Dark Tide Rising (Book 1 of The Bright Eyes Trilogy)

by J. M. Rojas

CHAPTER 23: ONE LAST SUNRISE

  The Rise was a great staircase that ascended to the surface of the city of Alexandria. Cut into the rock and soil foundations of the city hundreds of years ago by the Historian Brotherhood, it connected the Ancient Library to the New Library, and had been commonly used by lore-kin. During the day, the doors were accessible by those who knew of its existence; but of late they had been sealed shut because of the increased presence of rebels in the city. Oreus had allowed its use sparingly, and had double his men's watch of it from both above and below. His enforcers scoured the streets of Alexandria, seeking out the pockets of rebels and their lore-kin sympathisers. Lately however, the street battles had ceased, and Oreus' men had secured a peace that seemed to have lasted for months. Mathias had even heard from various spies that the rebels had moved away from the city to find another way into the Library. Regardless of this reprieve, he still remained vigilant and wary.

  “This seems like a bit of climb, just to get between Alexandria and the Library,” Jack huffed, trying to keep pace with Ramose, Mathias and five Atlantean soldiers in tow. The passageway glowed softly from the gloam-vines that emerged from the rock walls, netting them like a myriad of blood vessels. “Haven't you guys heard of lifts?”

  Mathias chuckled, causing Jack to jump. He rarely saw the man even crack a smile at the poorest of jokes, let alone laugh. “This way is rarely used,” The general said. “The steps were made a long time ago. Our people use various other passageways to get to the surface now; and yes, we do use lifts. Some of those pillars that hold up the cavern are hollow, with lifts in them. The lore-kin architects who helped restore our home are continuously debating with Oreus on ways to expand and improve our hidden city. However, it is a long, drawn out process as Oreus tends to clash with them. Aesthetics over practicality.”

  Jack smiled, amusingly. He knew the importance of practicality in buildings from his architectural subjects at university. Oreus, from what he picked up on the man, was an idealist with ravishing taste for the arts and the exotic. He had a different way of looking at the world and how things should run, which did not seem to bode well with others, like his son Rykar. Or were merely tolerated by some, like Mathias.

  “But, I thought I would show you the old route,” Mathias continued. “Built by the Historian Brotherhood, who maintained this city before we came.”

  As they ascended the stairs, Jack noticed an obsidian marble platform a hundred feet ahead of the climb, surrounded by the tight squeeze of the passageway's rocks, forming a small chamber. A gloam orb was half-buried in the centre of the floor, shinning up and illuminating the roof. The steps continued on beyond the chamber, disappearing into the darkness.

  When they reached the platform, Mathias said, “There are four more of these before we reach the surface.”

  “No sweat,” Jack puffed, managing a half smile. He then whispered to Ramose, “I don't remember being this unfit. The fight didn't seem this hard.”

  “The Gaianar armour invigorated your muscles and stamina,” the djinn answered, striding ahead as if the steps were a effortless stroll. “Keep up, you'll need to earn your strength without magic. The climb is high, but the fall is greater.”

  Jack tried to piece the logic in Ramose' proverb, but shrugged in defeat and ran after him.

  It was sometime—which felt like hours to Jack—before they finally came to the last—fifth—chamber. This one had no more steps, but was a dead end with a metal door in the rock face. The door had no handle, and in its centre was four metal cubes etched in Osirian script, which formed a single, larger cube.

  Standing in front of the door was a lean, gaunt-faced man with spindly fingers resting on the hilt of a glaive at his hip. He had a white, patchy beard, long hair, and grey eyes like Mathias. Unlike the general's, which were stoic and usually unreadable, there was a sadness in them as if he had seen too many battles and not enough hope.

  “The way is clear,” the stranger said, his voice a laboured breath.

  “Jack, Ramose,” Mathias said, gesturing to the old soldier. “This is Captain Acareth of the City Watch.”

  The thin man bowed low. “It is a great honour to meet you both. Jack, son of Toram, and Ramose, a Lord of the Desert. Mathias has told me about the symbol on your chest. Welcome.”

  Both teenagers bowed back; Jack, somewhat awkwardly.

  “Greetings Acareth,” Ramose said, “I am honoured to meet the head of the City Watch. I hear the rebels have been keeping you busy.”

  “Not busy enough,” Acareth replied, followed with a wary laugh that was empty of mirth. “It has been quiet for months. They have run back to their holes in the desert, and now we wait for their next move. I suspect the rebels are back under a single flag, again. If you are not aware, there were several factions that split from the Dark Tide, not long ago; however these collaborative attacks on the Library makes me think Kaelan has executed the upstarts, and brought his sheep back into his fold.”

  “That is what we suspect,” Mathias added. “A fractured rebellion is easy enough to control; but a focused one, with one leader, will be much harder to quell.”

  Acareth sighed. “It has taken us a long time to quieten the streets of Alexandria. But it has finally been done. The Taraal—the enforcers of Oreus' will—keep a close watch from every roof, every ally, and every shop. Not even the Egyptian secret service could find us here. Our forces in Zerzura, unfortunately, aren't having the same luck. Essios—”

  “Fell,” Mathias finished the old captain's sentence, grimly. “I know. It has been a great loss for the Library.”

  A solemn nod, and Alcareth gestured to the door. “The city's library has been secured as you have ordered.”

  “Having lore-kin in the administrative body has always come in handy,” Mathias said.

  “You mean the city library is controlled by... the old library downstairs?” Jack asked, turning to look back the way they came.

  “Yes,” Mathias answered. “Loyalists who obey only Oreus, like the Taraal. Now...”

  The general's words trailed away as he reached into jacket's inner pockets and revealed a small silver ring. He placed it on his right hand's little finger and his eyes lit up with white fire. A stream of blue light suddenly leaped from the band and engulfed him, snaking around his limbs. The light then expelled outwards and Mathias was no longer the looming giant Jack had grown accustomed too; he was only a head taller than him.

  Following his lead, the five soldiers revealed similar rings. In a blink of an eye they emerged from a swirl of blue light, standing a little shorter than Mathias.

  “These are illusionary Nysaean rings,” the general said to the teenagers. “To avoid drawing attention to us. You, however, will be wearing these.” Alcareth passed Mathias two Nysaean invisibility belts that he had unslung from metal pegs on the wall, who in turn handed them to Jack and Ramose. “You are still under my care, Jack, and all precautions must be taken.”

  “You've worn these before?” Ramose asked Jack, seeing he was wrapping it around his waist without hesitation.

  “Yes,” Jack said. “I'm assuming its the same one I wore before I came to the Library. They must have recharged it or something. These things run on those stones that power the Lemurian's ships.”

  Mathias nodded to Alcareth. “It is time.”

  Turning to face the large iron door, Alcareth opened his right hand, finger-spread, and hovered it over the small cluster cubes. His eyes lit up, like Mathias', and slowly the smaller cubes began to move. The lower left cube sunk into the surface of the door, and lower right moved over the top of it. Both top cubes sunk into the door, and resurfaced on opposites sides. A new cube rose up from the gap left by the bottom right cube.

  “A puzzle,” Ramose whispered to Jack.

  “An old fashion combination lock,” Jack said, grinning. “The door must be hollow and have a few of those cubes inside it.”

  When all four cubes locked into place, Alcareth pushed them toget
her with the palm of his hand and they all sunk in together, flush with the metal surface. There was a click, and the door began sliding into the left hand side of the door frame. A puff of dust stirred on the floor, and a light crept into the chamber from the other side. After the door had completely retracted, Jack saw a narrow passageway leading up to a... silver lift door. Two arrow lights glowing above it.

  “You have got to be kidding me,” Jack half laughed. “I was just saying...”

  “We had this end 'modernised',” Mathias said. “Took a bit of convincing to have Oreus agree that a cog and pulley system was too tedious and slow. But in the end, after getting him to walk the stairs a few times, he agreed.”

  Ramose laughed. “I'm sure he would have.”

  “I will stay here,” Alcareth said grabbing Mathias' arm. “My duty is the city. Kalaidan and the Taraal will await you above.”

  Mathias nodded and patted his comrade on the shoulder. “We won't be long. Just a moment with these younglings. We have much to accomplish in the coming days, so a final sunrise in New Osiria will be good to clear their heads.”

  The captain nodded, smiling softly. “We all look forward to an end to all this strife. And if you can restore our former glory, restore our world and the ones we lost, then you have the heart and spirit of all our peoples.”

  Mathias broke from Alcareth's grip and walked towards the elevator, hiding a dark look. “I will do what must be done.”

  “As you have always done.” Alcareth only spoke it loud enough for himself to hear.

  Ramose, Jack and the five Atlantean soldiers followed after the general, who strode purposely towards the lift.

  When the lift doors parted, Jack found they were in another small room. A single gloam orb hung from a thick chain in the ceiling, casting its light against the four blank, stone walls and a tiled floor. There was no door.

  “How do we—” Ramose started to ask; however a hiss of air interrupted him, and suddenly the wall in front of the group rolled back, revealing an extension of the room, which was dimly lit by a swathe of dawn light from an unseen window. Bookshelves lined the walls of this other half, and there were red-brown floorboards instead of tiles. In the southwest corner was wooden door with an antique looking, brass handle.

  “Where are we, exactly?” Jack asked Mathias.

  “A private collection room in the Library of Alexandria,” the general replied, stepping through the threshold of the open wall. The soldiers followed him silently with their glaives unsheathed.

  Jack and Ramose shrugged and did likewise. A hiss of air brushed their heels as they stepped onto the floorboards—looking over their shoulders, they watched as the wall rolled back into place, and saw on the other side a large painting depicting the Library of Alexandria on fire.

  “Julius Caesar's work,” Mathias said, with his back to them and his ear against the wooden door, listening for any movement beyond it. “An accident, supposedly.”

  Jack swallowed and turned from the painting to the huddled backs of Mathias and the soldiers. “Deja vu. I feel like we've snuck into library in my home town, and we're about to set off the motion detectors. Then the security guards are called in, and a chase through a series of thorn bushes ensues.”

  “Sounds like you're speaking from memory,” Ramose laughed suspiciously.

  “Unfortunately,” Jack sighed. “My friend Caleb and I—”

  The door squeaked open, and both teenagers looked to Mathias who was standing perfectly still. It had been opened from the other side.

  A silhouette of a broad-chested man stood in the hallway beyond the door. Mathias spoke with the newcomer for a brief moment in hushed tones, before letting him enter the room.

  He looked almost like Mathias' brother in physical form; tall, strong-limbed, with a chiseled face. This man, however, had darker features, with long auburn hair tied in a ponytail, and dark green eyes. He wore a black suit with a deep red tie, two earrings looped each ear, and his fingers were covered in various exotic looking rings that sparkled on their own accord. Jack felt he wasn't mistaken in assuming this man was Thulese in appearance and manner.

  “Callan,” Mathias said, introducing the man to Jack and Ramose

  “Kalaidan in the old language,” Kalaidan added, with a soft laugh. “Hello, lads. I am the administrator of this library, and captain of Oreus' topside army.”

  “The Taraal,” Ramose said, smiling and bowing to Kalaidan. “I am sure your people are grateful for your service in suppressing the rebels.”

  “I am sure they are. However, we do not seek such adoration for the sacrifices we make. It is part of the service to the Library.” Kalaidan turned to Jack. “Nice to finally meet you, Son of Toram. I knew your father from his time as High Librarian, before Oreus' ascension. I also fought with him during the Last War in Atlantis.”

  Jack politely extended his hand. “Nice to meet you, Kalaidan of the Taraal. My father seems to have won many hearts around here.”

  “He was a good and honest man,” the administrator replied with a genuine smile, grasping Jack's hand and shaking it. “Now, let us see this sunrise before the city is fully awake.”

  Ramose grinned at Jack. “Egypt is a beautiful country, you know. Full of rich history, and beautiful sunrises. I wish you had more time to explore it.”

  “Me too,” Jack said, feeling like it was the last day of a holiday.

  The Library sat against the shore of Alexandria's harbour. A jewel of knowledge from the ancient world, now restored and given new life. The building's shape was that of a massive disc inclined toward the Mediterranean sea, evoking the image of the Egyptian sun illuminating the world.

  Jack and Ramose—under the cloaking powers of their belts—sat undisturbed on the slanted roof's apex and watched the golden haze of the sun burning along the horizon's line. Thick clouds plumed in the sky, and the ocean breeze tickled their noses, filling their lungs with fresh air they had been denied in the Hidden City.

  Mathias and Kalaidan stood nearby, discussing the rebel exodus from Alexandria. It appeared—though their voices were low—that Mathias was grilling the Taraal about which way the rebels had retreated, and if they had found their hideouts in the desert. Kalaidan seemed convinced the enemy were marching on Zerzura, but Mathias appeared doubtful.

  “How could your people have survived the Fall?” Jack asked Ramose, watching the sun slowly peel away from the horizon. “I mean, the Lemurians used a time machine. Your people should have been—sorry if this comes off as insensitive, as I don't mean it too—made extinct like the dinosaurs? The world was hit by a huge meteor.”

  “No offence taken, Jack.” Ramose' eyes were also on the sun. “Our records say that the last of ancient Osirians found refuge in the Sun King's secret cities below the ground. Much like the Library that the Historian Brotherhood rebuilt below Alexandria. My people are strong. They have always been survivors. And even though our lands are now mostly deserts, we still remain here. It is because we hold this place sacred. It is a still a beautiful land.”

  “You are very strong, you know that?” Jack said, closing his eyes against a strong wind that washed over them.

  Ramose seemed to be lost in a distant thought. Finally he said, “Maybe I am merely stubborn like my father.” Then he laughed.

  “You beat Rykar,” Jack said, grinning. “And he was a seasoned warrior.”

  “He simply underestimated a boy from the desert.” Ramose finally broke his gaze away from the horizon and looked at his new friend. “I fear no one, Jack, but sometimes... I think I'm pretending. In the end, I'm still just a boy... You know?”

  Jack couldn't find words to reply, and simply smiled.

  “By the way,” he added. “You owe me another match.”

  They both burst into fits of laughter.