by Jeremy Dwyer
CHAPTER 8: Castle of Ice
Meridianus was the smaller of the two southernmost continents, the other being Waderav. The Farmer’s Road land bridge extended in a northeasterly direction from the northern coast of Meridianus, and the Admiral Ramalaxis Bridge land bridge extended in a northwesterly direction from its northwestern coast. The Trerada Ocean was to the north of Meridianus, in between those land bridges. The Pirovalen Ocean was located along the northeastern coast of Meridianus, to the east of the Farmer’s Road. The Gradaken Ocean was located along the western coast of Meridianus, to the west of the Admiral Ramalaxis Bridge.
There were twelve (12) large crystals – each two (2) feet across measuring from their furthest brilliant points – and each was seated atop a thirty (30) foot tall curved stone pillar. The pillars were arranged in a twelve (12) sided shape – a dodecagon – on the rocky ground along the northern coast of Meridianus, and they were spaced one thousand five hundred fifty-three (1553) feet apart. The crystals atop them began to glow a bright blue-white, rapidly increasing in intensity, until they shone brighter than the red stars of the sky above. Hot blue beams covered every geometric diagonal between the crystals, making fifty-four (54) beams in all. They could be counted as follows: from each of the twelve (12) corner crystals, there were nine (9) nonadjacent corner crystals to which the beams shone – and from which each beam shone back – overlapping the first. Thus, the overlapping diagonal beams connected the same pair of geometric corners, so that the two (2) overlapping beams formed a single diagonal.
These hot, blue beams connected the blazing crystals atop the pillars according to a careful design. The beams began to rotate rapidly, also by design. Moments later, thousands, then millions, then billions of drops of water in the nearby Trerada Ocean were evaporated by the heat that was radiated from the hot, blue beams.
Before the pillars had been placed, the air was still and brisk above the barren surface of the rocky wasteland along the coastal region of Meridianus. After the hot, blue beams shone and began rotating, however, the temperature dropped to a freezing point and a powerful wind started to blow. The wind started to change direction – into a circular flow – whose center of rotation was the center of the crystal cornered polygon of pillars. Within minutes, thousands, then millions, then billions of shards of ice fell down from the sky — what were previously vapors of the Trerada Ocean waters were now chilled by the wind to form ice crystals.
This ice storm met with the now rapidly rotating column of wind. The wind moved the ice about – not in a chaotic way at all – and it could be seen to be taking shape. A structure was forming, and it was complex, with a large dodecagonal base, and pentagonal cylinders at its corners. The structure grew wider and taller, to tens of feet, then hundreds and beyond, until the structure had a base that was six thousand (6000) feet in diameter and a height that was over one hundred (100) feet. The ice had become a castle, and a long gently-sloping, snow-covered road led toward it. Then, the wind and the ice both ceased, and the twelve (12) crystals dimmed and shone no more, causing the rotating, hot, blue beams to vanish, as well. The rocky land was now snowy tundra. During all of this, the five (5) smallest cold red suns visible in the southern sky remained, but they did little to warm the now frozen, snow-covered land.
A fleet of sixty (60) ships was waiting at the northern coast, with the largest having shining, silver sails and a crystal hull with the appearance of a diamond. The ship was brilliant to behold, but its occupants were dressed to outshine it.
A retinue of twelve (12) advisors – Cassius being first among them – was adorned in silver and purple robes. They disembarked from the ship, surrounded by two hundred ten (210) figures dressed in white and clearly armed and armored for battle. In their center was Octavian in imperial dress, wearing silver boots, gold epaulets and a crimson cape. He was giving directions to his advisors around him, and they, in turn, to the guards around them.
Imperial Prince Octavian walked along the snow-covered road and approached his new castle of ice, obviously pleased with its rapid construction, as well as its placement near the Trerada Ocean, whose waters granted him his robust health and his handsome appearance. He triumphantly lifted a crystal chalice and drank the powerful waters from it. That the castle was made from those same waters – albeit frozen – only multiplied his satisfaction. From the other ships, thousands upon thousands of additional armed and armored figures alighted to the shore, and they followed the group that included the Imperial Prince.
Several persons broke off from the main group and drank the waters of the Kazofen Ocean from their own vials, thereby becoming energized. Using the powers they gained from those waters, these workers began sculpting some of the snow and ice crystals into statues of Octavian. This was as Octavian had previously ordered, so that all who approached the castle would see his glorious likeness standing before them, larger than life.
Octavian entered the front archway of the castle, walking through a hall and seeing the reflections of his advisors and guards and himself, ever pleased with his own appearance. At the age of fifty (50), he was more stunning to behold than many a man of thirty (30). Each of his reflections repeated this truth before all eyes, and the reflections of those reflections did little to diminish this.
Various archways along the main hall led to side rooms: quarters for his subjects, advisors and guards; storage for their armaments; and safekeeping for his future treasures. His personal guard and the armed warriors that followed broke off to either side to take up their places in this icy castle. Octavian and his advisors approached a large room in the center, and he sat upon an ice throne, which had the appearance of several carefully cut and placed precious stones. Octavian began surveying the dodecagonal room, and its perfect mirror-like walls. When he sat upon his throne, his appearance was reflected over and over, from wall to wall to vaulted ceiling. His presence was made known to all in the room, wherever they stood, so that they could admire his appearance at all times. Cool, red light from the suns entered in through the translucent ceiling.
Imperial, Prince Octavian then commanded his advisors, saying: “Call out to the nearby cities and towns. Let each of them pay tribute to me now, taking from their finest crystals to present to their new liege.”
“As you command, Your Imperial Majesty,” Cassius said, and his words were echoed by the other advisors.
There were eight (8) nearby cities and towns within a half day journey. To each was sent an advisor, and each of those took five (500) troops prepared for war. They entered each locality, inquiring as to who was its wealthiest resident, who was then given a small, silver rectangular slab, with a carefully etched summons. The summons demanded their appearance before Imperial Prince Octavian by this time in two (2) days. The summons clearly stated the requirement to pay tribute from the local treasury in rich and brilliant crystals. It was hour number nineteen (19) of thirty (30) by the time the visiting companies of advisor-led troops arrived in each of the towns – a time that was told by the red suns beaming down upon the sundials in the town squares. The sundials were necessary structures for all towns and cities to keep a standard calendar for proper recording of commerce within and without, and often rivaled mechanical clocks in accuracy.
In one small town in particular, these goings on were observed by a certain oath-taking historian named Judith, whose outward appearance was that of a somewhat attractive woman at the age of forty-five (45), but whose actual age was one thousand two hundred thirty-nine (1239). She carried a vial on a chain around her neck, and on the vial were the classical markings that denoted the passage of time. From the vial, she drank of the waters of the Ursegan Ocean. These waters slowed the flow of time within her, and thus multiplied her lifespan many times, thereby enabling her to live through the centuries and chronicle the events of villages, towns and cities, small and large, on every continent, and on voyages across every ocean. Traditions and laws for millennia gave oath-taking historians a specific code of conduc
t.
The First Tenet of The Chronicler’s Oath:
Be present at all significant historical events, and many mundane events, recording precisely and accurately every detail. Do this so that knowledge will be preserved.
Judith would be visiting this Imperial Prince Octavian, as the visit by the company of troops and the decree they delivered qualified as historical events.
The day after the next, the wealthiest residents from each of the eight (8) towns and cities made the journey over the wasteland, carrying chests and bags of treasure or other gifts, most of them being nervous, with some being very nervous. Along with them walked Judith, carrying only her book of chronicles, and proceeding entirely calmly. All nine (9) of them walked the snow-covered road, gently ascending toward the giant ice castle. On the approach, they passed by ice sculptures, presumably of the castle’s liege. Judith made rough sketches of these sculptures in her book, but they were not particularly well-drawn, because she was not particularly skilled in drawing, though she was highly attentive to detail.
The group entered the castle, walked its halls and approached the throne room. Some of them were wondering how the giant ice castle appeared so quickly, others suggesting that it was there all along and carefully concealed by great powers. When they entered the central room, they saw the stunningly handsome Octavian seated upon his throne. Judith was aware, but entirely unimpressed, by his appearance: her desire for men had died many centuries ago. Only her hunger for knowledge remained.
The chief advisor, Cassius, called out: “All bow before the Imperial Prince Octavian, Ruler of this land, Master of this Castle!” All but Judith complied, as she was not subject to ordinary authorities.
The Second Tenet of The Chronicler’s Oath:
Be not subject to kings or emperors, priests or generals, judges or criminals, sages or fools. Instead, know of their affairs, without fear of their power, or dread of their actions. Submit only to the Law of the Chronicler’s Oath.
Judith introduced herself to the advisor, Cassius, who then announced the presence of the historian: “Your majesty, our proceedings shall be chronicled by the trustworthy Judith, of one thousand two hundred thirty-nine (1239) years.”
Octavian sat upon his throne and waited to receive his gifts. At this, Cassius pointed to each of the local aristocrats, signaling them to come forward. They were escorted up the stairs leading to the pedestal upon which was the throne was situated.
Judith went ahead, unescorted, and stood waiting by the throne, witnessing the approach of the aristocrats, and recording all of the events into her book.
One by one, the aristocrats climbed the steps up to the throne upon the pedestal and approached Imperial Prince Octavian, presenting him with their tribute, which was a chest or a bag containing diamonds, sapphires, emeralds or rubies. The containers were placed down at Octavian’s feet and opened before him by the giver.
Octavian looked at the largest gemstones and could see his reflection in some, saying: “Excellent, nearly worthy of me.”
Others gemstones were too rough, however, and did not give a flattering reflection. “Improvement is needed,” Octavian said of these, and he handed these to another advisor – who remained standing beside his throne – named Nikolai, who drank anew of the waters of the Kazofen Ocean from his own vial, becoming thereby energized. Nikolai then held the rough gemstones in his hand and applied a slight, carefully calculated pressure, reforming the gems as if they were clay. After this work, Nikolai handed the modified gemstones back to Octavian, who now seemed pleased that he could see his reflection in their facets.
“Excellent, Nikolai. This gemstone was saved…as was the life of the one who gave it,” Octavian said.
Judith noted the advisor’s power for the manipulation of gems, deducing that he probably drank from the waters of the Kazofen Ocean, which gave him power to alter crystal and stone. She approached Nikolai and looked at the vial he wore, noting that it was marked with the classical symbols denoting diamonds and stones. Judith also noted Octavian’s every word and gesture, and she understood the threat, as did everyone else; however, it was not a threat to her, personally, in any way.
After receiving each of the gifts, the presenting aristocrat was sent down the stairs leading from the pedestal to the throne room floor. Octavian seemed pleased with the gifts from all of the aristocrats except for one, who brought many bags of grain and rice and barley and oats, and large baskets of grapes and melons, all fresh and sweet and pure: the first fruits of the land from his town.
Octavian rose from his throne, shouting furiously, with an expression of such hate on his face that it rivaled the horrors from the bottomless pit of dark spirits. To that aristocrat, Octavian said: “Why is it that you enter into the presence of an Imperial Prince having nothing of value to give? Do you wish to insult me, to cause me shame and pain before my audience, by giving such a meaningless gift? Am I not worth pleasing with a gift of the finest precious crystal and gems? Am I not imperial in your eyes? Or do you not believe in imperial authority at all? You had nearly two (2) day’s warning, and the people of your town could not procure a treasure? You could not even borrow from one of your neighboring towns to bring an adequate tribute?”
The aristocrat, a wealthy farmer, answered him: “Your Imperial Majesty, we are a farming town, and produce the finest grain and rice in abundance. We do not have mines for gems, like all the towns around us, but instead all our land is for agriculture, and we feed our neighbors. They pay us with their labor, working the land under our direction. Our wealth is measured in the finest food which we gladly give to Your Imperial Majesty in great abundance.”
The Imperial Prince stared down at him, and said: “Of your food I have no need. It is most definitely not a proper tribute. I demanded tribute of treasure in crystals and gems, be it diamond or ruby or emerald or sapphire. You think it enough to bring me food? Instead, you bring death upon yourself and your entire town!”
Octavian called to a guard captain, saying: “Captain Dominic: send five hundred (500) warriors to kill all persons in that town.”
Judith recorded this exchange in her book, fearing for the people, and realizing that Octavian was either insane…or immensely foolish. He was definitely vain, she knew, as most of what she saw of him was his staring into gemstones to see a reflection.
Captain Dominic hesitated, not wishing to kill farmers, who clearly had great utility, and he feared that their death would disrupt the other communities and arouse rebellion.
Even Cassius spoke into Octavian’s ear, saying: “Your majesty, please forgive this farmer’s foolishness. It might be better to exact a double or triple toll on the other towns for their gemstones and crystals, thus pleasing Your Imperial Majesty all the more. Yet, the people of those towns still need to eat, and these farmers are useful, if not the most courteous.”
Judith was close enough to overhear this, and wrote down Cassius’ whispered comment into her book as part of the historical record.
Octavian thought of the mockery he had received as a child and as a young man: he remembered how he wore the “face of death” and received no regard for his hideous appearance – only scorn and rejection. Now, he wanted more than acceptance. To make up for what he had lost, he wanted outright worship. Rage at this deprivation of adoration burned in his soul hotter than all of the blue suns. He shouted ferociously, saying: “Burn them all to death! Burn the flesh from their insolent faces, and bring to me their charred skulls! Let them know my pain! Start with this one, and then bring death to his entire town!” The sound of Octavian’s voice shouting the horrid command filled the throne room, easily carrying down to those people still standing at the foot of the stairs leading to Octavian’s throne upon the pedestal.
Cassius drew back, suddenly filled with fear at this magnitude of hatred, wastefulness and foolishness that Octavian was demonstrating. Yet, Cassius was not filled with compassion for the would-be victims, as he was certainly willing to ruthl
essly exterminate obstacles. Rather, he was more afraid that useful people would be wasted for such a trivial reason as vanity, and that the loss of the benefit of their services would lead to a significant reduction in his own future profits.
Captain Dominic laid down his sword, in disgust and refusal, believing this to be too foolish, and worse than useless, given that an adequate farming community would be necessary to provide supplies for troops. “Your Imperial Majesty: Taking a share of the crops from local farms is standard operating procedure for a military force, and these farmers were certainly cooperative, which was for the best,” he said.
Captain Dominic wanted to say more, but he held back. He knew that murdering farmers because they could not also produce precious gems as tribute was purely idiotic, or insane, or even demonic, and served no useful military purpose, not even to instill fear and obedience.
Captain Serafina, the twenty-six (26) year old captain of another guard troop, was also present in the throne room. She sought a taste of Octavian’s handsome flesh, and had a powerful womanly desire to carry Octavian’s bloodline. She also had a ruthless nature in battle and no sympathy for those she deemed to be obstacles, whether outside or within the circles of power. Serafina drank the waters of the Nabavodel Ocean, which gave her speed and strength in battle. She would obey Octavian absolutely to gain a closer position of power, and to have a taste of his intimate love.
“Are you a traitor, Captain Dominic? I will show you what it means to serve in the military. Standard operating procedure is obeying orders, in case you have forgotten,” Captain Serafina said.
Captain Serafina them took a torch from the wall of the throne room and climbed up the steps leading to the throne upon the pedestal. Once there, she held the torch to the offending aristocrat’s face, burning the flesh from it, while he screamed. She cut off his hands and feet with a sword so he could not run or put out the flames. When the flesh was burned from his skull, she threw a cloth over it to extinguish the flame, and then she cut the skull off from the body with her sword. She approached the throne, knelt down, and gently handed the charred skull over to Octavian, leering at him, desiring him. “Your Imperial Majesty, may this please you,” she said.
