Chapter 1
A/N: So, here is the first chapter of my new story; this one is shaping up to be a real scorcher! Stay tuned for more.
On a more technical note: the god Zeznind is the Gaiapalegan equivalent of Zeus, or the creator. All the people of gaiapalego share the same pantheon because their gods are undisputed science fact.
5 billion years ago, the god Zednind passed by the remains of an exploded star and had a sudden idea. He quickly gathered as much stardust as he could and, with a bit of a squeeze, condensed the cloud into a small planet. In that planet, he planted a seed. The seed of life.
Millions of years later, that seed had grown a small shell to protect itself and started to multiply in order to conquer this new world. Over billions of years the type of shell the seed used evolved and it began competing with its siblings over the planet. The shell evolved even further and soon the seed had to remind the shell that it was in fact just a shell, and not more important than the seed itself. The shell learned to ignore this.
One day a certain shell which had fur, opposable thumbs, a tail, and went 'ook', decided to try walking on two feet and decided it quite liked this arrangement. Over thousands of years it started making tools with its now free hands and even began communicating with its fellows with more articulated sounds than 'ook'. It began naming the other creatures, itself, and even its world. It called itself 'human'.
These new 'humans' thought themselves to be above all other creatures, but as is common in these situations, the truth was quite the opposite. Humans were idiots.
.o.O.0.O.o.
The six people who were perfect for proving this were currently meeting the king of idiots- or rather the king of Lyrasia.
King Theldes of Lyrasia was not a bad king. He knew his people, having, unlike many other kings, actually been born in his country, and so knew what really bothered them. He did his best to help his country, and his subjects, who were very practical, let him stay as king. They reasoned that a king who fails to please is better than a king who manages to displease.
At least, that was their approach until recently…
Theldes massaged his temples, then looked up at his guests.
"Yes?"
Islan knelt down on one knee, giving the others a meaningful look to do likewise. Gilbert slipped as he kneeled.
"Your Majesty, I have traveled all the way from the southern moors in order to answer your summons. What is it you wish to see me about?"
The king raised an eyebrow at the group. "And who are…these?"
Islan gave the rest a worries look. "Um…"
Aradiln stood up. "We are…" His forehead wrinkled, and then he remembered the secretary's words. "We are the Sponge Quorum, your Majesty." Gilbert and Lyra gave him an incredulous look. "We traveled here together, and haven't yet separated ways."
Theldes nodded. "Good. Don't. You will need all the help you can get." He said, turning to Islan.
He steepled his fingers, looking at the Quorum over them. "Three months ago, we lost contact with the village of Yanning, in the center of Ingen forest. Many villages quickly joined the list: Brinnig, Merter, Lummonam, Catlib – the list goes on. We soon found ourselves out of touch with every single village in the area. Next thing, big cities like Ephrea and Ginthern went silent. We are now receiving reports from only 23 settlements in all of Lyrasia. There may not be any armies at our door, but Gal is definitely under siege."
The king looked down at Islan. "I therefore charge you, Sir Islan Felanus, to go to Ingen forest, accompanied by these five fine warriors, and find out what is causing these villages to go quiet. If you can, stop it. If you can't, return here and I shall send larger forces ."
Aradiln looked panic-stricken. "Um, your Majesty, the forest of Ingen is full of maddened creatures, no doubt for the same reasons that the villages are being silenced…are you sure it is safe?"
Theldes stared out of a window as he answered. "No, but soon I fear that nowhere shall be safe…"
.o.O.0.O.o.
Islan unfolded a very official-looking piece of parchment. "Now, I have all the details here…the king has put you two," he raised his eyebrows at Grud and Demorish, "on probation. If you help us with our mission he is willing to grant you a…full pardon." He grimaced. "Gods help us then…"
Aradiln and Gilbert both started heading down a side road, away from the rest of the group. Islan looked up at them.
"Where are you two going?"
Gilbert looked at him. "Aradiln needs to go see the grand druid, and I need to go see the chief cleric. You remember? Those were the reasons we came here in the first place." He looked uncomfortable. "I mean, we will be back here in an hour or so, and we will still be going with you to the forest, but…(…)we need to check some things first."
"Oh," said Islan, "Alright then."
.o.O.0.O.o.
It took Aradiln quite a while to make it out of the city and up the steep and rocky slopes of Mt. Graighon, the colossal mountain that loomed over the capital. It was the tallest in all of Lyrasia.
He finally made it to an old and crumbling temple, cut into the mountain side. It was absolutely covered in moss and vines, and in its shadows he could make out a figure. It was an elf, wizened and hunched, dressed in a simple white robe. The grand druid of all of Mezoia.
Aradiln walked up to the old man, kneeled over and bowed. "Oh, grand druid of the forests, monarch of the flora, councilor of trees, I seek your guidance in a personal matter." The old man said nothing, so Aradiln continued. "Many years ago I came to you and requested my own patch, and you denied me it. Instead you apprenticed me to Jarred the druid and, when he died, I inherited his patch, as our code dictates. Now, that patch has been violated, and I stand before you today in request for a new one." Aradiln looked up at the elf, waiting for his verdict.
The ancient druid took a long time to think, his wrinkled brow contracting as he contemplated the decision. Finally, he spoke:
"I see you have indeed grown up, young Thyrdinal, but you yet have a long way to go before you are ready for your own land." He looked deep into Aradiln's eyes. "You still have much turmoil inside you, and much to learn. Your soul is not yet ready to settle. Therefore, you must go forth and travel the land, join your friends in their quest for truth and save this city. In doing so, you will learn much about the nature of your mind, and the nature of the world."
The old man's eyes were suddenly filled with pain. "And now, it seems the hour has come for me to unite with nature. My time has come." With that, his feet began to harden and broaden, turning the color of bark.
Aradiln was filled with sorrow and shock. "Master…" He then bowed his head in acceptance. "Thank you for your guidance."
The druid smiled, and then hardened into a short and thick tree, covered in knots and warped branches. Aradiln turned and left the hall, a frown slapped across his face.
.o.O.0.O.o.
At the same time - or around the same time, for time is relative, after all – Gilbert made his way to the great temple of Moradin in the central plaza, in order to inform the chief cleric of Drezner's activities.
Unfortunately, as soon as he got there and took one look inside he saw a familiar and not too welcome figure: tall with short black hair and covered in finery, Drezner the cleric was chatting with the high priest.
Gilbert was not happy.
In fact, he was so unhappy that he viciously kicked a vase to smithereens. That bastard was always twenty-seven steps ahead of them! The kick did of course not help the situation in the slightest, but Gilbert felt it had really helped him on the inside. He reflected on this as he tore down the street, trying his best not to scream.
He finally managed to locate the rest of the group, saw that Aradiln had returned as well and gave them the bad news: Drezner had managed to infiltrate Gal.
They had to leave immediately.