Haze of Dusk (A trilogy) (5 page)

Lastly, the east castle is called Elaine, named after the goddess of the sky. This castle is shaped square, and is surrounded by water. It is very similar to Doomsvell but i
t is small, as the residents are the little people, the yolk race: this includes the leprechaun, gremlins, gnomes, tellems, imps and many others who are enforced into the cynical war.

Of all the castles, the overpopulated and the largest one is Doomsvell.  Our war castle is a beautiful place, built by hand, but touched by magic thousands of ye
ars ago.  It’s built on top of Mount Snegnio and carved in black and gray stones. It has three floors, and is shaped triangular. The journey takes hours, but the road has an end, revealing water.

The c
astle has a division that separates the sexes. However, girls and boys share classrooms dissimilating it from Duolic. The courses that’ll be given to us are to prepare us for the war—a few hours of physical training, and fewer hours of combat education. At least, I’m done with simple lecturing. No more arithmetical equations, no more language simplicity. I’m liberated, and that makes me feel accomplished.  

We
have plenty of time to kill. So Srogeri consumes me with his knowledge, explaining the castle's living arrangement. The castle has two main- districts, the west for the girls and east for the boys. In the west of the castle is the women’s dormitory, there're approximately three hundred to five hundred healers, also known as curers. Unlike the boys, the girls' rooms are not separated by kind, for healers are known as priestesses—all powers are likely the same, telekinesis, rarely telepathy, healing, and mother earth’s control, that’s if mingle with the sovy race. The females do not need staffs. They use their skills by improvement of potions. Still, healers identified as priestesses are in the highest rank, either old aged, or extremely powerful.

Since Jorsay is a magician, a young staff user—
he will sleep in the harpoon dormitory. Harpoons are appointed as magicians who one day will become wizards. If Jorsay was to be a sorcerer, then he would join the dormitory of the olpes.  Considering the facts, I consider a great dilemma… I'm disastrous when utilizing a staff. Once I say this to Srogeri, I give him something to think about. As he attempts to find a solution to our problem, I question how will a girl like me, one who has never been in contact with a man, is going to sleep in a room filled with boys. I was taking that quite well. Just picturing it makes me giggle, until their nudity embarks my thoughts.   

There’
s a last region that stays north of the castle. They’re called the warriors. They're a combination of races that fight with weapons but have no magic what so ever. There are thousands of them, mainly masculine. Srogeri says they are behind the castle, but the east dormitory people don’t encounter them until the training hours. The warriors' training includes high physical training for twelve hours. They are the first to lose their lives in the war.
“Are we almost there? I’m so excited,” I’m frenzied over entering Doomsvell. Srogeri who relaxes groans,

“I’m starting to believe you chose to do this mai
nly for yourself and not Jorsay.” I purse my lips. He knows me well. “Oh, I forgot to ask you, did you bring me anything from that ten day-vacation of yours?” When I don’t want to answer, I just change the subject. It never works with Morgan, but surely it always works with Srogeri. “Vacation…it
was
not
vacation.
I was trying to get you into a learning society. I was thinking of bringing you a coconut. There is a tree in Asteli Mount, it is strange…seems to be put there by magic, for our land has no palm trees…especially coconut trees, that fruit is extinct.” My heart bounces.
No, that’s impossible, it can’t be… nature’s magic law would’ve diminished that.

“Tree…coco…ha-ha-ha…that’s mad.
” I say foolishly and not very believable.

“I know
. It is very odd. There is truly no explanation. The elves think it might be a sign from their god. A sign to the end of all this war, if so…I truly hope so.” I bite my lips. It’s my tree…but why is it still there? Holy crap, could it be Khysso is so powerful he can break nature’s magic law. If so…he has to be the most powerful sorcerer in the universe. I have to tell him, I have to ask… just a little longer.

“We are here.
” Srogeri words startle me. He steps outside. I’m still shaken by the tale of the coconut-tree. I hop down gazing around. We are in the end of a path. There’s nothing but water ahead of us. The narrow road has millions of dehydrated trees on the sides. A fuming wind prickles my skin, rubbing its heat on me.

“Where’s the portal?” I
ask seeing the water that encircles us, water created or maintain by the elves. I really don’t know the secrets of the castles, nobody does, not even Srogeri. He looks at me, and pushes a nod, symbolizing it is time. I take a red small container and discreetly drink it. I gag, for it tastes like putrid milk, with a hint of lemon acid. He cautiously puts a foot on the water, yet his foot does not sink in. He places both his feet now, and stands holding his staff. I walk towards him and set my feet beside his. “You might feel strange, but it’s the potion. Do not show pain.” I nod. The water around us lifts, twirling beneath our eyes. Unexpectedly, my body yanks down. I brusquely become woozy, unwell, a piercing soreness flows in my veins—hot, almost deadly. I hold the irritation. I’m not going to show weakness.  I’m suffocating. I think I’m dying. I try to consume air, but the agonizing pain does not allow a gulp. Then, little by little and restfully the pain fades, and the fire within my vein warms up. My heart still races. I release a breath. I’m glad to be alive.

“Yes…it worked…” I murmur
looking at Jorsay’s hands.

“Shhh,
walls have ears here.” I hope he doesn’t mean that literally. But I understand his say. I partly smile, and gape all ways. We’re on the other side of the ocean, in the grounds of Doomsvell—we aren’t near the castle yet. There’s a long road similar to the one we left behind. But this road is different. It has a line of live trees on each side of the pathway. The trees sprinkle yellow puff flowers. The absolute wind rushes over us. The green pure aroma takes me to a place I’ve never been before.
Walking the trail to the castle, I whirl around the area, touching trees— smelling the air like an overexcited little girl. Although Srogeri scolds me for my overreaction and female sensitivity, I continue my girly behaviors.

Within
a short time we come across the main entry of the castle. Everything Srogeri told me about the place is indeed true. I stare taken aback by the vast castle. Slowly, we walk to the entrance, instantly fear rushes through my spine. I don’t know why; maybe because for the first time I’m heading into a different direction, maybe because for the first time ever I’m not performing life securely.

  “Vin
Srogeri!” a man shouts stridently. We look ahead of us. A six foot five man walks towards us. He’s overflowing with hair on his head and face, seeming to be from the yeti origin, but in a human form.  He wears a long black coat that almost covers his brown wool trousers, and black tunic. Srogeri laughs to see the man,

“Grasseo
Ronneto, well I’ll be damn. It has been a long time.” Srogeri says with a grin. It’s nice to see that expression of his part. “When I heard
Ye
were coming I said…it
cannot
be.
Vin
said ne’verr to step foot he’arr again. And how many times have ye rejected our’r invitation of becoming an influence he’arr. Thousands may I say. Now look at
ye
. Finally gave on to our’r favor’r. Welcome, my old friend.” Ronneto speaks in an unusual accent that is hard to understand. He pronounces the
R
with an extension.
They come close, and welcome one another with a fast-tap hug. Soon, they enter a conversation about our journey.  I watch them relate. It’s nice at first, but as the talking continues I fall bored and curious. Finally, Srogeri introduces me and explains who Ronneto is. He’s no other but Srogeri’s partner when in his years of the war. Like him, a rare survivor. He’s also the
arithmetical focus
, and the
staff statistic
lecturer
. He educates magicians to understand the staff they hold upon. The power a staff is capable of holding can be splendid if kept for long, so I heard.

Srogeri and Ronneto walk ahead of me
. They whisper among each other, speaking nonsense for all I know. I tried to overlook their secrecy and relax. I gaze around an inactive area that its view whirls my sentiments. Doomsvell obviously is admired by the greenness of nature. Is it fair they have what every outsider desires? But reversing my thinking—normally all the people of Doomsvell pass on to the other life. It’s the least the leaders could do for them—to live life in such a wonderful place, for such a short time.

We
go up solid stairs that eventually take us to the castle’s entry. At last we enter the war castle, straight to the main hall, a place that steals my breath away with its excessive golden shades and oak polished floor. The walls are overflowing with creative arts that dominate the pigments. The ceiling carries many large candles circular shaped chandeliers. The more I stare at the art on the walls, the more I grasp the colors twirl in a spherical motion, and the walls shift in an unbalance movement.

“
Don’t look too much at the colour’rs and walls young boy. Ye might just get giddy." Ronneto pauses his discussion to warn me. I fairly smile, trying to show some manliness. I ignore his warning and gawk at the art, the twirling makes me queasy.
Maybe I should obey him
. I straighten my head to their direction, and continue following them.

We
come in a greater room, with two pairs of curl stairs on the sides— one to the left and the other to the right. Looking directly to the center of the room, there is a red arch door.  “Remember’r, east is men, west is girls… so don’t ye try going in the girl’s dormitory. Albeit, the doors won’t allow you to go in even if ye try,” he taunts walking to the isolated red door. I purse my lips.
If he only knew I am a girl.
Ronneto opens the red door for us to go in. I grimace, there’s a brick wall.

“Don’t ye be afraid, go in,” I
take a deep breath and carefully insert a hand. A force pulls me in, taking me to another room.

I appear in a golden-brown room with a ceiling that makes the sorcerers on the painting come to life.  They fight noiselessly. Then abruptly it vanishes— I change my direction before I become sick.  There are over a hundred hectic people in the room. Most of them are young; thirteen to their twenties. The people talk among each other. They sound irritated and exasperated by something.

“
This is the order room. Here ye’ll get your bedroom number and ye will register’r as what ye is… a work schedule will be given to ye. For two months, ye will follow that schedule. Ye understands?” I nod. Ronneto gazes to the center of the room. There’s a round close, oak-counter that’s surrounded by impatient people. 

“Again
, she leaves people waiting…” he says in a sigh heading towards the counter.
“Reggia!” he growls slamming the counter with a hand. The candle chandelier center on the top begins shaking. A bright light turns on illuminating our sight. A beautiful woman with white wavy hair comes from that light, tainting our vista with feathers. By her long downward ears, I can tell her race is rare, probably an Aves shape shifter. She wears a brilliant white hood robe that goes well with her spotless pale face.

“I’m here. I'm here…I was taking a short break sire,” her voice
is squeaky, rather annoying. Ronneto seems to be a man respected and admired. He murmurs something that makes her blush. He then sights my way, gesturing for me to go to him. “Go, he’s going to help you.” Srogeri whispers. I rapidly shake my head.

“
There are others waiting first.” I concede. Srogeri narrows his eyes and crosses his arms on his chest. That’s enough to send me flying to Ronneto. As I stand near Ronneto, I hear angry rumbling of the people.

“Why he gets to be first…”

“Shhh… he is with Ronneto,” it’s all I hear. Seeing the admiration and importance towards the man, I ignore what others have to say.

“His last name is Zayras of Duolic,
first-name Jorsay,” he tells her. The stuck-up woman opens a book that appears to be too heavy to carry—a million page book I’ll say. The pages swiftly flip, the speed decreases stopping on its destination. She rests a hand on her chin.

“Jorsay Zayras, age fifteen… harpoon…”

“That i
s incor’rect, he will be with the olpes…” my eyes widen. In that short time they talked, could it be Srogeri told him the truth about me. Were they that allied… does Srogeri have such powerful connection? If so, why was he working in such a poor town like Duolic? “But it says here he is!” she burbles.

“He
WILL be with the olpes. Give him a vacant room with
good
warriors. People who can train him well and have been here for more than two years, ye comprehend?”

“But sire
, the leaders won’t like this…and if I do change it, I have to rewrite the schedule, and it will take a lot of my time. I am quite hungry, I haven’t eaten—”