Authors: Elaina J Davidson
Tags: #dark fantasy, #time travel, #apocalyptic, #swords and sorcery, #realm travel
Neither man
realised the crowd had fallen silent and heard the heart’s wish of
the long patient blood.
The roar that
ensued after the word ‘freely’ was loud, sustained and without
reservation.
Gabriel
laughed aloud, bowed, and the acclaim rose higher.
Then there was
silence, breathless with expectation.
“Luvans!
Yesterday the stones consecrated the city! Yesterday the blood was
given as a gift to the eternal stones! Today we enter what is new,
a future! Behold! Grinwallin shines for all!”
Indeed, every
window and doorway lit. The great arches shed gold like liquid and
the streets undulated as if awash. It was not the sun and it was
not staged either; it was the soul of a fair and wondrous city. And
then there was more. Birds came winging through the amber sky,
singing songs of praise, and flew into the stone landscape as if
coming home, settling on walls, fountains, rooftops, there to sing
musically, calling folk to come, come within.
A great surge
of movement as thousands moved towards the massive stairway,
entered through the huge open gates and danced ever upward.
Last to go
were the royals, with smiles so tearful and happy simultaneously it
could well break hearts.
The
Brotherhood stood turned to stone.
“Valentin, my
hand is extended,” Gabriel prompted.
“You will
never hold it!”
Gabriel spoke
to the others.
“Those of you
who desire to join us will be made welcome.”
He paused and
smiled when many surged forward and headed for the stairs.
“Those who
doubt whether this city is able to contain us and protect us, know
this, Grinwallin was built according to a profound symbiosis
between the resident sentience of this world we dared claim as our
own and the royal blood of another world. We are not magicians; we
are sorcerers. We have hidden ways in the mountain and hidden
sanctums. There are consecrations in the rock of the mountain
perhaps only a far future generation may stumble upon. The city was
built to withstand siege and this plateau is able to contain wars
to combatants without loss of innocents. Grinwallin will be a happy
place, but it is also a city of last resort. You will expend
yourselves on her walls if you dare attempt breech. Now, and this
is the final time I shall say this, your Order is welcome and your
ways will not be interfered with, nor your magic and religion
curtailed. Accept that your voices too are cherished, but know you
cannot hold the power. What say you?”
Roughly a
third had entered the city. And now a further third moved away - if
more warily than the first exodus - and vanished into Grinwallin’s
embrace.
Valentin had
not moved.
Gabriel looked
at him.
“You need
wealth to provision a city that size,” Valentin smiled.
“Naturally,”
Gabriel murmured.
Valentin made
a disgusted sound.
“Before you
go,” Gabriel said, his voice deceptively soft, but the edge of pure
steel was clear, “know there is now a schism in the Brotherhood.
Those within the walls have the right to enter the new Temple and
will choose new leaders. You, however, unless penitent, are not
welcome there, and this little building on the plain will be
removed by dawn tomorrow. Grinwallin is mine, Valentin, remember
that.”
The priest
turned back to him. “Be careful of arrogance, Gabriel. The mighty
on their self-created pedestals fall far harder than ordinary
mortals.”
Gabriel lifted
eloquent eyebrows.
Valentin
stalked off.
“Grinwallin,
my Lord?” a younger priest queried.
“It lays in
the embrace of time, my friend. Grinwallin, City of Eternity.”
The priest
nodded and then, “Your majesty, I … I …”
“You may enter
freely.”
The man bowed,
smiled and then hesitated. “Grinwallin has another meaning, does it
not?”
For the first
time Gabriel’s controlled face revealed uncertainty.
“Yes, but it
is an enigma at this point. There is a veil between us and the one
who may come and be as close to godhood without actually being a
god. Time will reveal that path to us.”
The priest
bowed once more and then walked sedately towards the city that was
Grinwallin, fairest of cities.
Gabriel
flicked a last glance over the much-depleted Brotherhood and
followed the priest with measured, deliberate steps.
A new era had
begun.
Chapter 23
Dreams
; where a visitation of an
event occurs in the unconscious and may be recalled
Dream incubation
; a deliberate
state, preceded by cleansing rituals
~ Titania
Dictionary
T
he world flourished.
There was the
breadbasket continent Kantar, the great cattle ranges of Atrin, the
tourist playground that was Senluar, the marvels of learning Limir
offered and there was Tunin, home of Grinwallin.
Grinwallin
alone caused Luvanor to appear of magic and prosperity to an
outsider, were such to come. Grinwallin was mighty and fair and
revelled in riches and growth. And Grinwallin was self-sustaining,
which translated into wealth for other centres; Grinwallin asked
nothing that could not be paid for with a smile. There were
underground lakes, a fast flowing river of fresh water, and there
were grottos for plants and animals, for industry and art and all
conceivable things. Grinwallin even possessed an army, a force for
peace.
Thus was
Grinwallin revered without envy and Luvans traded, studied,
travelled, played, became wealthy, lost their riches, loved, hated,
paid homage to their king, prayed to their gods and dabbled in all
manner of pursuits.
They built
great sailing ships, manufactured practical and wonderful tools,
furniture, devices and toys. They printed nonsensical and profound
books, produced humorous and serious plays. They raised clever
children, lazy children, many children, and went about their daily
lives as most other cultures had in the past, do in the present and
will in the future.
Craft able to
fly were reinvented, biological and long-lived. And as they began
to understand themselves, their place in society and the natural
order, thus they lengthened their life spans. As the techniques to
better craft were discovered and comprehended, thus they learned to
apply that knowledge to their own biology. At first it was a
healthy lifestyle of genetic tweaking, and later they realised
magic could be employed to advantage also.
In Year One of
settlement the average lifespan was sixty years; by the year 1960
expectancy soared to a remarkable one hundred and forty.
As Luvanor
flourished and Luvans lived longer other changes crept in.
Magic and the
understanding of it grew pronounced in everyday life and soon
libraries were available to inform on all manner of spells.
Gradually
people were more secretive, while appearing outwardly unchanged.
Secretive behaviour is a fertile breeding ground for secrets, and
secrets instil a sense of power over others, and that power often
leads to more profound power, then to arrogance … and power
corrupts. Thus it was once with the Brotherhood, and thus it came
to the royal family and thus it spread into most Luvans.
Here the
schism in the Brotherhood grew wider and ever more dangerous, and
even common folk went about with secret anxiety over the future. In
the year 1960 all appeared normal and prosperous and the world
certainly gave abundantly, yet under the surface cauldrons bubbled
and seethed.
Then the first
in a series of disasters struck. First were the encompassing fires
on Atrin that decimated the grazing ranges and burned the majority
of the livestock and thousands of fleeing Luvans. The volcanic
islands in the south abruptly lived up to their names. Only a few
lost their lives, but sulphurous smoke spread to the southern
regions of Kantar, Atrin and Limir. Acid rain killed plant life in
those regions and sickened hosts of animals and people. A great
hydro-dam bursts its banks after weeks of heavy rain on Tunin and
farmland flooded - thousands died.
A year later a
giant earthquake struck Senluar and in the aftermath of tidal waves
and massive volcanic eruptions it became known only a few survived
at sea. An encompassing ring of new islands formed, each spewing
molten rock high into the heavens and beyond this ring of fire a
deep trench fell open in the ocean. Senluar was abandoned, both to
its fate and to time, and for a thousand years it was spoken of in
hushed tones … and then forgotten. Nobody lived there again.
Luvans, ever
involved in omens and premonitions, knew something was wrong.
Something huge and annihilating was on the way.
They did not
realise they were themselves at fault.
Challis was
queen of Luvanor, the first ruling Queen in a new world’s
history.
She was a
beautiful woman, and vicious. Her four brothers died under
mysterious circumstances and a surviving nephew was sent into
fosterage without an inkling as to his birthright. Some said
Challis merely hedged by keeping the young one alive, in the event
she could not bear a child. It was said she would rather die than
spoil her beauty with childbirth.
In the
previous five hundred years the largess of the royal clan gradually
decreased and the prevailing rumour was inbreeding weakened them;
many died in infancy. Challis and her four brothers were the last
but two of a once mighty family, and the four brothers were ashes
in the wind, the nephew ignorant, and the only other royal was
Challis’ great-grandmother, considered too old and senile to bother
dispatching. Unfortunately she was also too old to curb her
great-granddaughter’s excesses.
In the year
1965, on the cusp of autumn, Queen Challis had a dream and it
disturbed her so much she sent for the head of the Order of
Brothers, they who were the new brotherhood in schism with the
old.
It was the
first time in eight hundred years a royal conferred with the Order
and it would prove their - the royal family, such as it was -
undoing.
Alexei coveted
power and when the summons came from the queen he saw a way to
further his ambitions.
A summons had
not been entertained, but it would be foolish to waste the
opportunity.
He dressed
carefully, aware of Challis’ predilection for beautiful things, and
spent time on his appearance, shaving off a year old beard and
trimming his bright gold hair to fall coyly over his eyes. No woman
could resist the vulnerable touch.
The Queen was
a-bed when he was admitted to her presence and he smiled.
Perfect.
“Your Majesty,
it is an honour.” He possessed the kind of voice men envied and
women went weak over.
Challis
blinked at him. An unexpected pleasure, she thought, flicking her
gaze over him. Well. “How are you called, priest?”
“I am Alexei,
my Lady.”
Trim body,
attractive face, beautiful hair, style, sexy smile. He would do.
“Alexei, please, sit here. I had a dream and find it disturbs
me.”
Alexei bowed
and sat on the stool close to the bed. A dream could be interpreted
in many ways; how convenient for him. “A dream, my Lady?”
Challis sighed
and sat up, allowing her attire to slip enticingly. She noticed his
eyes move minutely, and thrilled. Ah, definitely attracted, yet
clever enough not to show it. “My father was an expert in dreams,
Alexei, but I find myself wanting.”
Your brothers
were too, woman, but you were too vain to bother - greedy bitch.
Ah, well, greed begets greed; we shall use each other then, shall
we?
Aloud he said,
“I have experience in dream symbols, my Lady. I shall aid in every
way.” He dared to stress ‘every’ and saw her smile.
“I am happy to
hear it,” the Queen murmured.
Alexei took on
a more formal, listening pose. “Will you tell me, Your
Majesty?”
She frowned
then and drew her nightgown up. He realised the dream was
thoroughly disturbing and experienced a sense of disquiet.
“I was walking
in the Great Hall,” she began and forgot the lure of flesh. “It was
autumn, such as this day heralds, and I paused to stare out over
Tunin. I saw a glinting on the plain, a massive manifold glinting,
and realised I looked upon thousands of vertical spears. This is no
strange sight on the plateau, for Grinwallin’s army often marches
in training, yet I had never seen so many and I did not recognise
the armour of those soldiers. They were strangers, priest, and that
is not a good omen.” She glared at him, as if daring him to refute
her, and added in a rush, “It’s a known fact Grinwallin was raised
against invasion from other races, against Luvan extinction.”
Alexei drew
breath. Devils’ breath, this was no small dream.
“Priest?”
Challis demanded.
“My Lady, is
this the first time you have dreamt this?”
“Yes.
Why?”
Alexei bowed
over his hands. “In my experience, my Lady, one needs be wary when
images recur. I do understand why you found this worrisome, yet I
suggest we wait until it comes again, if at all.”
“Nice words,
well thought out, but it is not worrisome. This is disturbing and
if it does not recur it must be a vision.”
She listened
to the teaching after all. He cleared his throat. “My Lady would be
right.”
“You must
throw the stones for me.”
He stilled.
“That would not be wise.”
“Why not?”
“Augurs are
the speciality of the Old Brotherhood. Your ancestor King Gabriel
did away with that ancient tradition for the new order. I am not
very proficient.”