Chapter Three
King Adelbern pushed aside the attendant that was trying to adjust the monarch's cloak with all the force his treasonous body could muster. "I am not a total invalid, young man." He said forcefully, making the necessary shift despite his left arm protesting painfully to the movement.
To be honest, Adelbern rarely dressed up in his full regalia as of late… the effort to do so was rarely worth it, and only seemed to make his illness worse. But this request for his summons he sensed would be different.
Devona rarely ever invoked a request to speak with him in an official audience; in fact, she had never done so as far as he could remember. On one hand, it somewhat hurt him that she gave him such a wide berth. He remembered a time when she was barely up to his knee, blissfully unaware that she stood next to royalty, gleefully showing him whatever triumph she had experienced in the garden or the stream behind her parent's homestead while her mother looked on in horror and her father laughed heartily.
On the other hand, he understood her reasons. Her father had raised her to be proud and independent, making her way through life on her own merits. It would not have been worthy of her that people might think her almost prodigal rise through the ranks of the military was because of the connections she had with the ruler of the land.
But she was asking for his presence now, and that alone would have made all the pain the illness racking his body could bring to bear. He had made a promise to Mordakai all those years ago that he would take care of Devona if anything were to happen. Anything the young lady wished at this point would be hers.
* * * * *
Devona felt she had been prepared for the knowledge that the King of Ascalon was in grave health, but she had been wrong, and the sight of him as he emerged from the back hall of the throne room nearly brought her to tears.
Even at sixty, King Adelbern had been an inspiring presence, barrel-chested with arms that were more like tree trunks than anything human, seeming to defy Grenth himself with his vitality and seemingly endless reserves of power.
Now, he looked more like something left to wither on a vine. His arms trembled as he slowly lowered himself into the gold and velvet throne, and she was almost certain he had grunted in pain when his back met the backing of the seat. Her companions were in a similar state of disbelief, not even sure they wanted to acknowledge this man before them was the monarch of their homeland.
Even his voice, once booming and demanding respect and obedience the moment it essayed had been strangled by the disease that had desecrated his body. He coughed violently before he could even utter his first words, angrily pushing away the efforts of the steward at his side as he regained the command of his lungs.
"Devona, my dear… I am sorry you have to see me like this." The once mighty king forced out.
"Your highness, you look as stout as ever." She replied with a wan smile.
"My sight may have grown feeble, but I know yours is as sharp as a keen bird of prey. Do not insult me with platitudes." The king answered, for a moment, recapturing his fiery spirit. "I am ill, I know it, and you all know it."
His features softened despite the pain that was building within him the longer he stood anywhere resembling upright. "It's been many years since I last spoke to you, Captain Devona. Tell me what it is you require."
"Actually, it is not me that needed to see you, your highness." Devona answered sheepishly, suddenly feeling guilty that she had roused the obviously ailing man from his rest. "I present to you Vekk, of the Asura. He was the one that needed to speak with you."
"The Asura?" King Adelbern asked rhetorically squinting as Vekk slowly stepped forward, his resigned sigh only adding to Devona's discomfort. "Yes, my scouts have told me of a new race of beings coming up from the depths of the earth, followed by the Destroyers that heralded the disappearance of the dwarves."
Another series of painful coughs racked the proud monarch, and this time he didn't have the strength to refuse aid, the almost sinfully young steward helping him upright, and offering what Devona guessed was some form of restorative drink from a thick mug.
"Please, your highness… it will help." The young man pleaded, moments later satisfied that the king had done as requested.
"Your eminence, had I known your condition was this severe, I would not have troubled you." Vekk said with a sincerity that surprised Devona. "I will also strive to make my tale as swift as possible."
"My health should not deter you from business you deem important, sir." Adelbern replied, successfully fighting back another crippling cough. "Do not shorten important details for the sake of my comfort."
"As you wish, your excellence." Vekk affirmed with another deep and respectful bow. Straightening, the Asura seemed uncertain as just where to begin, but once he again locked eyes with the battered monarch, the aged king's eyes defiant and proud, he knew just how to proceed.
"My people at one time flourished under the lands you humans ruled. We had cities and academies all throughout the deeps of Tyria… until the Destroyers rose up and ran us from our homes. With that menace abated, my people seek to reclaim whatever we can of our empire. Our history and knowledge are dear to us, and whatever we can salvage, we will."
"A noble exploit, sir." Adelbern acknowledged.
"One such citadel of knowledge resided underneath your lands; in fact mere miles from this grand capital of Rin, your eminence. My people called it Atal Ra; "The Rising Sun" in your language. Within it, the legendary S'sleth, who the surface peoples call The Forgotten, as I understand, maintained the highest honor for those who wished to be premier among our people in ways of learning."
"I myself was taught in those grand halls… floors of gold, tablets filled with knowledge as old as the birth of the gods themselves, wondrous devices that showed us things that would strain your mind just to comprehend their existence." Vekk intoned, his passion for the place clear to anyone who could hear. "When the Destroyers overwhelmed our Center Transfer Chamber, we feared and assumed it overrun and obliterated like all the other waypoints in our transportation network."
"I do not entirely understand your words, sir… but I think I do understand the general meaning. I'm guessing that your fears were proven untrue?"
Vekk smiled approvingly. "Yes, your excellence. My people half of one month ago received a blessed communication from Atal Ra. The academy had been besieged, and had been damaged, but it still stood… they had held off the Destroyers long enough for the combined might of the surface world to break the Destroyer's grasp."
"And you are here to see me… why?" Adelbern then queried, taking another sip of his mug in anticipation of another burst from his protesting lungs. "If the Destroyers are broken, I don't see why you can't travel the way you always did to the grand halls you speak of."
"While the Destroyers are broken, many still apparently linger mindlessly within the chamber that Atal Ra resides. In addition, the depths of Tyria are no terribly stable since the Destroyer invasion. Even if we wanted to reconnect the gates, the Central Transfer Station will likely completely collapse within the year."
"This is where we need your help, your excellence." Vekk said nervously. "My people do not have the means or ability to mount an offensive to reclaim Atal Ra. We barely have said means to mobilize the drilling team that will clear a physical path to the academy. I humbly ask in the name of friendship between our peoples that you assist us in our efforts to regain the jewel of our heritage."
"You ask me to put Ascalonian lives in your hands, for nothing more than the spirit of friendship?" King Adelbern asked. "I may be old, and I may indulge in opening alliances with new nations, but I did not become king to throw away the lives of my people, people who have families and a heritage of their own."
"I understand that, your eminence." Vekk answered. "But I think there is something down in Atal Ra that will interest you greatly."
"What do you mean?" The king demanded, "Speak!" The shouted command caused him to bend over temporarily, but he reassumed his stance mere seconds later.
The Asura turned his attention towards the window of the palace, where the sun was slowly lowering towards the horizon. Vekk found nature's analogy quite fitting. As the sun set on one day, it would soon rise again brightly and promising a new one.
"You have no heirs, am I correct?"
"What business is that of yours?" The king retorted.
Vekk took a deep breath. "I never thought I'd be having this discussion eight years ago. At that time, my people were a secretive lot. Not proudly, I'll admit that most from the surface that stumbled upon us were killed. Fortunately, the denizens of Atal Ra were more forgiving, and those that came upon our great academy were recruited as drudges or manual labor, never to return to their homes. Perhaps it was cruel, but we shamefully figured our methods were better than death."
Another deep breath prompted his continuance. "I told you that quick story to tell you this one. About a month before the event known as the Searing, one man came upon an old and to our shame overlooked Gate within the southern barrier mountains of Ascalon. To our amazement, he somehow managed to activate said gate, and appear within Atal Ra itself. This fascinated us Asura, especially; we had always figured that humans were of extremely limited intelligence. But this man; in time, he proved to be near… no, more than our equal in intellect. His absorbed the knowledge of Atal Ra with all the speed and retention of the best my race could offer."
"When the Destroyers attacked, it turned out this human was the one who mustered and commanded the academy's defense. In the face of numbers and tenacity that should have easily rolled any resistance, he managed to lead the survivors to victory. Now he heads what remains of the academy itself, it appears… much to the chagrin of many of my peers."
Vekk once more turned his gaze upon King Adelbern, and the Asura could see the brimming realization coming to bear within the frail monarch, and the faintest glimmer of hope rekindled within the old man's spirit. "You should know this man, my excellence. Perhaps you assumed him dead, killed by the same Searing that killed your daughter and led to the death of your firstborn. I am here to tell you that is false. Coran, son of Adelbern, Prince of Ascalon, still lives among the Asura and S'sleth survivors of Atal Ra."