Chapter 3
Raising and Burying
Aram had been on a horse for three days now, and his lower body was making him painfully aware of the fact. Although Aram had intended to go directly to the city of Zeal in the royal palace, he simply was too tired to continue any more today. If the city of Zeal was the heart of the kingdom, then Kajar was its mind. This was where the primary research facilities of the kingdom resided, a home to thousands of scholars, each with his own personal area of expertise. The only thing missing from the city was the presence of the Three Gurus; they, of course, kept their own places within the palace at Zeal itself.
The city provided a perfect venue for all kinds of study. It had a wide seaport, with a commercial dock extending far out into the western ocean, and a high ridge of mountains couched the eastern end of the city, providing the foundation for the tallest of the spires in the opposite direction. Remarkably enough, the city elders had allowed a group of some of the more mechanically inclined among the population to embark upon an enormous mass transit system, utilizing a series of coal-powered winches and pulleys to convey massive cable cars over the surface streets. Construction was just beginning, but Aram had no doubt that it would be a sight to see when it was finished.
Aram walked his horse in through the heavy gates (also mechanized) and proceeded into the commercial district of the city. Aram knew exactly where he was going, but he still took the time to absorb the sights and sounds of the city. Every time he came here, the old familiar landmarks were replaced by something new, and in most cases, entirely different. Thankfully, the districting system that had served Aram so well in the past was not likely to be abolished any time soon, and he slowly made his way through the thick crowds of people to Corin Derman's inn, the Sea Breeze, in the far southwest corner of the city, by the western coast.
Aram gave two knocks on the stable door, and tossed a copper at the boy whose head poked out before a word had passed between the two. Still, money seemed to be a pretty much universal language, and if Aram knew anything about Corin, the boy would no doubt have the horse unsaddled and comfortably put up in a stall in no time. Corin was a man who had little tolerance for those who weren't willing to put forth a little extra effort to make sure that his patrons' stays were comfortable. That alone was reason enough to stay at Corin's, but for Aram, there was one reason in particular that kept him coming back: the view from the balconies off of the upper suites out over the ocean was unparalleled. Corin claimed that you could see the other side of the continent out over the ocean, but even if it wasn't entirely true, it was close enough to make patrons return time and again.
As he strode through the doors, Aram quickly glanced about the room, taking in the sight of the common room where he had been treated to a drink for the first time after he gained his officership. It was still just three o'clock, and the bar was devoid of customers. Behind the bar stood Corin himself, busily organizing his stock. The man was obsessive when it came to cleanliness, always making sure that his establishment was neat and tidy. This had struck Aram as highly unusual, until he heard the story of how this came about.
It was rumored that after Corin's marriage, he had suffered the only beating of his life; this in itself was not necessarily spectacular, but the community later found out that it was in fact Corin's wife, Alleth, who had given it to him, and while Corin was a powerfully built man, Alleth was a tiny woman, not weighing more than a hundred pounds. Even now, twenty years later, the man still stepped lightly when his wife entered the room with baked goods or more alcohol.
Corin turned around, a bottle of wine in hand, to see who it was coming through his door. Although Kajar was a relatively peaceful town, Corin had more than once been forced to kick out patrons who got a little too rowdy, and even though it was not yet midday, he didn't like to take chances. He was surprised, however, to see Aram, who had been absent from Kajar for the better part of the year.
"Corin! How has life been treating you, old friend? And where is that lovely wife of yours? I haven't had anything to eat all day, and I could go for a sweet roll or two."
"Aram, is that you boy? I recognized your voice, but you look completely different from when I last saw you. You were just a boy then, it seems, and now look at you. You've grown. What can I get for you, lad?"
"A drink at the moment will suffice. Have any of my old friends told you? I've been promoted; I'm only going to be able to stay here for the night, and then I'm off to Zeal for my installation. Would you have ever thought it possible? In just a few short years I've managed to make my way up to the rank of Lord Captain. I'd like to believe that it's due strictly to my skill, but I often wonder if there weren't a few strings pulled back here in the palace, if you take my meaning."
"You mean Melchior, do you? I wouldn't worry about that. He's wise enough to know that it would only do you more harm than good in the long run. Trust in the Gurus; they've been around for a long time, longer than anyone living. No, even if Melchior does have a soft spot for you, he would know better than to do anything of the sort, and taking away the value of your accomplishments wouldn't prove anything."
"Thanks, Corin. You always seem to know what to say." Aram flashed a smile. "In some ways, I wouldn't doubt that you know at least as much as any of the Three Gurus, and you haven't even had the benefit of their experience. Thanks for the drink; I think that now would be a good time to get up to my room, though. I've been on a horse for three days now, and my body has been giving me constant reminders since I got into town."
"Of course, of course. I'll have a couple of my boys take your things up and have your room prepared immediately."
With that, Corin proceeded into the anterior of the inn, returning with two young men who had been in his employ long enough for Corin to trust them, even though there had never been a single theft in the inn's eighty year history. After picking up the few belongings Aram had brought along with him, the porters led Aram up two flights of stairs, to a room on the third floor facing to the west out over the ocean. After paying the young men for their trouble, Aram closed the door behind them and reclined on the bed sitting in a corner of the room by a closet.
The room was adequately, if not extravagantly, furnished. A washstand stood opposite the bed, with a mirror behind it, and the closet had plenty of room in it, although there was no way that Aram could ever hope to fill it up with the limited wardrobe he had packed for the trip. On the side of the room facing the ocean, glass-paned doors opened out onto a balcony, where a weathered wicker chair sat opposite another made out of wood. All in all, the place had a comfortable, relaxed atmosphere. One day, Aram would be sure to bring Erina here. Of course, there was still the matter of patching up their relationship after what had happened the last time he saw her before leaving for the palace. Still, she always forgave him eventually, even if Aram didn't know exactly what it was he was being forgiven. At least time was probably on his side.
After a nap and a couple of hours of staring at the ceiling over his head, Aram sought out Mrs. Derman, enquiring about some method or other of cleaning off the dust of the road that Aram had hitherto been covered in. In just a little while, Aram found himself neck deep in steaming hot water, courtesy of Mrs. Derman and her two daughters, both of whom gave him a most curious look on the way out of the small building behind the inn which housed the baths.
Aram leaned back in the basin, letting the water ease all of his muscles at once. The palace was still a day away, but this short reprieve was a luxury he could afford. Even if he wasn't needed at the palace for another week, Melchior would surely keep Aram occupied for the duration of his visit, and despite Aram's love for his adoptive father, he could at times be quite exhausting, particularly when he was on the verge of a new discovery. If whatever he had gotten hold of was as important as that message seemed to make it out, Aram would have very little time to himself once he made it in. Aram briefly considered staying at one of the several inns which could be found in the palace city, but he immediately dismissed the thought. Once word had been sent to the court that he was in the city, there would be no way Aram could avoid a summons to the palace, and to refuse lodging there would be rude at best.
By the time Aram finally got himself dressed in clean clothes, the sun was already low in the northern sky. Aram stopped in by the common room to politely excuse himself for the night, and he made his way up the stairs to his bed. When he got there, he was more than a little surprised to find a note had been left on his pillow. Thinking that maybe one of the Derman daughters had gotten some foolish idea in her head, he didn't think much of it. The contents, however, turned out to be much more than Aram had bargained for. The note was written in an elegant, flowing script, and yet he could definitely tell that it had been composed by a man. His eyes slowly followed the text, as Aram could scarcely believe what he was reading.
Beware the gift of the Guru of Life; if wielded without a pure spirit and steadfast heart, it will bring naught but destruction and despair to mankind. It is pervaded by the hatred of life imparted to its very matter by the Draconians in their desire to preserve this planet. There will eventually come a time when you must take it up, but heed this warning! If you do not let it go in time, it will consume your soul, and you will become nothing more than a puppet for its pleasure, and its only pleasure is the shedding of blood. When the time of the test comes, you will know what to do. You have been forewarned; the fate of mankind for the next three millennia will depend on your decision!
Aram carefully placed the letter in the inside pocket of his jacket, and locked the doors from both the balcony and the hallway leading into his room. Someone had discovered that he was here in Kajar, someone dangerous. He hadn't even told Erina where he would be, hadn't even made the decision to stop over for the night until that very morning. The only way anyone could have known he was here is if he was followed; from which point, Aram couldn't be sure. The stalker could have begun from Everest Forest, or only a few miles out of town. One thing was clear in Aram's mind, though. If this person could escape his notice, he was not someone to be trifled with. Aram undressed, and drifted off to sleep, as the light of the twin moons shone down through a clear night sky in from the balcony.
Magus sat under a light post on the
street outside of the Sea Breeze, watching the tide waver under the influence
of the two moons, Astaris and Mentaris.
They were in opposition now, each exerting an equally powerful influence
on the ocean in opposite directions.
Eventually they would come together again, working in concert. Such was the relationship between the
heavenly bodies; so was it between Lavos and men. In this time they would be united, at war with
the Draconians, the Inheritors of the Planet, but such alliances inevitably
crumbled. Perhaps alliance was too
strong a word, as an alliance implies a mutual understanding between the
parties involved. This, like the force
of the moons, was merely a confluence of interests. In a few short centuries, mankind would once
again be opposed to Lavos, just like the two moons hovering in the night
sky. Schala had shown him the way,
though. This time, there would be no mistakes.
D'Argoth focused his thoughts as he stared at his reflection. The ceremonial robes, violet with golden dragons over the vestments, seemed unsuited to him, in his own opinion. As soon as the sun set, the ceremony would begin. Word had traveled as far as the port, and the entire populace was gathering around the Crystal Spire; the Raising would require the energy of the entire Draconian people, and the Spire, the ancient conduit through which the spiritual energy of the Dragon Gods could be tapped even in their sealed state, would be the focal point of the ceremony. Time flowed like sand, as D'Argoth once again went over the contents of the scroll in his mind, although at this point he could most likely perform the ceremony from beginning to end with a blindfold; of course, that was the idea to begin with.
The last rays of the setting sun flickered in the mirror, just as one of the lesser priests walked into the room. He gave D'Argoth a slight scowl, no doubt disapproving of the king's choice in the matter. Still, the young cleric knew as well as D'Argoth that the fate of the Draconian people hung in the balance, and that this was their last, best hope for victory. The priest gave D'Argoth a slight bow and bade him begin the ceremony. D'Argoth stepped out into the hallway, beginning the march that would determine the future of the planet. Followed by a slew of clerics, foremost among these the six Council members, he proceeded toward the open gates of Arraketh Palace, stepping out onto the Grand Avenue.
The length of the road into the city was lined from end to end on either side by Dragoons of the First Order, the most elite of the Draconian warriors. As the procession passed each pair they fell in behind, until a column nearly a mile in length finally passed through the town wall, silent save for the rhythmic step of the marching soldiers. Their faces were all of them grim, nearly emotionless. Each of those decorated warriors was no doubt old enough to remember the last Raising. They knew what was about to take place, and for all their masquerading, they were nervous. None of them could compare to D'Argoth, at least in that respect. He found it a miracle he could still find his feet without tripping, and the feeling only worsened the closer he approached the Spire.
He began to see the heads of townsfolk poking out of their windows. The courtyard surrounding the Spire was not large enough to hold the entire population, so those who had homes in town stayed inside, ensuring that room could be made for those who had traveled from far off for the ceremony. The ceremony's spell, once commenced, would encompass the entire city, drawing upon the spiritual power of every last Draconian. The procession gradually slowed down as it wound its way deeper into the city, as the people were more densely concentrated the further one approached the center near the Spire. By the time the column reached its destination, the crowd was so thick it was nearly impossible to make room for D'Argoth and the clerics to get to the Temple of the Wind, from which D'Argoth would perform the rite.
The Dragoons fanned out as they entered the Great Court, with the great Crystal Spire springing forth from the center. The soldiers formed a complete circle around the perimeter of the courtyard, surrounding the great mass of Draconian citizens crowded around the Spire. A path cleared before D'Argoth and the clerics now, leading straight into the Hall of the Scions. The Council members drew up, three on either side of him, and accompanied D'Argoth into the temple, up several flights of stairs and out onto the great balcony overlooking the Great Court. Here they formed a semicircle around him, each planting his staff into a slot in the balcony. By this time the sun had long set, and without the power of the four Sunstones, the only illumination in the town came from the twin moons and the stars that shone overhead. D'Argoth began.
"O Gods of ancient times, I beseech thee, lend us thy power in this our time of need. We are the Firstborn, those who favor your Will, and know your True Path. Give us the cleansing flame that you yourselves once wielded, that we might be victorious over our foes." Following this, D'Argoth presented the original scroll upon which the ceremony had first been written, raising it above his head with both hands. "Here is the Proof of the Pact, passed down to us by our forefathers. If it is your will, grant us this request."
The Council priests behind D'Argoth began chanting; softly at first, but slowly rising in a great crescendo as D'Argoth joined them. "Orees Ileatu Masanneth Verinictis…." A strange feeling began to creep over him, and D'Argoth realized that he was rapidly losing control of his body. His lips moved impossibly fast, as the words of the prayer issued from his mouth unconsciously, unbidden. The sound of what seemed like a great wave pounded in his head. The chanting continued to increase its pace; D'Argoth's mouth was a blur. A warm glow began to rise up from the city itself, surrounding the crowd gathered in the courtyard and spreading out over Korata itself.
"Laroness Jima Reneselle Estaries…." The chanting increased in magnitude, at this point drowning out everything else. Six bolts of pure white light shot out from the staffs planted on the balcony, piercing D'Argoth. The light of the glow surrounding the city coalesced into a solid sphere hovering over the tip of the Spire, where it began to spin rapidly. It shot straight up into the sky, out of sight before any of the Draconian people got a chance to look up. In response, a bar of pure energy thrust down out of the heavens encompassing the Spire, bathing it in blinding white light. Just as suddenly, the light stopped; the bolts from the staffs cut off as well, and D'Argoth collapsed to the stone floor of the balcony, again in control of his body. He looked out over the Courtyard to see what it was he had done, having been blinded in the flash of the Dragon God's response to the ceremony. He looked out, and knew immediately that he had been successful.
At the base of the Crystal Spire stood what seemed to be an enormous Dragon, although that was not entirely accurate. It was known as the Kageryu, a phantasm composed of pure spiritual energy, the union of the Dragon Gods and their Children in the most literal sense of the word, whose sole purpose was to wipe the planet clean of whatever threatened the Draconians. Weapons and magic could not touch it, not even Elemental power. Any force would be powerless against this, the greatest manifestation of the power of the Draconian people. There was no doubt in D'Argoth's mind that it would annihilate the humans; he shuddered at the thought of the havoc it would unleash, and not even the fact that he was saving his people could console him. "Highness, I understand now," he whispered. "Just like you, I have become trapped in this spiral of fate. Let us now see how it takes its course."
The next morning Aram woke up with a groan. Apparently, taking an extra day to get to the palace had not been the best of ideas. He had forgotten the pain that accompanied the day after one finished a ride, which was doubled by the fact that he still had another day's travel to get to his destination. Still, after a quick breakfast of hotcakes and coffee, he felt up to the task. Bidding farewell to Mr. and Mrs. Derman, he set an easy pace up the main road, putting him about four hours away from the palace. Highway guards gave a courteous nod to him as he passed, as well as a wary eye for the sword strapped to his back; this even though his uniform identified him as a soldier in Zeal's army.
War made people wary, and nobody in the service of the country trusted strangers entirely. Far too many had already been caught giving up valuable information regarding troop movements and military capacity in exchange for material wealth. Even worse than that, there had been reported cases of fanatics who claimed that humanity, if left unchecked, would destroy the planet, and decided that it was in their best interest to aid the Draconians. The only solution for these was unfortunately, execution. Thankfully, there had only been two or three such incidents.
Aram continued along the main road, so that around noon he began to spot farmhouses off in the distance to either side, places where people had other problems to worry about besides a Draconian attack. He passed several flocks of sheep as well, grazing over fenced in pastureland. Another hour riding placed him at the town gates of Zeal itself. After a brief inspection of his sparse belongings, Aram was allowed to pass through the gates, and he made his way through town. Security was tighter everywhere; a sign of the troubled times. Still, merchants would ply their trade, and plenty of shoppers were out at this time of day - mostly housewives, with a few others mixed in. Aram's horse kept him from wading through the mass of people too quickly, but he was in no hurry. Even counting his stay in Kajar, there would be plenty of time for him to meet with Melchior and find out exactly what it was he had gotten hold of.
Zeal had a distinctively different feel from Kajar. While Kajar's was an air of innovation and invention, where you could never quite be sure what to expect when you walked into a shop, Zeal was designed to project the image of something grand and austere. After the fall of the great meteor, the environment changed dramatically, ushering in a long and cruel ice age. When the ground finally thawed and the survivors crept out of their hiding places, Zeal had been the first settlement to establish itself. Over the next twelve centuries, Zeal's power would culminate in the creation of the palace, a testament to the city where mankind had risen from the ashes of the previous cataclysm. Broad avenues divided the city into a patchwork quilt, all evenly placed and perfectly organized. Tall spires reached out to the sky, some as high as two hundred feet, and the entire city was constructed of the purest white marble. When the sun dipped beneath the horizon, the entire city was bathed in its glow, giving the structures a surreal appearance, as if the town itself were alive. By far, Zeal was the grandest city in the human world.
Aram continued to make his way through the crowds toward the palace gates, eager to be able to relax for more than an afternoon. How he was going to avoid running into Melchior before then, he wasn't quite sure. At any rate, he was thankful when he finally made it through the busy commercial district up to the entrance to the palace itself. The guards greeted him cordially upon his approach; no doubt word had been sent along that the protégé of Melchior had arrived, and even if these were times of distrust among the citizens of Zeal, the soldiers of the palace Elite Guard had known Aram for a long time. The gates opened, and Aram made his way to the palace stables to have his horse watered down and fed. He then proceeded into the palace, where again several of the Guard awaited him. He was escorted to his usual room, located in the south wing of the palace, close by the workrooms of Melchior. With any luck, Aram would be able to avoid the Guru long enough to get cleaned up and at get a small meal. For all of the man's wisdom and experience, Melchior became as impetuous as a young boy whenever he made a really amazing discovery, and in his current condition, Aram wasn't sure he would be able to survive Melchior's prodding if he ran into him.
Fortunately for Aram, Melchior seemed to be too absorbed in his own work at the moment, as a notice on the front of the Guru of Life's door stated he couldn't see anyone until tomorrow morning. Having already cleaned up and taken supper, Aram lay back on the bed provided for him by the palace. If there was anything the military had taught him, it was to get sleep when you could; you never knew if you would get another chance anytime soon. His thoughts wandered back to Erina yet again. The feeling of worry that had been tickling his thoughts was coming back. Aram dismissed it as something irrational, a feeling that arose only because they had been separated. After all, nothing had happened yet, so why should anything change? The men in the outpost were for the most part experienced veterans, and Commodore Ibsen was a military man worthy of respect. As night enveloped the city, Aram stared out over the horizon, lost in the stars that shone so brilliantly. Right before he fell asleep, Aram thought he saw a thin beam of light shoot down out of the air, to touch the ground far off in the distance.
Erina sat alone on the ridge overlooking the fortress. Today's training had been especially difficult; simultaneous manipulation of lightning and water required a great amount of concentration, and more than one student came away from the exercise singed, even with only the minute amounts of magical energy Berem allowed them to use. Erina was continually amazed by the man's skill. Tasks that she considered nearly impossible he could perform effortlessly, and despite his protestations that in time they too would be able to perform the same feats, Erina had been unable to hold back her frustration when she herself was shocked this past afternoon.
"You know, you really were doing just fine, no matter what you may think. If you had concentrated a little bit more, I'm sure you could have gotten it."
Erina turned around to come face to face with Berem Macbeth. His approach had been so quiet, and she so lost in her own thoughts, that she hadn't even noticed him standing there. Now, it seemed her field skills were deteriorating, too! Erina gave an exasperated sigh. Nothing had gone well since the day Aram left, and she still hadn't forgiven him for that, either. How could he just lie to her like that? She could have ignored it had he not insisted on saying something as ridiculous as that he personally knew one of the Three Gurus.
"I suppose you came up here to offer a few words of encouragement, then? I don't need any. Just because some of us are more talented than others is no reason for me to complain. Besides, you had the benefit of studying under one of the greatest mages the world has ever known."
Berem sat down beside Erina. Even if Erina didn't believe it when he told her, she was one of the most talented mages he had ever seen. She could pick up on a spell after seeing it performed just once, and even if she didn't succeed in her first attempt, she remembered well enough to make it work the next time. Right now, though, Berem could tell that her mind was in disarray; over what exactly, he was not sure, but he could guess as easily as anyone in the outpost could what the source of her frustration was. While she and Aram had not made any secret of their relationship, they didn't exactly advertise, either; at least, not among the garrison or the other students. If Berem didn't address the issue now, Erina may be forced to at a time when other lives depended on her ability, and Berem was too responsible to allow that.
"You've been distracted lately; that much is obvious, and whether or not you believe me, Erina, you're one of the brightest students of magic use I've ever encountered. I am going to tell you this, and I want you to listen, do you understand? There are going to be times in the future when you may get frustrated, you may be confused, but when you're practicing your Art, you can't let anything else get in the way of it, do you understand me? Lives will depend on your abilities, your own included, and you can't bother to take the time to sit down and sort things out. Every mage, since the beginning of the Art, has had to deal with this at some point or another. Maintain your focus; even in the face of great pain and suffering, that is the supreme rule of a mage; it is what makes a truly great one. Gaspar would force me to practice under conditions that could almost be described as torture," Berem gave a brief smile, "but I am neither so cruel nor so dedicated to do that to any of my students. My only wish is that you come to understand what your obligations are, and deal with them accordingly.
"Oh, and don't bother trying to deny what goes on between you and Aram. I don't know if you realize it, but just about everyone here in this outpost sees how you two look at each other, and that you both mysteriously 'disappear' at convenient times. That's fine, it's part of living, but try not to let it interfere with your studies. Otherwise, you may never get the chance to do that sort of thing again."
Berem got up and quietly walked back down the hill toward the walls of the outpost. She will be one of the greatest. Berem thought to himself. Even if I have to force it upon her, potential like that cannot be allowed to go to waste. He made his way back to his quarters just in time for his evening meal. When Erina finally got through this phase, Berem doubted that there would be anything she couldn't accomplish.
Erina lost herself in thought upon the ridge long after Berem had left. More than anything, she hated it when people were irrefutably right, and Berem Macbeth had a habit of being right a lot. She couldn't let complications in her relationships interrupt her while she was casting, no matter how big a fool Aram had made of himself. Besides, in another couple of days, she would be in Zeal herself for Aram's installation; then, she would work things out with him. Until that time, though, she just had to concentrate that much more on her studies. By the time she made her way back to her quarters, nightfall had long since come, and the stars shone brightly through her window. Erina looked up from her reading just in time to see a beam of light come down to earth far off in the distance. What it could portend, she had no idea.
