picked up the old rusty key, it was as big as his hand. He stood, wiped his sweating brow, and walked toward the doors no dwarf had touched in two thousand years. Doors no dwarf believed existed either, and for most of his life, neither had he. His brown eyes looked to the handles, gave a tug, and smiled as they expectedly held firm. The hammer and moons of Vundren were on each door, and for all the things he had seen in his travels, nothing prepared him for actually placing the old key into the lock.
Eyes closed, Azenairk Thalanaxe placed the key into the lock, turned, and pulled. It was hard, heavy, he put a second hand on it. Still tight, yet with all his strength, it moved an inch. No one helped, and he was thankful for it, then slowly he backed up with the ancient golden door pulled wide. He moved to the other, did the same, and his friends stood silent and let him respectfully take his moments. Zen looked at the key, then to the ring of keys, realizing it had the exact same hole through it as the other eleven. It was supposed to be there, he knew it. The iron key of Kakisteele fit onto the ring, and suddenly the rust fell off and it glistened like the others. He closed his eyes and smiled.
He opened his eyes, just as the hair stood on the necks and arms of everyone.The sky darkened, a black swirl crept the air that was not the previous storm around the ruins. The wind stopped, the air went heavy and stale, and a woman’s voice could be heard from deep in the dark depths of the Kakisteele Mines. They all heard her, the very whisper felt as though it had power.
“Althuz gulfierus todrotos Yjaros ethes Gimmor camfiers altavas de uthgeas zirr. Ethes mowierre ogast jre, Thalanaxe.”
“What did, why is, who said that and what in the hells did it mean?!” Zen scrambled to put away the box, carefully but quick, then grabbed his shield and hammer. He was not afraid of it, he was angry it was in his mines and did not speak dwarven. He walked a few feet inside and stared at the darkness.
“I have never heard that language, but it was creepy indeed, and it looks like we have company.” Shinayne pointed with Carice and Elicras as something, many things, were dropping out of those black clouds into the ruins, perhaps a mile or two north.
“I know what it said, but I am not going to tell you.” Saberrak looked to the strange winged black things that were drifting down, the ones the elf was pointing at.
“I would argue that you do not, as I speak nearly every known tongue, but, you are the chosen one. Another reason I do not worship, their judgement up there is a bit, off.” Gwenne patted Saberrak on the shoulder with her dry remarks. “So, horned one, what language and what did it say?”
“It was Gimmorian, the language of the green moon. How I understand it, I do not know.” Saberrak huffed, he was used to Gwenne’s taunts and jealously guarded intelligence. She hated it if anyone knew something she did not, so he tolerated her comments easily.
“What did it say, Saberrak?” James drew his blade and watched the winged forms start to circle low through the ruins, as if they were hawks on the hunt. Many hawks.
“It said, you have dared betray the immortal laws of God and Gimmor, now you will be judged and burned alive for your blasphemy. I sentence you to die. That’s all.” Saberrak huffed, and walked in .
“It said me name, minotaur. It said Thalanaxe at the end. Ye’ forgot that part.” He corrected.
“Yes she did, it seems she knows who is coming to kill her.” Saberrak stared down past his tattooes and nose, right at Zen. “Scared?”
“Aye, she had better be scared, scared o’ me that is.” Azenairk chuckled, and waved his warhammer for the rest fo follow him.
“That’s what a minotaur likes to hear.” Saberrak huffed, smiling wide, and sniffing the empty air of this forgotten place. He slapped Zen on the back and followed him in.
“Before we go in though, let’s agree to meet down there, the secret door to that water temple place. In case we get separated then.” Zen turned and nodded to the others.
“Agreed. Shall we?” Gwenneth smiled and gestured toward the dark passage.
“Better hurry, those things are getting closer.” James glanced behind them as Shinayne and Gwenne entered. He squinted, just about to sheath his blade, and suddenly they disappeared below the ledge an out of sight, into the ruins. The knight of Southwind peered over the edge of the plateau. “No time, they’re here!”
“Where?” Shinayne was on guard, both blades ready, her stance low.
“Coming up the rock face, flying fast!”
“What are they?!” Gwenneth focused her arcane energies, making her skin hard as iron.
James went to say it, just as they rose over the edge. Flapping wings beat with their shrieks and howls, their black skin and ruby eyes gave their nature away, as did their barbed tails. Standing as tall as Saberrak, covered in black dripping blood over their emaciated tight flesh, the horde of fanged creatures pointed their smoldering claws at the five that dared enter the cursed mines and screamed in unison.
“Demons, Alden save us, there are hundreds of them.” James saluted with his blade and readied his ancient shield.
“Tandorial demons, to be precise. I have never seen one so big, but they are from the infernal realms of Nirakas, I have dealt---“ Gwenneth was cut off.
“Then button it and send them back to where they came from, wizard!” Saberrak passed by
Gwenneth, axes in hand as the mass of black winged and curly horned avians landed on the plateau.
“This be my set o’ doors, demons! Time for dwarven justice!” Zen ran ahead of Gwenne, slammed his hammer to the stone, and chanted loud as golden light ripped from his presented shield and into a screeching demon. “Vastri uth um davunda!”
Shinayne rolled under the beam of holy light incinerating one after another of the demons and came up between three more. She felt the heat from their claws, their hot breath foul with rot, and crimson flaming eyes with no pupils glared at her. Carice glared back as it cut through its flesh as if it were parchment. Elicras answered to her right, two quick thrusts into another, then she spun. Carice went high, her shortblade low, each cleaving through demonic flesh as ashes erupted and bloody screams echoed off the edge they fell from. Five Tandorial demons felt the swords of the whitemoon take their unholy lives. She cast a quick look to her now shimmering blades, amazed at how easily they cut through these enemies, then continued her grinning dance of steel.
James led with his shield, he felt the claws rake across it, then cut fast horizontal across the top. His hand was ignited with silent blue flame, it inched up the length of his broadsword, and the head of the demon over him fell clean off. Blood of hot black and ash erupted from the neck, showering him and turning his stomach with the smell. James turned to his right, plunging into another, then left and cleaved the arm from a screeching fiend. He spun, blocking the snapping barbed tail of the beast with his shield, and landing his blue glowing steel into its ribs. The demon exploded all over him, forcing him to back up and stifle his rising vomit. Still, the knight of Chazzrynn slashed at his swarm of fiends, his blade taking heads and appendages as more landed on the plateau than they were killing.
The Exodus Sagas: Book IV - Of Moons and Myth Page 34
