by K M McGuire
An oddly bright expression stretched across the Scez’s face. His curtain-like lips pulled away from the yellowed stalactites growing from his jaw. “Ah! Precisely the individuals I’ve been seeking! Voden, I presume?” He released his steel green hand from Voden’s shoulder and extended it in greeting. Voden met it with his own. It was a cold and scaly formality. “Ah,” he turned, eyes enamored by Andar. “And evidently, I have stumbled upon you as well. A-Andar, correct?”
“I believe so,” he uttered, showing his unease, his words still caught in his throat. The Scez took Andar’s hand and shook it without a thought.
The Scez ran his frail fingers through the few wisps of ivory hair still in his scalp. It appeared like teased cotton pasted on top of a greyed watermelon. “I suppose you two are confused. Rest assured, Voden…well, I suppose both of you would be best. I come to you under request of the High Priest!”
Andar glanced at Voden, furrowing his brow, his confusion thick as mud. Voden shared the sentiment.
“Don’t be alarmed, my boys!” proclaimed the Scez with a laugh. This did nothing to distill the feeling. His black eyes shifted, glancing at the group of people clustered around them.
“Who are you?” Andar demanded politely.
The Scez smiled. It stretched across his bulbous head, a thin crease that nearly kissed his ears. “Forgive me, boys,” his voice wheezed. “Perhaps it is rather rude of me. I apologize. I am Koruza, the engineer. I’m sure there has been some mention of me?” Voden and his friend stared blankly at him. He grimaced and ignored their ignorance. “Eigan has created a position specifically for my interests. I find there are many advances that could benefit our homestead, thus, he has encouraged me to push our limitations on progression, to further our understanding of the sciences.”
“So, what exactly do you want from us?” Voden asked, still unable to understand.
“Let me ask you a question first. Have you ever been curious to see what lies beyond the city limits? To explore the world that exists outside of here? Have you ever considered the idea of being a hero?” Koruza paused as he contemplated their features. “If that is something that truly interests you, by all means, come with me. I can explain more freely up in my laboratory. There is an obscene number of wayward ears…” He gave them a second for his words to sink in. Again, that unnerving smile sparked across his face. “But I suppose, if you feel inclined to follow this banal system, I could find some other willing candidates. However, you two are Eigan’s only choice. Why, two strapping young lads like you could very well be the perfect specimen for such a task!”
Hundreds of questions pounded firmly through Voden’s mind. His eyes trailed back to the Great Board, unable to focus wholly on it, watching the excitement pouring out of his former classmates. He knew he could not share the feeling they had, each listing only brought a deeper anxiety he knew would always cause him to dwell on whether or not he made the right choice. He forced the thoughts away and turned to Andar. Andar looked back, and Voden knew the decision burdened his own shoulders. Andar would follow Voden to whatever end it led them. Voden felt their eyes prying into him as they waited for his response.
“And what if we just walked away?”
“Then what else would you do?”
It’s quite the pity, boys,” Koruza rambled as he turned back to them, verifying they were following him before he continued. “I would show you all the experiments I’ve been working on, but alas, Eigan insisted on putting you on your way, for me to go into any theoretical detail. Mind you, you may need much more time than a few days to understand even the premise of the theories!” Koruza laughed and shook his head, marching through the massive doorway of the Blue Keep. Andar looked quizzically at Voden. He shrugged. Koruza seemed a bit touched, but he was kindly enough, if a little egotistical.
They quietly bustled past large, blue marble columns shaped like sturdy arms holding ornate trusses, carved from timbers of knotted filigree where wild systems of pulleys and gears led up to the gabled ceiling. There nestled the bells that heralded the shift of time, waiting to play their song. Above the cluster of bells hung the golden dome, painted with stars like the firmament in the heavens, where the largest bell hung, shaped like the earth, and an angelic figure held a mighty hammer, vigilant to strike, but Voden knew the being had never struck it. It was beautiful, and he wondered if it was for something or just an old bell that was no longer in use. The foyer was wide and long as the ceiling was high, and pillars of light showered the marble floors in brilliant glazes of yellow.
Priests roamed hither and yon. Some congregated together, discussing passages in tomes or sharing polite conversation. There in the center of the room hung a bridge-like balcony, connecting the hallways in the upper sections of the diverging wings of the keep. The stairs that led to the balcony were like angelic tusks, wrapping down to the main floor, symbolically acting as hands, cupping the great crystal lantern shaped like an upside-down teardrop hanging from the trusses under the dome.
Koruza was surprisingly quick for his apparent age, making it difficult for Voden to pay much attention to anything other than the man’s feet. Perhaps it was the excitement of having another to talk to that poured such vigorous energy into him. They clattered up the stairs to the right, Koruza already turning the corner with hardly a backward glance. They jumped as they followed, met by Koruza, waiting patiently for them around the corner.
“Please, hurry,” he said briskly. “I would hate for you to be lost before you had a chance to start your journey. What would Eigan say?” he chuckled, shaking his head and waving them forward. The corridor was lined with gossiping torches, the firelight fighting against the shadows on the stone walls. The further down the hall they travelled, the less they saw of others, eventually leaving Voden and Andar alone with Koruza to explore further into the keep. Time after time, they passed a door, usually with a single trolley sitting along the wall, flasks and glass apparatuses were placed neatly on top of the cart, ready to be taken elsewhere.
Koruza had been going on about an obscured concept that dealt with harnessing steam, but it posed a challenge for Voden to comprehend. They turned down another corridor, with doors lining both sides. One side was dedicated to libraries that corresponded with a lab directly across the hall, and again, carts sat next to either door, filled with books and beakers. They entered the botanical wing, where a strange ivy grew on the walls, braided into intricate patterns.
They reached the end of the hallway. Koruza muttered something Voden could not hear and turned right down the dully lit stone corridor. Voden could almost taste the musty air as the eyes of the torches chased off the shadows nipping at them. They walked along the nearly wet walls and finally reached a single door that looked older than the keep itself. A grimy plaque hung loosely on the door.
Advanced Engineering
Light seeped through the cracks of the archaic barrier.
“I haven’t been to the Eastern Wing,” noted Andar, peering down the hallway. The last torch hung in front of him, and the rest of the hall fell back into the looming pitch.
“Yes, indeed,” Koruza responded absently. His hands rummaged through his coat, sparing little attention to Andar. “This door opens to the Tower of Nanje. Once home to a wonderfully impressive man, exceptionally intelligent! Naturally, I had to reside here. Ahh, yes! Here we are.” He unsheathed a fragile looking key, the color and texture of dried blood. The years had not treated it well.
The pride for his own brain hung on Koruza’s face like the food still stuck between his teeth. Koruza continued to talk as he rammed the key into the door. “He had fascinating theories regarding energy sources that I have been struggling to understand. But he engineered the impressive aqueducts and irrigation systems that are still used today!” He paused a second and looked at Voden. “He had even stranger conceptions of time. Visions of things that melded the future with the ether of the past. In his later journals, he kept writing about these forms that seemed
to hold the secrets hidden in the Beyond. That’s why he went mad. At least, that’s how the rumors go.” The lock clicked open, and he gently pushed the door.
“And now,” Koruza whispered, as if he were a man of the theater rather than a man of science, “it is mine to do as I see fit!”
Voden entered the room, astonished at how much there was to see. His eyes drifted along the mountains of cascading books, somehow stacked precariously on top of each other. The draft drifting through the room made the tomes dance to its whim, though they miraculously clung to each other, unwilling to fall. Voden walked past one of the mounds, admiring the shape, certain they were the pillars keeping the ceiling from caving in. At the far end of the room stood a massive window stretching to the vaulted turrets of the ceiling. It poured curtains of angled light through the room, splintered by the catatonic sprinkle of dust. It felt cozy in the most disheveled sort of way.
To either side of the room was a loft. The left side was set up with beakers and vials containing strange, swirling tubes that bubbled and chirped with the mysteries of experiment. He noticed the loft on the right had relics and artifacts featured on daises which led off into another room. Each breath Voden took held the scent of knowledge, hoping to be discovered before the hints of mildew took them to a forgotten grave.
“I see you are hardly disappointed,” Koruza smiled, eagerly waving them deeper through the valley between the books.
Around the next mountain, Voden heard a soft tinkering and a gentle tick fluttering around the tower, which brought a smile of satisfaction to his face. His eyes, now adjusted to the clutter, noticed a group of chairs surrounded by mountains of tomes, as if you could wait for the right book to fall into your lap. It appeared cozy and comfortable enough that leaving might become a struggle. As they continued walking, Voden examined the narrow paths cut between the structures of scrolls and books, which he found rather queer. Delicately etched lines wove along the stone, painted with a golden foil that swirled and conjoined beautiful circles. It was so esoteric to Voden, he knew it must mean something, but they had come around another pile of books.
The books were pushed apart in what looked to be a rather hurried fashion, making space for the golden orb that sat at the center of the room. Voden’s eyes fixed to the globe, enthralled enough to miss Koruza who passed the books and moved under the loft on the right.
“Please, explore the wonders, but be careful not to touch! Most of those artifacts upstairs are priceless! Now where have I placed…” his voice became muffled as he continued walking and disappeared from sight.
“You okay here?” Andar asked Voden.
Voden nodded, still gazing at the orb. Andar shrugged and wandered towards the loft, following where his head turned. He stepped up the stairs with a wild eagerness, and his footsteps disappeared through the archway of the next room.
Voden thought only of the sphere. He had never seen such glory. It rested in a brazen harness, which cupped the orb a third of the way up. Its thin legs spiraled down from the harness, forming into birdlike talons. Held in each foot was a flattened amethyst, spouting mosaic shapes of purple on the ground beneath them. There was a single golden wing wrapped around the back of the sphere, and fuchsia crystals formed the feathers as though they protected the sphere like an egg.
Lines cut across the orb, arched around the upper hemisphere, and spun in clusters of threes. The craftsmanship sent his eyes on a journey he could not ignore. He found the lower section of the sphere to be even more interesting with its indented circles, some inside others while more overlapped their shapes. It reminded him of the moon, with perfect craters rippling like a rock hitting a pond. He came closer and realized that something would fit inside those odd circles.
His heart fluttered as he inched forward, his breath becoming heavy, hoping to extract the mystery trapped by the ellipses. A flare of sunlight caught his eyes, bouncing off the top of the sphere where a glass cupola glinted in the light, staring up at the ceiling. The auric surface sparkled like the waves across the ocean and beckoned Voden to look further into the glass. He gripped the cool ring of the harness, glancing back to where Koruza had left him, and hoisted himself to peer into the void.
Behind the glass rested a concave slope, spilling into the dark contents of the orb. Odd mulberry-colored liquid swished and swirled inside the dome, with no explanation as to how. Voden put his hand on the sphere, expecting a vibration, but none occurred. He pressed his face against the glass, wondering if there was more to see. As his face touched it, he instantly moved away. The surface was warm, unlike the rest of the orb. Slowly, he looked into it again, this time hearing a soft, gentle humming, whispering from inside, like a bell that never stopped ringing.
“Koruza,” Voden croaked hesitantly, looking to see if anyone stood nearby. “What is this orb?” The thick liquid bubbled at his question, churning at his voice.
“Orb?” Koruza echoed from across the room. It was difficult to pinpoint where he stood. “Oh! Yes, of course! Well, that’s something, ugh…something I’ve been working on for quite some time. Ah, finally!” he cried ecstatically.
“What does it do?” Voden called back, still mesmerized by the gurgling sphere.
“Why don’t you ask it?” Koruza laughed as his footsteps echoed through the room.
How can it hear me? Voden thought, watching the purple waves. It bubbled softly, as a green, rectangular shape emerged on the surface. A golden 1 had been etched in its center. It floated there for a moment, and when it seemed satisfied that Voden had received its message, it sunk back into the ooze.
“Lovely, isn’t it?” Koruza muttered.
Voden felt his heart jerk his body, and he lost his balance. He winced as his tailbone smacked against the solid ground. Koruza roared with laughter, his eyes twinkling with hints of insanity. Voden’s face was now raw with embarrassment, and he sheepishly made it to his feet.
Koruza paid no mind to him as he placed his hand on the orb and began rubbing the surface. “In time,” he whispered.
Voden gave him a peculiar look.
“Sorry,” Voden said, “it was…alluring.” He couldn’t quite form the words to express his fascination.
“Not to worry, boy!” Koruza said cheerfully, patting Voden’s back enthusiastically. “I share the same sentiment! Now, where is your friend? I have found what I was looking for.” He unfolded a piece of parchment and waved it at Voden.
“I think he’s up there,” Voden said, pointing to the loft. Koruza nodded, and they started up the stairs, calling out to Andar. There was no response.
They walked across the loft, passing strange assortments of artifacts. They passed a massive stone prism with a section cut into its core, churning with clouds of light and possible human skulls. It caused Voden’s stomach to squirm. He noticed some swords and knives, one of which appeared strange in shape and covered in a dull yellow. They entered the archway to the next room. The space was long and wide, and torches lined the walls. The pedestals displayed ancient tools that hadn’t been touched in thousands of years. Some had little plaques underneath, describing their history and deepening the mysteries of the artifacts. They scanned the room as they went, calling for Andar, passing a set of strange, black stone swords that looked sharper than any blade Voden had seen. Voden even caught glimpses of devices so rusted, he couldn’t help but think they had never been used.
Finally, they heard a faint response
“I’m over here! I just…ugh…gotta…get…why can’t I pull this?”
Koruza pointed across the room. They weaved through sets of armors and strange headdresses before they found Andar hunched over, the pedestal behind him empty. He looked up when he heard their footsteps and shook his head grimly.
“I, um, I should have listened, right?” he said and then apologized to Koruza.
Voden was confused for a second until Andar turned, revealing his right arm. An odd strand of steely-blue polygons, linked by a blue string of light, s
hifted up Andar’s forearm. He pushed at it as it moved, grunting fiercely, trying to force the serpentine metal off his limb, but it would not concede. Further it climbed his arm, clicking and shifting the shapes to flow across the contours of his appendage, but there was no sign of true pain in Andar’s face.
“It’s not constricting, I presume?” Koruza whispered inquisitively, his eyes flickering with excitement.
“No, but I can’t manage to get it off,” Andar muttered gruffly. The prismatic segments finally seemed pleased with themselves and shook comfortably on Andar’s arm, flashing a calm blue for a second before they stopped moving. Andar swung his arm, checking his mobility. He looked towards Voden with consternation. “Any thoughts?”
Koruza shook his head, snatching Andar’s hand, examining the helix around his arm. “Unfortunately, I fear I would be of little help removing this blade.”
“Blade?” Andar interjected, pulling his arm back.
“Yes,” Koruza assured, crossing his arms thoughtfully. “It’s the Keeper’s Bane. Several tales point to this artifact, most less accurate than others. They say it was the enchanted weapon from a warrior who ensnared the great evils of the world.” He looked at Andar, stealing a quick glance at Voden before continuing. “He could travel to the Beyond without repercussions, but, like any legend with hardly any scientific proof, he was said to have faced a great evil that nearly destroyed him. Of course, he managed to banish the evil, but at great cost. His armor damaged, and his sword nowhere to be found, he vanished, ashamed he could no longer protect the realms of the sentients, vowing to give guidance to any worthy of his sword.” He stared at Andar. It was an uncomfortable feeling, even for Voden. “I suppose there is still someone worthy. Though, if you must have it removed, I’m sure there’s some kind of saw nearby. A bit barbaric, but—“
