The Key of Creation: Book 01 - Rise of the Destroyer

by M. D. Bushnell

  “Thus they petitioned the All Father to destroy the Tritaph, removing the object of the wicked desire of their brother. They hoped this would desist anarchy and the consummate destruction of both their domains.

  “Sadly, the All Father refused the pleas of his children, for He could not destroy the Tritaph, lest the loss of the starry keystone undo all of creation. Nor could He destroy Nizar, for verily was he now intertwined with Urkalla, and could not be undone without ending the balance of all things. Thus the Sky and Earth wouldst also pass from existence.”

  Adrias closed his eyes and yawned. Aldrick paused, hoping for the best, but Adrias’ eyes flapped open. Aldrick continued.

  “Seeking balance, the All Father didst split the Tritaph into thirds, and gave unto each of His children one piece to sentinel. This retained the power of the Tritaph in the physical universe, yet ensured no one should possess it wholly. And lo, the mighty All Father didst fashion a Key, without possession of which the Tritaph could not be reassembled.

  “Thus didst His children infuse a part of themselves into their respective third, each seeking to protect their piece of the Tritaph. Anu and Kian did further surreptitiously conceal their third, lest by inattention or apathy it be lost to the greed of their covetous brother. Henceforth his ambitions were forever stymied, as long as the three pieces of the Tritaph were never reunited.

  “Now it is written, should one possess even a single piece of the Tritaph, that possessor would gain untold power. It is also said that bonding with such an artifact, imbued as they are with the essence of their protectors, wouldst compel the spirit of its respective owner—Anu, Kian or Nizar—to merge with, and mayhap, inexorably usurp one’s very soul.

  “Unto this very day, man doth search for the remains of the Tritaph and its companion Key, without success. Verily, its very existence may indeed be only legend...”

  “I love that story,” Aldrick smiled, closing the book. “Don’t you just…”

  He cut off when he realized that his wife and son were now both fast asleep. “Well, I find it interesting, anyway,” He chuckled, and blowing out the smoking candle, lay back and closed his eyes with a contented sigh.

  Chapter 4

  Aldrick yawned and shifted uncomfortably in his saddle. He had spent most of the night tossing and turning, constantly reliving the mysterious attack on the road and subsequent confrontation with the peculiar, gray-robed man. Still, they had left the inn early that morning, and had been on the road most of the day. He was now convinced that he was significantly more comfortable in a library, than on a horse.

  They had been blessed with another beautiful spring day, and fluffy white clouds floated lazily overhead. Traveling was easier, as the warm rays of the sun continued to shine brightly, drying the road.

  Short on sleep, and distracted by memories of the previous day, Aldrick found it difficult to enjoy the temperate weather. He was a cautious man by nature, perhaps even more so now after the events of the day before, but he was struggling to keep his attention on the road. At least his family was safe; thank the All Father.

  Preoccupied as he was, Aldrick hardly noticed when they topped a final rise and started down the far side, coming at last into view of the great city of Akkadia. The capital city of Asturia was by far the grandest city of the country, both in its sprawling size and in the opulence of its decor and state buildings.

  They could see preparations for the forthcoming Tournament of the King spread out before the city in stretches of fallow fields. To the right, commoners were assembling temporary camps for themselves and the influx of visitors the Tournament would bring.

  With so many arriving from all over the country specifically for this event, most commoners would not be able to afford, or even find available lodging within the walls of the city. All were welcome as spectators for the Tournament; it was after all the grandest event to occur in Asturia in the past twenty Summers. Yet lodging, food, supplies, and entertainment remained the responsibility of each individual.

  Nearing the city wall, the entrance to Akkadia came into view. The grand structure stood in consummate contrast to the makeshift camps being constructed around it. The sweeping arch of the massive gate had been rebuilt several Summers earlier by King Hermanus, and was designed both to awe and intimidate arrivals to the city. Standing at least twenty paces tall, the imposing facade was covered in carved likenesses of past monarchs and notable figures from history. The stoic faces solemnly greeted those who passed through the gate and into the city proper. The workmanship was impressive—Hermanus having spared no expense on the project—yet Aldrick found the whole effect rather gaudy.

  Being a time of peace, the towering gates stood open. Nevertheless, Aldrick and his family passed through the grand arch under the watchful eyes of a score of well-armed guards. The soldiers stood casually and did not accost passers-by, yet their eyes continually scanned the crowd.

  Entering the wide courtyard that lay beyond the gates, they were confronted by the pinnacle of the entire renewal project of the late sovereign; a massive statue carved in the likeness of King Hermanus himself.

  “Who’s that, father?” Adrias asked.

  “That is none other than King Hermanus.” Aldrick replied with a shake of his head. “He was a good king, and improved much during his twenty Summer reign. But as you can see from this ostentatious display, he was a bit pompous.”

  “Here now, I’ll suffer no disparaging talk of my late father, the great King Hermanus!”

  Aldrick turned to see his life-long friend Brodan, the sole heir of the late King Hermanus, now regent of the kingdom of Asturia. Jumping down from his horse, Aldrick embraced his old friend warmly.

  “Brodan, it’s good to see you again. Again, you have my deepest sympathies.”

  “I appreciate that,” Brodan smiled. “I’ve missed you.”

  “I would have liked to visit sooner, but travelling here from Ubarra is notoriously difficult during the winter. This season was particularly harsh. Fortunately, it cleared enough for us to come for the Tournament.”

  “Ah, I see you brought your family this time,” Brodan smirked as he turned to Jelénna and offered his hand. “No matter how much time has passed, I could never forget the angelic and radiant Jelénna. Your beauty my dear, haunts my dreams.”

  Jelénna blushed, but waved off both his assistance and his flattery as if they were gadflies buzzing about. “Now Brodan, your blandishments will only serve to make my loving husband jealous.”

  Aldrick put his arm around his wife. “True.”

  Brodan ignored them both and addressed Adrias. “And here is young Adrias, my how you’ve grown! I expect you’ll be training to sword fight with your father before long.”

  “My father had to fight on the way here. We were attacked on the road!” Adrias blurted out in excitement.

  The regent’s condescending smile evaporated. “Attacked on the road from Ubarra? What happened?”

  Aldrick nodded. “We have much to discuss, but not here.” Eyeing the passing crowd, a ghost of a smile crossed his face as he added, “What are you doing down here anyway? It’s not like you to be consorting with the common folk.”

  “Yes, well I...” Brodan stammered. “I was down at the market doing a little shopping. Not everything is available in the Palace, after all.”

  Brodan paused, and then gave him a broad wink. Plus, you know me...I like to stay in touch with the little people!”

  Aldrick stared blankly, but Brodan ignored the look. “I have planned a grand feast for your arrival. Let’s go to the palace and get you cleaned up, and then we’ll hear all about your adventures on the road.” Without pausing, the regent suddenly turned and walked away.

  “That was abrupt,” Jelénna muttered. “Not so much as a ‘by-your-leave’.”

  Aldrick nodded. “Typical Brodan. Shall we?”

  Stretching after the long ride, Aldrick grabbed the reins of his horse and led them at a walk after the regent, weavin
g through the crowds in the square towards the palace.

  Leaving their horses with palace servants, the three ascended the magnificent marble steps dominating the front of the grand palace. Here again, busts of past kings both legendary and infamous lined the staircase. Their carved eyes seemed to follow Aldrick as they climbed.

  Brodan waited at the top of the steps. His arms were crossed, and he had an impatient look on his face.

  “Come on then! You three are as slow as Ghandaharian sloths.”

  Brodan spun and strode off into the palace, leaving them on the stairs.

  Jelénna grimaced and said, “Honestly Aldrick, I never understood how you could be friends with that man.”

  “Oh, he’s not that bad,” Aldrick smiled. “He’s a good man underneath his contrary exterior, but growing up as the son of the king will give you a certain...confidence.”

  “Arrogance, more like,” Jelénna scoffed.

  Reaching the top of the massive staircase, Aldrick changed the subject. “Let’s go inside. I’m hungry.”

  The guards ushered them inside. Passing through the grand entrance, they found a servant waiting for them; one that Aldrick remembered only too well. The thin, older man had a hawkish face and an aristocratic nose, which supported a pair of round reading glasses.

  With a marginal bow, the servant announced in a lofty voice, “Welcome, Master Aldrick...and family. I am to escort you to your room where you may freshen up. When you are ready, we’ll be off to the dining hall where our illustrious regent will undoubtedly await your arrival with baited breath.”

  Without waiting for a response, he turned and strode away with his head held high.

  Jelénna leaned in towards Aldrick and whispered, “He hasn’t changed.”

  Aldrick smiled. “Jarvus never does. You either get used to him, or you don’t.”

  Following the vexatious servant, Aldrick admired the elegant furnishings, paintings and tapestries adorning the halls of the palace. Seeing them again brought a pleasant wave of nostalgia. Much of the art and fixtures were ancient, and had been in the palace for centuries.

  Aldrick had forgone the nobility he had grown up with in the palace, instead choosing a simple, working life. The work was important, and he loved his life with Jelénna, but he did have a strong admiration for the rich history of the land, particularly that of Asturia.

  Several of the tapestries depicted grand scenes of knights astride armored mounts clashing together in epic battles. Others showed battles and events from the Great War. All were reminiscent of the tales he had read and loved as a boy.

  Aldrick paused when they arrived at one particularly memorable painting. The largest piece of art in the palace, the massive painting was also the most graphic, depicting an intensely gruesome and violent battle from the Great War.

  Aldrick again marveled at the carnage portrayed, rather uncharacteristic of the rest of the art in the palace. Sargon the Destroyer—the infamous tyrant of the Great War—stood on a small rise near a large stone temple, surrounded by Asturian defenders. A raging fire burned uncontrollably in and around the temple.

  The Destroyer was garbed in long ebon robes, and had his arms extended outward dramatically. A creeping nimbus of shadow spread out from Sargon to attack the soldiers, who writhed around him in pain. The magician scowled menacingly as he wreaked havoc among the defenders.

  Aldrick swallowed. The horrific scene depicted in this painting had always stuck out in his mind. Unlike most of the art in the palace, the lighting and detail of this particular piece was so incredibly vivid and lifelike that he felt as if he was there on the hill watching the battle take place. He almost felt as if Sargon could turn his head at any moment, and look at him.

  Jelénna grimaced. “I absolutely hate this painting.”

  “It’s disturbing, but I always thought it was the most stunning work of the Great War.”

  “Certainly the most violent,” Jelénna added.

  Adrias gazed at the painting with big round eyes. “Who is the scary man on the hill killing all the soldiers, father?”

  “That’s Sargon the Destroyer in his final battle near the Temple of the Oracle, on Mount Zagrias. Fortunately for us, the Great War and his invasion ended that day.

  Jelénna turned away from the painting with a shudder. “I’ve heard stories of the Battle at Mount Zagrias and the victory over Sargon, but here it looks as if he’s winning.”

  Aldrick smiled, relishing any chance to discuss history. “And so he would have, were it not for a single arrow, shot from an ordinary bow by the legendary archer Elias. For all of his preparation, slaughtering every mage, warrior and noble who stood against him, it was Elias’ simple arrow that ended his reign of terror.”

  “Did he die father?”

  Aldrick snorted. “I’m sure he did, although legend says the body vanished shortly after his fall.”

  A forced cough from behind interrupted Aldrick, and they turned to find Jarvus staring past them, with an exasperated look on his face. Sniffing loudly he inquired, “Perhaps Master Aldrick, and his…family, are ready to continue?”

  Aldrick smiled politely, ignoring the obvious impatience of the thin man. “Of course Jarvus. Lead the way.”

  “Joy of joys! My day is complete.” The servant turned haughtily and continued down the hall. Aldrick put his arm around his wife, and they followed in his wake.

  With his father an advisor to the late Hermanus, and the king before him, Aldrick grew up playing in these halls with his childhood friend Brodan. He had always enjoyed the beautiful antiques and furnishings, yet he had never been able to remember the layout of the palace. It was not long after a few random turns that Aldrick, once again, found he was completely lost.

  They arrived at their assigned room, and Jarvus informed them he would escort them to the dining hall ‘at their earliest convenience’. He then proceeded to tap his foot impatiently.

  Entering their room, Aldrick whispered to Jelénna, “I believe he meant for us to hurry.”

  Chapter 5

  After freshening up and stowing their packs, they rejoined their brusque guide, and with hardly any sarcasm were on their way to the dining hall.

  A short time later, they arrived at the beautifully carved wooden doors that led to the dining hall. Jarvus grasped the large gilded handle, and pulled open the door. Stepping through, he announced their arrival in an imperious voice.

  “Your Highness, your long awaited guests have arrived.” With a sigh, he added, “At last.”

  “Thank you Jarvus,” Brodan mumbled from the head of a massive table, which dominated the length of the room. “Be a good fellow, and check on dinner, will you? I’m starving!”

  Jarvus responded with another sigh. “Your most trivial wish is my command.”

  He strode out of the room with his head up, closing the ornate wooden doors behind him. They shut with a resounding boom, which echoed about the stone hall.

  The large table was covered in white linen. Evenly spaced along its top were three grand, intricate candelabras, their candles ablaze even though sunlight streamed in through the windows high on one side of the spacious room.

  Aldrick smiled at his life-long friend. “Your Highness?”

  Brodan chuckled. “I’m not officially king yet, at least not until after I win the Tournament. It is perfectly acceptable however, for a regent to be referred to as ‘Your Highness’. I likely won’t make you say it, but it amuses me to make Jarvus do it.”

  “Well, ‘Your Highness’, regent or king, you still may not survive Jarvus. He hasn’t changed at all.”

  Brodan laughed. “Jarvus does have a penchant for effrontery, but he’s been here longer than the Palace itself; he’s practically an institution. Only the All Father knows how my father put up with him for all those Summers. Personally, I think he lost a bet.”

  They shared a laugh, and Brodan continued. “He’s irritating, but I overlook most of what he says. I see my forbearance as a sign of
great leadership...if I do say so myself.”

  Aldrick sighed as the regent laughed loudly. Brodan had always shown an arrogant streak, but sometimes it was difficult to say how serious his conceit really was. Aldrick had never been completely sure if Brodan was truly as arrogant as he seemed, or if it was mostly affectation.

  Brodan had power now, but he would not be king until after he won the Tournament. Aldrick sincerely hoped when that day came to pass, the regent would settle into his position of power and become a good and decent ruler, as his father had.

  As if reading his thoughts, Brodan became serious all of a sudden. “Now tell me about this altercation on the road.”

  Brodan gestured to seats nearby, and they sat down. Aldrick began to describe the events of the prior day, with Jelénna occasionally interjecting. When she became emotional during the description of her capture, Brodan spoke words of conciliation, even managing to sound sincere.