Almost immediately, Theodore felt this disorientating, end-over-end, rollercoaster-type feeling that reminded him of his recent stint with Don Fën's teleportation. It lasted no more than a second as he stepped inside, but it was enough for the boy to find himself suddenly quite lightheaded and a little dizzy in that darkened room. Not that the feeling lingered, thankfully. Instead, Theodore found himself blinking repeatedly in an effort to adjust to the dimmer lighting of the cavern—though, upon closer inspection it looked more like a sanctuary of some kind; an inner sanctum, if you would.
Working his jaw to get rid of the popping sensation in his ears from the pressure change, Theodore got the strangest sense that he had just stepped through a portal into the middle of some kind of temple. But considering the way the woodland sounds had been completely & utterly sealed out, then maybe he was somewhere even deeper than that. Maybe this sanctuary was hidden in someplace else? Wherever that might be.
In any case, no sooner had Theodore stepped through the doorframe, did the puddle that had once been the door, clamber back up the frame and resituate itself back in its hold. It was like watching jello melt in reverse, or one of those B-movie horror films they had to watch during Literacy; weird, but not all that alarming. Well, not at first, anyhow. See now that the door was "closed" again, Theodore's only exit had blinked from existence. Only a singular faint handprint remained, contrasted starkly against the glowing grains.
"Well, I guess that settles it" Theodore hummed. Turning back to the room at large, he found himself in this dark rectangular place with high, vaulting ceilings and looming archways. It kind of reminded him of a church. Spinning on his heel, he found himself thinking that maybe he'd been transported into a solid chunk of rock; that whomever had been here before, had somehow managed to carve out a temple room and then forgotten to furnish it. That's how bare it was.
Well, except for the veins of glowing loralite that threaded themselves through the stone walls and painted the surface of the roof in chaotic patterns that, in turn, cast the room in brilliant cobalt hues. His gaze glided over the swoops and swirls of the twisting loralite, dipping and diving as they danced about and almost seemed to pulsate with the beating of that heart that sounded in his ears. It was almost as if the room was alive. And there was something else; something that was strangely familiar about the whole thing. It was like he'd seen it before, but couldn't put his finger on it; like trying to put a name to a face and failing.
Admittedly, it took him a moment, but then when the recognition struck, he didn't see how it could've been anything else. What, with the way the loralite veins pooled into circles at some spots and other veins swirled into imitations of the starry cosmos & beyond. In some ways, it was just like the solar system thing he'd done with the chest & the xitharis stone—the one he'd inherited from his A'Doro back in 2019—and in other ways it kind of reminded him of the blue webbing that currently decorated his skin. Which, now that he thought about it, didn't hurt as much as before…actually, it didn't hurt at all. It was just blue webbing that wove through his skin and nothing more.
In any other given situation, Theodore probably would've been more focused on the lack of hurt caused by his Lien du Lorne, but his attention was currently preoccupied by the micro cosmos above his head. It was easy enough to spot Lorien on the one wall because of the glowing puddle of loralite at its center. Mogadore, on the other hand, was bare of any loralite. Which symbolised its foreboding darkness and foreshadowed the oncoming darkness that they would spread. But it was the loralite that surrounded Earth that caught his attention; it glowed so much stronger than any other section of the wall. Where Mogadore was dark & Lorien was a tiny star, Earth shone like a tiny sun.
He couldn't help but trace the constellations as he explored; his gaze wide and shining with awe. Calloused fingers trailed over all of the planets within reach and when Theodore's fingers pressed into the closest grooves of the terran planet, the surrounding loralite in the room crackled & vibrated in response. Something below him began to move, dust and dirt shaking loose from the ceiling, as the cobalt motes sparkled in the air; suddenly hyper-charged with the light of loralite.
Theodore knew that he shouldn't have been scared because this was clearly some kind of Loric place. He knew that they wouldn't have created something to hurt one of their own, but he still couldn't help himself as he quickly backed up and pressed himself flush up against the nearest wall. That hyper-charged sensation had turned into something far more cloying and the sanctuary suddenly felt far more claustrophobic than it had before.
The entire room seemed to be shaking, roiling and heaving around him, like it was about to tip off of its axis. Theodore quickly took to the air; lumen encasing him and keeping him afloat. But he was no safer in the air than he had been on the ground, as the room continued to groan and shift all around him. And then, with an ancient weary moan and a whining grind of the stone, a circular section of the floor began to rise up from the centre of the room.
The dust settled, the motes flitting about the air dulled in their light and all was calm again. Theodore let out a breath he didn't know he was holding and went to investigate the newest addition to the room. Upon closer inspection, it looked like an altar of some kind or a pedestal that had erupted upwards from the floor, at the room's uttermost center. The Garde boy thought that it wouldn't look out of place in a cathedral or a temple.
Just as he somehow knew that the map on the surrounding walls—built from a thousand twisting constellations—had been left there to tell their story; the one of his ancestors and the one about their forthcoming descendants, he knew that the guestbook lain neatly upon the stone altar held more of those stories. This, Theodore knew instinctively, though nothing in the sanctuary said so outright. There were no labels, nor plaques describing as such, but he knew that nonetheless.
Shuffling over to the enticing book, Theodore soon found himself staring down at a dark leather cover that was encroached with the language of his forefathers and dotted with even more pretty constellations. Inside, the Loric language twisted about the pages in tantalising patterns; each of them regaling a person's story with such passion that it made him want to sit down upon the dusty cavern floor and read it.
So he did.
The first story appeared to be a Creational one, as it described the birth of Loric's people & her cultures.
Once, long ago, long before time had a name, Lluma the Sky Doro and Lore the Earth Vera lay together in a tight embrace. They lay intertwined around each other like they'd starve without the other. They held each other so close that no light could get through their entangled limbs and because of that, the world lay forever in eternal darkness.
Doro Lluma and Vera Lore had many, many children who lived between them. But they were cramped beyond belief and constantly begging for relief. The children often wondered what the light was like outside of this eternal darkness. And though they loved their parents, they were fed up with living in the darkness, squashed between their parents' loving embrace.
One day, Kupin the God of Summer, decided that they should split their parents apart so that the sky would hang high above their heads, whilst the earth lay low beneath their feet. They would be far enough that neither Vera Lore nor Doro Lluma could reunite and draw the world back into eternal darkness.
So the schwëstern [siblings] agreed it would be done, but they had no clue as to how they would go about it. In the end, only Nakhon the Goddess of Spring, had the strength to push the two apart. She braced her head against Vera Lore's bosom and used her feet to kick away her doro, Lluma. With Doro Lluma and Vera Lore separated for the first time in history, in came a wonderful world of light and all manner of life flourished on the earth and in the sky, because of it.
But after Vera Lore and Doro Lluma were torn apart by their squashed children, Vera Lore who was so overcome with despair and grief, did two things. The first thing she did, was to tear out her own eyes and throw them up towards her lover in the heavens, where, upon landing they scattered themselves unto three pieces. Three pieces that would later birth the three daughters known as Yugid [The Guiding Eyes], as they came to be known.
The second thing she did was to curse her remaining children with the Lien du Lorne [The Bond of the Forsaken], so that they too, may suffer as she did. They would bare cracks of blue upon their skin just as she wore rivers upon the landscape of her body like veiled lace. And they would cry for a love that they had lost; one so far out of reach that they would never know them again.
In exchange, Doro Lluma tore out his own heart and threw it back down to earth where Vera Lore lay. There, she gripped it tight, burying it deep within her bosom, nestled in next to her own where the two would beat in time. These twin hearts would soon join to make one, thus creating a creature known as "the Entity" A godlike creature that granted all of the Garde their Legacies.
And thus, the world and its children, were born.
It is said that when Vera Lore and Doro Lluma embrace once more—when eternal darkness reigns and the light dies—the world will begin anew in the Festival of Conception. This world shall die, so that a new one may rise in its place; just as the eternal rules of the universe dictated.
The second story was about the alluring siren call that had called numerous children to them, in the Cradle of Life; Theodore, himself, included. Penned by an unknown author; something which seemed to be a reoccurring theme within this book.
When the world was young, we lived on naught more than the fish we caught and the food we grew. Fishing and gardens kept our community and families together when there was nothing else. We shared everything with everybody; there were no shops nor flashy cars, we just had what we could make or do for ourselves.
In those days—those days of my childhood—most people had moved away to the big cities to find work and whatever else, but our family stayed and so did many others. We had our gardens, we had out fishing nets, we had ours chimaeras and a whole bay to keep us happy. Three kids to one chimaera; that's how we went to school, clinging onto each other as we rode upon its bare back.
During the school holidays, lots of families & relations came home to fish and camp by the sea. Those were fun times when our little village doubled in size overnight. The fishermen went out on their boats to set the nets, whilst us kids helped around the camp, mending the holes in the nets that the elasmos and the nothos had ripped holes in, or salting the fish that hung over smokey fires. It was hard work at times, but we still managed to have plenty of fun.
Once, when I was no older than you are now, we were camped above the beach as the full moon hung high in the sky and us, kids, headed down to the wet sand to play. That was when we spotted the ring of flowers out in the water; they were small delicate blue flowers that had been arranged in the still waters. They glowed brightly in the light, even though it wasn't that dark at all.
But no sooner had we discovered those flowers, that a wave crashed down upon the flowers and sucked them away from sight. We stood there, looking at each other, wondering whether we had seen anything at all. Someone suggested that they might have of been a reflection of the first evening stars. But they were the only one.
I don't remember falling asleep, but I do remember waking up. There was a song in my ear—it sounded like the ice cream truck—and I followed its tune, I found myself back down on the beach where the glowing blue flowers danced amongst the waves. It was just before dawn and the sky was beginning to lighten when I waded out into the cool waters where the ring of flowers lay, waiting.
I could see them there, a ring of cendrillon flowers that had been painted in the most glorious of blues. And up—high up in the sky—where only the sea birds floated, there stood a doorway, tall and strong. It was silver, like the shiniest of coins or the curve of the blooming moon and there was this song that pulsated like a heartbeat; comforting and secure in my ears. The water lifted me up without warrant and I stepped inside without much issue or forethought. Following the ever-enticing song, I stepped through the door in the sky and soon found myself inside a room so dark that it SHOULD'VE been scary. But I wasn't scared, not yet.
It was there, that I found them. I could see them, these tall people with their snowy white hair. They were pale and garbed in tough armour; dancing on the loralite sand with an ease that they should not have possessed. There, the fear sprung, henceforth. I was so frightened that I froze to the spot. I couldn't move, but I could just faintly hear my sélo crying outside, back on the beach. Those creatures didn't seem to care for my distress as they crept closer to me, stalking close with each step like they were floating and dancing all at the same time. Their white hair, floating like halos around them.
Some of their legs were manky, stalwart in places and covered in golden armour. Whilst others beheld hooves like that of a goat, bow-legged but strong. They looked so powerful and I was so weak in comparison. With their skin so pale, that their flesh was almost transparent and their eyes were hypnotising in their big blueness. Blue eyes that stared at me, seemingly holding an entire cosmos inside.
One stretched out a hand to me, like they were telling us to come with them; hypnotising me before they took me away. I could do nothing except fist my hands at my sides; fingers wound up as tightly as I could. It was all I could do to pray for salvation and then, they just…stopped. The music halted, there was no heartbeat in my ears and the proffered hand dropped back to their side. They stopped and turned away from me, uninterested, and turned towards the halls behind them. I wanted to follow them, frightened as I was, but my feet wouldn't—couldn't—move.
My sélo [cousin] later told me, that when they found my sandals floating by the flowers, they could hear this fine whistling sound. How, it was like a hollow bone when it's blown; flute sounds that floated down through the doorway and rang in the air like the tinkling of singing ice. As for me, all I could hear was that song that had lured me inside; a heartbeat so strong that it sounded like the pounding drums of war. My own heart beat in tune with it, as I remained frozen there, watching those strange people leave.
They all turned as one, armour & weapons not yet seen, glinting in the low-light of the cavern. Those strange people, they seemed to so effortlessly glide away on whisper-quiet feet; up over the sand dunes and down into the loralite covered halls beyond my sight. I don't know how long I stood there, unable to move, nor do I know how I returned home. Only that when I did, I sat upon the cliff overlooking the beach with my tear-stained sélo, who seemed older than when I'd left them, though I could've only been gone an hour or so. We sat and watched, entwined in each other, as the sun rose from its watery grave, up into the morning sky. Neither of us spoke, but there was an understanding there, that a there was a conversation yet to be had.
I tried to tell the fretful people about the armoured people who had stolen me away, but they laughed and told me to return to our work. All except for Ven Cora, who took me aside that night and listened to my story around the campfire. She told me about the Guardians, those strange faery people, who live in between the cracks of our world; in the space between Life and Death, a place that only very special people could reach.
"They dance in the flower rings" She said, "Playing their bone flutes and dancing in golden-plated armour, trying to lure you away. They're spirits that haven't reached the after world and stayed there, in the Cradle of Life, to protect the souls which play there. They won't go near cockroaches—" She told me, pulling such a creature from my hair (my only saving grace). That's when I knew I had been VERY lucky. "—Or black sand, and they will take unsuspecting children back into the Cradle if they ever get the chance. DON'T ever give them the chance"
The blue flowers in the water didn't leave after that and the alluring song that had first drawn me in, only seemed to grow stronger with each passing day. So, my sélos [cousins] and I made little necklaces from black sand beads and kept a cockroach in a small jar that hung from my hip, for the rest of the holidays, in an effort to ward myself from the Guardians.
No one has seen the Guardians as close up as I have; at least, not without returning to talk about it. "Sometimes" Ven told me, "Just before dark falls or on a clear morning when the mist comes down through the valleys, you may still see the flowers lingering in the water and you may hear the Guardians dancing and playing their spirit-filled songs. As if they're calling out to lost children, singing to the, whispering in the mist, but we know better, don't we?"
Silence settled over the campfire once more—my sélo coming to sit by me, afraid that I'd disappear again, if gone from them for too long—and Ven Cora turned back to the fire as she hummed an old song to herself. Despite the warm weather, it sent chills down my spine. "…Hush my rose, sit still and watch as they dance away with the loralite on their wings. You'll join their merry haunt, someday, hear how they howl and sing…"