The Last Pantheon: of hammers and storms

by Jason Jones

  “Primalus Defectus, the holy scriptures of the Heavens. I studied them as a child, in the Aldane Church.” James commented.

  “Yes, Altestan and the worshippers of the one God made certain that all would know, in many ways. Here, Arabashiel, keeper of curses, resides below. Though you five may be powerful indeed, she is an immortal of the moons, what you would call a Goddess, akin to me, but stronger. She is Gimmorian, bred of God and She that is forgotten, not of Seirena and Megos, like myself, of lesser Carician blood. She cannot be killed.” Haddius sat, closed his eyes, and the others sat with him.

  “I am weakened, a prisoner, with only an angry storm to summon and rains of sorrow to let fall. I wish I could help you.”

  Hours passed in lonely thought and depressing attention to the waves that crashed above the underground sea. Hopelessness set in, radiating from a God that had been chained in misery, and it seemed that nothing would change it.

  The elven swordswoman thought of Lavress, how long it had been since she had seen him or kissed him. Years, but not millennia like the longing Haddius must have for his loved ones. She could not fathom centuries alone as he had endured. Her eye teared, feeling that loneliness in her mind and heart. Shinayne suddenly stood and paced, she thought hard while everyone sat and rested before Haddius on the stone bridge. Her aquamarine eyes lit up and she approached the trapped immortal.

  “Great Haddius, you say you feel the loss of your brothers, when to conjure your storm, and when to make the rains for your family?”

  “I do, I must do these things, it is my curse.”

  “You said you see and smell Saberrak, but you feel Annar inside of him?”

  “Yes.”

  “Yet you cannot feel with your hands nor body, not the water, not sensation of pain, nothing?” Shinayne smiled and drew out Carice and Elicras.

  “No, I cannot. I have immersed myself too many times to count, the water, my tears, it is but dust to me, forever. And forever I am chained as heat to the desert, my body cannot leave this place, not ever.”

  “Why are your blades out, Shinayne, what are---“ Gwenneth was cut off with a stare from the highborn.

  “Saberrak, you and James grab that chain. Do not pull until you hear my blades hit one another. Gwenneth, summon as much water as you can hold from that sea, when they pull, you dump it on the entire dais. Zen, I need you to pray, one of your poetic and rhythmic prayers. Maybe stomp a bit in time, make a song or steady peaceful pace for me, but keep it in time with the blades.” Shinayne backed up from Haddius, then tossed Carice to him. He caught it with a flick of his wrist.

  She held Elicras out on guard toward Haddius, then drew her other longblade from across her back. She nodded to James. “Give him your sword, James.”

  “Why does he need two, I mean what are you trying here elf? Is this an elven tradition I am unaware---“

  “Just do it, please.” Shinayne pleaded with her eyes. She looked to Haddius as he took the griffonblade he was offered, his blue eyes confused as he held two blades, and then he looked to the elf. Like an opening flower to the sun, he smiled to Shinayne.

  “My brother Siril and I used to do this dance, when we were alone, so many thousands of years ago. He was a master of such things, as I recall. What is it called again?” Haddius stepped forward, chain jingling behind him.

  Shinayne bowed. “From the lost Viala Simnorr on the island of Kilikala, it is a Simnorri kata we are about to perform, together, you and I. Siril taught this, and he guides us now. When I do this, I can feel and see and touch almost anything, and so can Lavress, no matter how far away he is. I have felt trees, air and wind, even calm cool ponds when we meet this way. But, you must do as I do, follow me perfectly, and close your eyes Haddius. You say you are trapped here, yet I say no, for we are about to have an experience outside of the flesh that binds us.”

  “Very well. How do you know it will accomplish anything though?” Haddius mimicked the bow, blades out to both their sides, and he closed his eyes.

  “Because my faith is much more than a decoration to be seen, it is a deep root into the stars from ancient elven love and tradition. Are you ready?” Shinayne closed her eyes and smiled as she felt the longing steel in her hands. Elicras wanted to be close to Carice, she had suspected as much, and that is why she had separated them.

  “Yes, I am ready. The blade you gave me, it seems to want the shorter one in your hand.” Haddius spoke.

  “I know, they are a matched pair. No more words, follow that feeling, search me out along that blind sensation, but follow my motions. Rest now, close your eyes, and listen.” Shinayne listened to the hum of Elicras and quieted her mind.

  Saberrak and James lifted the chain quietly behind him, yet allowed for slack as best they could estimate having seen their highborn friend do this several times before, albeit by herself. Gwenneth lifted her staff, stood far to the side of the dais, and began lifting water into the air with arcane command. It collected in circling blue pools and twisting streams as she moved her hands silently. Soon, a cloud of swirling sea was overhead.

  “Agravun desedre vangurde…”

  Stomp

  “Anvundres et dur en Vundren de…”

  Stomp

  Azenairk Thalanaxe stood in prayer, pounding his boot to the stone after each verse he sang. He felt his rhythm, bringing back memories of singing the hymns of Vundren deep under Boraduum, so many years ago. His deep voice lifted, echoed, and his eyes wandered to Shinayne and the ancient angelic immortal.

  Shinayne felt the slow rhythm of dwarven chant, felt the water above her, and she went on a slow en guard. Her longblade arced from low to high, followed by Elicras driving forward in a rising lunge. Her steps were like a dance to near still music, right turning over left, her attacks at nothing but air seemed to hold purpose on her still face. Eyes closed, she spun in gradual cuts and thrusts, rising and lowering in time with Haddius. She breathed and danced, her kata was perfect.

  The Ruler of the Oceans kept his eyes shut, with delayed swordplay that mimicked the highborn elf he knew was before him. Haddius saw but darkness, yet felt where Shinayne and her blades were, the song of Carice and the griffon hilted broadsword seemed to tell him without words or sight where to move. Soon, little glimmers of light flitted into his vision, eyes still closed. Not once since his curse from God had he seen anything but black when he closed his eyes.

  “Vushde Vannir Vundren erdes de..”

  Stomp

  “Maonell de oh oh ohh vesde arde…”

  Stomp

  Shinayne felt in touch with it all, the water, the waves, the being in front of her. The chant was in time with her parries of invisible blades, her steps mirrored those of Haddius, her breathing was nearly non-existant. Deep inhales followed by spinning round slashes that were constant yet not rapid nor staggered. Elicras wanted to touch Carice, but she did not allow it more than a longing hope, and then she was in the Vale of Simnorr. Her heart felt the pain of Haddius, she took him with, praying deep inside for help from the sky she could not see.

  Haddius saw his brother Siril, God of the elves and sky and stars, they were dueling in dance. They were young again, yet Siril held the blades of Shinayne T’Sarrin, and he held the ones given to him. Trees of majestic heights rose around them, green covered mountains washed the horizons, and the air was deep blue and covered in stars. The moon was full, the white moon, and it shone down on the tall perfect elven winged form in front of him. Without words, he and Siril danced, blades interweaving one another, yet never touching. Music rose from nowhere and everywhere, millions of eyes watched yet there was no one there, and Haddius smiled as the song of their swords changed with every stance and movement. He was recalling a fond memory, one he had forgotten, yet he continued with the blades in this fey dance.

  James felt his hands ache with something, stronger than ever, and the blue glow was aflame and crawling up the chain of green steel he held, as if drawn to Haddius. He looked to Saberrak, to his eye
s, and the blue light was slowly pouring over his tattoos and down his chest, reaching the chain as well. James looked up, the water was flashing in blues and whites. By the look on Gwenneth’s face, it was not from her doing.

  Zen’s eyes were wide, staring at the dancing highborn and the God of the Oceans that she was spiritually sparring. The dwarf was in disbelief of the proximity of their blades as the tempo quickened. Haddius and Shinayne were moving faster now, eyes closed, and the blades were missing each other by hairs, sometimes less. All four of them could not blink, but neither could help but wince, as steel came ever so close to flesh and the dance hummed and became so very real to see. Four blades, in step between their elven friend and a forgotten deity, flashing too fast to see now with blind spins and airborne twirls of arcing slashes and diving thrusts. It became a blur, a hum of dance and deadly attacks that should have struck flesh or steel, but did not.

  “Agravun desedre vangurde…”

  Stomp

  “Anvundres et dur en Vundren de…”

  Stomp

  Shinayne was there, in her homeland, face to face with Haddius as they dodged and weaved their identical lightning cuts and flashing parries. She rolled back, so did he. Her blades went out wide in a poetic arc as she somersaulted forward, and Haddius maintained pace. They were not alone here, she felt someone with her, yet she drove Haddius to follow her to the pond. Her longblade spun overhead as Elicras twirled low. He mimicked perfectly with Carice above and the broadsword near his knees. Back he went, driven to inhuman speeds, immortal speeds, his spirit taking over from his body to keep the routine. Then, Shinayne stopped, her aquamarine eyes opened. Haddius opened his the same time.

  Siril, where did you go?

  He is always here, when I am most at peace.

  I saw him, I was dancing with him, with these steel blades, like when we were so young.

  No Haddius, that was me, that was fond memory, guided by your brother.

  A trick? No, I saw him. Where are we?

  “Why have they stopped? What is going on?” James whispered, seeing both Haddius and Shinayne standing, facing each other. Their blades were low and at rest, eyes closed, yet they were humming along with Zen’s prayer.

  “Sssshhhh.” Gwenneth and Saberrak both whispered back.

  We are in the Viala Simnorr, in Kilikala, a sacred place to Siril. You have been here before, long ago, yet we are here now in spirit.

  Where is Siril, where is my brother?

  Here, there, everywhere.

  I want to see him again.

  Then go to him.

  I cannot, I am standing in a pond with you, Shinayne.

  How can you tell?

  I am wet…I can feel…the water…I feel it on my… legs…

  I know.

  It is not true, it cannot be, this is false, just a trick.

  Shinayne opened her eyes in the underground temple, and looked up the ten feet to the opening eyes of Haddius. She felt to collapse now that the kata was done, never had she moved at that speed. Her eye teared, feeling the longing of Haddius for his brother, Siril. Her heart swam in the desire she felt for Elicras to touch Carice. Then the dwarven hymn stopped as her tear fell, the same moment a tear fell from the God of the Oceans. They had been one, in time with everything, and it carried over to the here and now.

  Haddius dropped the broadsword, caught his tear, and looked to Shinayne. Suddenly he felt impulses pulling him as he awoke from the spiritual dance to the here and now. He felt his mother Seirena, his father Megos, his brothers Annar, Siril, and Vundren, even his sister, Vasentanessa. They were pulling him to the waters, they were close and near, yet they were nowhere to be seen.

  “It was a dream, a lovely dream, Shinayne. But as I said, my imprisonment is forever, until I feel the waters again.” Haddius hung his head as reality slowly came into view.

  “Then how is it you cry, God of the Oceans?” Shinayne whispered with a smile and a shake of her head. Her tears fell, she breathed out all the sorrow she had taken in, and raised her blade.

  Clang!

  With a stroke more furious love and heart than ancient elven skill, Shinayne T’Sarrin swung Elicras up into Carice, and the sound of steel meeting steel was as a melody from the stars beyond. The waters above fell as pouring rain over everyone on the dais, showering mortal and immortal alike. The chain of green steel that was fashioned out of its mighty pillar, was pulled as blue light and unearthly flame licked its length.

  Saberrak and James fell over backwards, chain in hand, yet nothing attached at the other end. Flashes of light brighter than their divine collision at Soujan Mountain threw them to the stone. Gwenneth lowered her head and shielded her eyes, Zen stared in awe, and Shinayne fell to her knees, too weak to stand. Water flew through the air, every direction, and winds whipped in circles around the bridge and the stone platform. A vibrating hum of hurricane storms circled, then slowed, and then all was calm as a mist settled over the bridge from the quiet waters.

  The mist parted on the dais, and a glowing form approached. It was raining upward and sideways around him, then the blue eyes of immortal light opened. And Haddius, Ruler of the Oceans, spoke in a mighty voice of the sea.

  “If I were to wish a thousand dreams, never would I have imagined this moment.” His body was wet, filling with strength through his moist immortal flesh. His white cloth toga and garments were splendid ivory, and Haddius spread his wings wide as wind whistled waves of song into the chamber that had been his prison for over two thousand years. The power radiating from his being was beyond mortal thought, and all they could do was look at him.

  Haddius looked down to the chain and pillar that was no longer entombing him. Then he met the eyes of Saberrak, James, then Gwenneth and Azenairk, and lastly Shinayne. Waters splashed upon his magnificent form, his beard became as ripe gray hanging moss, and his skin went from frail and pale to translucent strong muscled marble. The forces at work were pulling him, taking their toll on the mortals here, powers of his family that were sending feelings to him that no mortal could comprehend nor withstand for long. He saw them tiring, as if being here was too much to breath and bare for his rescuers.

  “Rest now, my saviors. I must go, the moon of my father calls and pulls beyond my will to resist! Yet gifts I will leave you, and blessings of passage through my waters will always be yours upon the asking! Thank you Shinayne, for seeing what I could not, for the dance you gave me, I shall send you a most beautiful dance in return! Seek the lower chambers, to your mines, but beware the Gimmorian judgment and…” The waves immersed him, beyond his rising and renewed strength, and then, Haddius was gone.

  Heavy sleep and misty rest took them over as the Ruler of Oceans was pulled into his underground sea. Waters rose to protect them, the mist of the sea was as a nourishing blanket while they slept in the deep hallows of the Temple of Haddius. Dreams of moons, storms, and smiling eyes of immortal blue played through their minds. Watchful stares kept over them, from far away, with unseen eyes of tearful joy and gratitude for returning another of the fallen Caricians to his rightful home. The five companions would never know of it, but at this moment, not a living soul could dare harm them. A blessed sleep no other mortal had ever experienced was occurring, for the Gods of the Whitemoon were ever vigilant, especially over their five chosen.

  Masks IV:II

  Southern Trail to Tintasarn

  Kaki Foothills

  It had been a long time since her garments were not meant to be sleek and dark for midnight murders. Her shoulders chaffed with the weight of the chainmail, the straps holding the greaves and shoulderguards were awkward as they had shifted after two days of scouting on horseback. Still, Kaya T’Vellon would not complain, the freedom she felt was beyond any discomfort. The former Lady of Southwind even carried a regular sized round shield, one without the lacerating blades she so often used for surprising her targets. The Chazzrynn woman, once known as Jade of the West, had no targets in fact. Heat bore down from the su
mmer sky, yet she saw a weakening storm slowly falling apart to the west, and she hoped it would bring some rain.

  “That storm is odd, it lifts up to the sky, as if from the ground.” Kaya watched as dark clouds far off west simply lifted and vanished.

  “Indeed strange.” Karai commented.

  “Lady Kaya, if I may?” Sir Karai queried atop his stallion as they slowed their pace. The caravan was in sight, taking a southern turn to the western trek, but all seemed well at a distance.

  “You may, what is it, Knight of Saint Tarumin?” Kaya smiled, she had been cheerful the whole last few days, but hearing her name spoken with respect made her grin anew.

  “What do you think is in there, truly?” Karai went serious in tone.

  “Karai, how could anyone know an answer to that? After thousands of years, anything could have crawled in there, squatted, and reproduced an entire civilization that we will have to war.” Sir Leonard retorted with a slight chuckle and wiped his shaved head, sweat already soaking his cloth.

  “I believe, dear Leonard, that Karai was speaking spiritually? Is that correct?” Kaya let her eyes wander the hills and open skies that seemed without end. She saw forests begin to dot the rising foothills to the south, yet the stone that broke the soil in places, was different. Barren trees grew from thin soil that was broken by every manner and size of golden sandstone crag.

  “Yes, indeed. They say this place, if it is there, was the city of worship central to the whole of the continent. Now, for its few centuries before Altestani destruction had its way, mind you. What now, would you say, are we seeking in hopes to find?” Karai looked to the front of the caravan, thousands of people from Harlaheim, families, citizens that were about to lose their homes had Cristoff not ordered the evacuation of Saint Erinsburg. Now, many more across Shanador and the border cities had joined.

  “You just said it, Sir.” Kaya thought of home, of Southwind, the gray stone of the Bori Mountains and the thick forests of pine. She saw yellow stone sporadically south, palm trees mixed with birch, it was not home. Yet, a feeling washed over her nonetheless.