Post by Solana on May 14, 2014 21:13:57 GMT -5
Chapter Six Wavering Loyalties
True loyalty means being able to openly state what you think is right and what you think is wrong.
Commander Ferid, Suikoden V
A serving man hoisted up the second last of Eziban's trunks, then his face pinched and he let his burden fall onto the ground with an undignified 'thunk'. He ruefully rubbed his aching bicep with a scowl. "The hell do you have in here, rocks?"
Eziban swung out of his saddle and came to inspect his trunk. "Actually, yeah," he replied off-handedly, missing the incredulous look the other man shot him. Eziban started opening the trunk when the man grabbed the final one. "Wait, be careful with-" Eziban began.
The man frowned, then lifted it up and down a few times. "Huh? Lots of clinking in this one."
"What exactly did you bring along with you?" Bachlan asked in annoyance. He stood with his arms crossed, eyes jumping to each of the many, many trunks that had accompanied them on this trip.
Either Eziban missed Bachlan's tone or just chose to ignore it. He fished a key out of his pocket and cracked the last trunk open with a proud grin. "Some of my finest work," he replied, then reached in and pulled out two brown glass bottles filled with a thick burgundy liquid. He pulled out the corks and invitingly held out the bottles for the men to take in the heady, dark fruit and herbal aroma. "Redfern cider," Eziban explained proudly. "Aged and sitting for two years in new oak barrels I made myself from fine saplings. You won't find this for sale anywhere." On impulse, he handed one bottle to the serving man.
The man grinned and took an appreciative sip. Pleasure softened his features. "Why, thank you young sir. I'll be right proud to bring a bottle of our newest Guardian's own brew to my next poker game."
"Go ahead, and feel free to bring me a share of the winnings if it brings you luck," Eziban suggested with an impish look in his eyes.
The man chuckled agreeably and bid farewell to the unusual pair. His remuda had a long, long way to go to the sprawling Monsee Empire across the sea, but it had been no problem to carry this pair as far as the Crystal Citadel.
"You don't mean to turn our home into a still?" Bachlan demanded, evidently not as impressed as the serving man.
Eziban was already locking his drink trunk and going for the rock one. "Why, don't you have one?" he asked, but before Bachlan could give a scathing reply, quickly added, "That's just a hobby of mine. THIS is my real claim to fame."
The trunk lid was opened to reveal a treasure of all kinds of rocks, from pretty to plain. Some were highly polished rounds, others looked like roughly hewn foundation stones, and still more possessed delicate symbols carved into shining faces. Facets and sparkly bits reflected every shade and color of the rainbow. Bachlan opened his mouth, then shut it fast when he noticed the glistening gems sitting in their own compartment. "What are these?" he asked, his voice suddenly a lot less sarcastic and more polite than it had been.
"Gifts for my new colleagues," Eziban replied. He picked up an emerald cut into the rounded cabochon style, without facets. When held up to the light, a pattern of star-like rays could be seen coming from the center.
Bachlan's gaze was locked on the stone, to the point that reflections of it could be seen in his brown eyes. That style of emerald was the rarest and most highly prized from Merna's mines.
Eziban offered it to him, and Bachlan eagerly snatched it up and held it up to the light. That gem was real, or he would swallow it whole. "This is mine?"
"Yep. Emeralds are supposed to enhance memory," Eziban explained. As he watched Bachlan shakily tuck the priceless gem into his pocket, he thought to himself that it was just as well that emeralds enhanced patience as well.
"Well, then..." Bachlan paused, trying to get his train of thought back after acquiring that beautiful stone. The boy, right. "Are you prepared to make your vows to me and this world?" he asked solemnly.
Eziban nodded, licking suddenly dry lips. He stood up a little straighter, getting himself mentally prepared. "I am."
Bachlan took a small knife and a quartz stone pulsating with rich, vibrant green power from his pocket. It outshone even the emerald. "Will you do right by accepting this essence? Will you do what is best for Merna at all times?"
"I shall."
"Will you remember that you serve a higher cause than earthly ambition?"
"I shall."
"Will you fulfill this task for countless lifetimes? Years upon years, centuries upon centuries, millennia upon millennia?"
Eziban could feel his palms getting sweaty, but his voice didn't waver as he answered, "I shall."
"Good. Hold out your hand," Bachlan instructed.
"What?" Eziban asked, tucking them safely behind him.
"Hold out your hand," Bachlan said again, making it more of a command and less of a request.
Eziban wondered whether the gift of the emerald would keep him safe, or whether he was going to be slit for the rest of his stones. Well, his family back home knew where he was if worst came to worst, and he'd be able to unlock the powers stored in his stones if need be. He held out his left hand.
Bachlan reached out and slashed the palm of Eziban's hand with his knife. Eziban flinched, remembering how much worse it had been getting his family tattoo. Bachlan then pressed the quartz stone against the slash. "Blood of Merna, given as essences to protect us. Blood of a Guardian, spilled to protect the world. May their purposes become one."
Cool emerald light trailed in through the injury, instantly healing it. It felt like a balm as it moved through him, bringing the rich scent of turned earth and fresh cut grass to his nose, the rainbow hues of endless stones to his eyes, the individual 'feel' of every type of stone under his feet and to the horizons. He felt a little dizzy and staggered, trying to gain control of this new influx of power.
Bachlan watched him without a word, finally nodding in approval when Eziban shook off the effects of the earth essence entering his body. He would do. "Welcome to our ranks, Guardian of Earth. Welcome to your new home, and a brand new life."
Eziban's eyes rose up to take in the incredible Crystal Citadel floating far above them. A confident smile flickered on his lips as Bachlan activated the transport for them and his trunks.
He was more than ready for this.
Once again, Oriana carefully cast a shielding spell at her door to keep out any unwanted visitors. It was a risk and would have required a lengthy explanation upon discovery, but it still felt less dangerous than letting anyone left here see what she was actually up to in her free hours.
With the shield up, Oriana removed the two versions of Titiu's Discourse on the Fate and Rights of Man and Eziban's transcribed notes from their hiding place inside one of her pillars. After activating the lights in her crystalline walls, lighting a few candles, and pulling up her most comfortable chair to her desk, she picked up where she had left off.
Her first task had been to go through the pages of Eziban's scribbles and transcribe the unfamiliar Atlantean words into an alphabetical list to keep them organized. Next she had cross-referenced each word in the list to where it appeared in the notes to make translating whole sentences easier. The next step had been to open both versions of the hated philosophy book to hunt for the words that she needed.
So far, the work had proved to be more daunting than she had believed. Atlantean grammar and word order differed vastly from their own, requiring her to write down two possible translations for many of the words and hoping to discover which was which when sentences would begin to come clear. Many of the translated words were scattered far apart or proved to be unimportant. There was nothing near an entire sentence to be uncovered at once. It was frustrating, and all the more so because Oriana could not be truly sure that she was making any headway at all.
But it had been the same when trying to learn the nature of new illnesses or attempting new treatments. Towards the beginning, a healing could be occuring so slowly that one couldn't watch its progress. It was only after looking back that one could tell how much improvement had occured. If there was the slightest chance that she could discover something useful, she didn't dare discard it out of frustration.
Oriana suddenly blinked at a sentence from Eziban's notes. Here was the word "Magnia" again, but the word before it this time was not "Genu". Instead it read "Genuer". After making a note, she managed to find the next word on another page of Solana's book and checked it with her own. Not "Birth" this time, but instead "rebirth".
"Great Rebirth".
What was this, and how did it relate to "Great Birth"?
Had this "Great Birth" already happened, or were both events yet to come?
Oriana had no idea, but her intuition told her that she was finally on the right track. More and more words and their translations continued to pop up like beansprouts, but she stubbornly focused on ones near "Great Birth" and "Great Rebirth".
Hours passed by as her world narrowed to those two books and the papers and words, words, words dancing before her eyes. As she plowed through the books, the phrases that she had sought became unveiled one by one. "Chaos"..."'elemental"... "essences"...."connected"...."world's power". All of these were giving her a bad feeling. Whatever Bachlan was planning, it was huge. And somehow, the rest of them were tied into it.
Finally, the clock rang out the supper hour. Her candles had all but burned out. Oriana leaned back to rub her aching head for a moment and reminded herself to brew some of her headache tea with dinner. After resting her eyes for a few minutes, she took a few deep breaths to clear her head and gently massaged her temples to keep away tension. Finally she opened her eyes again to read her translations in one go.
...Great Rebirth... recreate primal elemental chaos...all eight essences come from Merna....pieces of world's power...connected...all eight together more than the sum of its parts...
"By Merna..." Oriana gasped, staring at the words in disbelief. Her mind was hoping that she had made a mistake, but her heart told her differently.
Clap, clap, clap. Oriana spun to see Bachlan casually leaning in her doorway, clapping mockingly. He had been able to pass her shield without her knowing, as focused on her task as she had been. "Very good, Oriana. Very, very good."
Oriana rose from her chair, her eyes a storm of green sparks and her voice trembling with a fury she hadn't known she could possess. "You plan on recreating a primal elemental chaos in this world? Using us?"
"Yes, but that is merely step one," Bachlan admitted, coming into her chambers without so much as an invitation. Oriana stood her ground and matched him stare for stare as he continued, "But the end result will have Merna becoming more fruitful, more life-filled, than ever before. That is our world's own desire, and I have finally discovered how to give it to her."
Oriana couldn't believe it, either his words or the perfect confidence with which they were uttered. "Bachlan, what about those who have trusted to us for their protection all this time? You cannot believe that the others will go along with this, and even-" She stopped in horror at what she had almost let slip.
"Solana and Aryn will support you when they return?" Bachlan finished knowingly.
Oriana turned pale. "You- you knew?"
Bachlan snorted. "Do not take me for a fool, Oriana. I knew that my spells had been tripped in my little workroom. Once was understandable, but twice? There would have to be a reason, you sending it to the one person you knew could translate it. Let the little fish see a bit of information, she won't be able to resist a bite, and then I reel her and Aryn in back to us."
His smile fell away, leaving a grim expression in its wake. "But using Solana's books to try and translate it yourself- very clever. I'm afraid I can't allow you to inform the others before I have all the pieces." He eyed her thoughtfully, like a cat watching a fish in a bowl it had finally decided to go after. "I could certainly use a trial run before our runaways return."
Oriana snapped her fingers, and her crystal staff flew to her hand as she went into a defensive pose. Surprisingly, Bachlan made no move for the double-ended naginata on his back. "I warned you once that I would stand against you if you ever turned against the cause of life. You cannot kill me or turn me against my vows!" Oriana shot at him, her staff starting to glow with her power.
Bachlan's expression remained mild, even amused at her enmity. "True enough, my dear, but I don't need you to see my line of thought. All I want is your life essence back."
Oriana blinked in surprise, then reflexively cast the strongest barrier spell she knew. Layers and layers of pure life magic sprang up in a protective globe around her. She knew that it would take more power than Bachlan commanded to even scratch it, let alone overcome it. Of all the elements of Merna, life was the most suited to defensive skills.
Meanwhile, Bachlan launched a spell in her direction that looked like a clean miss as it shot into her work-crystal. That thought lasted until the spell popped out again and came straight for her. As the gray ribbons melted into her barrier, Oriana readied herself for the next attack as she waited for them to die out or bounce off.
They didn't. Her iridescent power was instead sucked into the gray power, then started streaming towards Bachlan as if it belonged to him! Oriana hurriedly threw up another barrier, and the same thing happened again. With this second barrier gone, the gray ribbons were free to strike their target.
Oriana lurched back against her desk after they hit. She could feel Bachlan's spell melding itself into the very heart of her life essence like a magical parasite. She tried desperately to fight the invasion, but her mental commands no longer had any effect on shaping her power. For the second time in her life, Oriana was completely helpless.
A thin iridescent thread left her body and went for Bachlan. In her chest bloomed pain that felt like the tearing of her soul as her power was stripped from her bit by bit. "How have you done this?! It's impossible to use other essences... unless the power is freely given!" she hissed, clenching her desk for support with white-knuckled fists. Her legs grew shaky and her vision was starting to waver a bit.
"Not quite. I've at last found a way around that annoying little statute after far too long," Bachlan replied triumphantly. Satisfaction gleamed in his eyes as he watched her weaken with the loss of her power. The thread of life power streaming away from its rightful owner soon grew into a cord, then a rope.
He seemed to grow taller and stronger in his pride and the stolen essence flowing through him and mixing with his own. It was a heady feeling as the life essence's natural enhancing effects went through his body along with the magic itself. He must have been crazy to have handed out the other essences in the first place.
Oriana fell to her knees as her dropped staff clattered onto the floor. Her hands lost their grip on the desk and landed on the floor. She was growing weaker and paler by the second, but fruitlessly kept trying to work with what power she had left. Finally, she moaned and collapsed on her floor. "You...won't...succeed...." she murmured, her eyes glowing like gems behind a curtain of tussled pale hair.
Bachlan began to laugh at the sheer absurdity of this proclamation. How many times in the past had he heard this, from how many different fools? How many times had he proven them all wrong? "I shall, at long last. The people have failed. The Guardianship itself has failed. I alone have the vision to succeed."
More and more power from the life essence was filling him as Oriana curled up on her side. So close, he was so close...
"My lord!"
Bachlan quickly waved a hand to cut the draining spell and simultaneously knock Oriana out. He acted not a moment too soon, for Trista and Joshua entered the Life Chambers the second after he finished. Trista yelped at the sight of the woman who had been a mother to them all for millennia passed out on the floor, while Joshua moaned and dashed to her side immediately.
"Have off!" Bachlan roared, causing them both to jump a little. "This woman is a traitor to us!"
"A...traitor? Oriana?" Joshua asked in disbelief. What on Merna was his leader thinking?
"What did she do?" Trista asked in astonishment.
"You know Oriana has betrayed us, betrayed our world in the past by helping our runaways to escape twice," Bachlan began. Trista's eyes narrowed in anger at the memories. Joshua merely looked down at the floor, hiding his thoughts. "We cannot have her jeopardize Merna's life any longer. She will be kept in the isolation chamber I prepared until the return of our truants," Bachlan explained.
"Sir, why would they return now?" Trista asked, puzzled. "They would be foolish to come back and challenge you, especially with us at your side."
"They will return. Help me seal her for now, and we will inform the others of the incident this evening," Bachlan assured her, his eyes warm at her declaration of loyalty.
Trista and Joshua glanced at each other in confusion, but had enough trust in their leader to know what he was doing. Trista summoned a wind gust that blasted through the room before coming together to levitate Oriana's unconscious body. Joshua gave her a hand, and they carefully eased their burden out of the Life Chambers.
Bachlan quickly gathered up the papers that had been scattered by the wind and shoved them into a pocket on the inside of his gold robe before following his servants. The papers would have to be destroyed at a more convenient time later, and he didn't dare take the chance that anyone else would lay eyes on them.
In his haste, he didn't notice that one page had fluttered to the floor underneath Oriana's desk.
Joshua gestured, and the illusionary wall faded to reveal the set of stairs leading into the workroom. The large crystal case that Eziban had seen was tucked near a wall, and now shown to be eerily similar in appearance to a coffin. Odd and somehow vulgar carvings had been etched into its glassy surface, which looked all the more hideous in the ghostly light. Bachlan motioned for Trista to bring Oriana over to this. He murmured a spell under his breath, and the case popped open.
"My lord, what is this?" Joshua asked curiously, staring at it in a mixture of awe and horror. A bit of sweat was glittering on his brow. He knew that Bachlan had been running many experiments down here, mostly dealing with new paths for their magic, but this was the first time that he had seen something so vile-looking as a result.
"It works in a similar method to the crystals you yourselves use when you're in stasis. It will strengthen my spell and keep Oriana out of our way for now," Bachlan explained off-handedly. Trista carefully lowered Oriana's body into it, then Bachlan shut it and concentrated on raising its barriers and inlaid spells.
Joshua was frowning a little, a sick feeling growing in his stomach as his eyes refused to jump away from the wretched thing that Oriana had been inprisoned in. It was far worse than being unable to turn away from a train wreck. Involuntarily, he took a few steps back to separate himself from it. "Sir..." he began hesitantly.
"What?!" Bachlan barked, finishing the sealing spells.
Joshua swallowed hard, but continued, "Is this really necessary? It just seems that something along the lines of this...contraption is a bit excessive. Oriana-"
"Cannot be trusted any longer," Bachlan finished, annoyed. He turned to face his right hand man with a cold glare in his eyes. "Joshua, if she would go so far as to openly defy me and teleport our enemies to safety, what else would she do?"
Joshua hesitated, thinking of Oriana's gentle spirit and manner of healing. She was the closest thing to a mother they had, but surely the life of their world was more important than a handful of lives.
"Oh, please, don't tell me YOU'RE turning traitor on us now," Trista began, rolling her eyes. "Oriana let herself listen to that little water witch for too long, and is too weak to do what must be done. Are you too weak as well?"
Without warning, images of a horribly familiar tiny jail cell swamped Joshua's mind. For a second, he could once more smell the rank air and feel the syrupy moist wood of a rough bench supporting him. His throat was scratchy from meager portions of stale bread and endless weeping. Echoes of thumping footsteps were approaching the door yet again, mocking his galloping heart, and suddenly stopped. A rattling sound was heard in the lock, and then the strained creak of rusty hinges as the door began to scrape its way along the filthy floor...
Joshua shook it off with a small burst of power. "NO! I...I will do what must be done."
"Good lad," Bachlan said approvingly, patting him on the head. "You and Trista are relieved from duty this evening as well. You've earned some time off." Trista squealed happily, bowed, and took off. Joshua bowed silently and followed, a frown on his face as he glanced back once at the imprisoned Life Guardian before turning back.
Bachlan took one more moment to relish the sight of one who had tried to oppose him being helpless. She had learned her lesson, as they all had.
Soon enough, the traitors would be joining her.
Dip the brush, then onto the parchment. Curled, sweeping lines on the first letter on the first line of the poem, with more delicate and smaller lines for the others. "Why seekest thou treasure under thy feet?"
Raoul smiled to himself, thinking Eziban might not appreciate this one. He gently blew on the ink to help dry it, then dipped his brush again for the next line. "Seekest thou instead treasure of the spirit." The poem went on to describe the emerald leaves of an ethereal forest, the shining golden splendor of the sun that gave light and heat to all equally, and the glowing radiance of love in the eyes of others.
Yes, some of the elves could be quite biased towards their forest home, but the Thunder Guardian could certainly see why. The tranquil den of the elves deep in the forests of Deynain, resplendent in its harmony with the environment, had served him as an albatross in his quest to know more about his heritage and where he belonged now.
Growing up in a human orphanage until being recruited as a Guardian had left Raoul with far more questions than answers. He had no idea which side of his family was elven compared to human, or where his talent for thunder magic had arisen from. His one clue was the oddly-designed bronze bracelet that had remained an enigma to human and elven scholars alike throughout the millennia.
Shaking off what couldn't be solved, Raoul's gaze traveled back to his work. With the poem complete, he needed to concentrate on the border. His large but graceful hands gently traced a green vine twining its way around the elegant lettering, with a simple flick here and there for leaves. He then placed tiny blushes of crimson for the blossoms on the vine, bits of blue for the small songbirds, and hints of gold shading on the vine itself. Lastly, he added a bit of drying powder to help set the inks as they were left to dry overnight.
Raoul then brought his brushes to the small sink in his chambers to begin cleaning both them and his ink-splotched hands. He would have to plan an alternative design for the lovely Malika, in thanks for sending him the exquisite poem.
A rush of happiness flooded his heart at the thought of the spirited elfmaiden, and what to include that would draw out her radiant smile. Malika was an exceptional cellist and healer, and loved the arts of Deynain as much as he did. The two had spent many hours together dreaming of bringing those arts to the rest of Merna, and talking and laughing and improving their own skills under the eye of the elder elves. She had also spent hours talking to the other elves to try to solve the mystery of his bronze bracelet. Malika was the sunshine to the tree of his heart, and their love tokens consisted of elven lore and sheet music.
Raoul let out a little sigh as he scooped up a towel and began to dry his hands. It wasn't easy loving from afar like this. Bachlan in particular wasn't interested in handing over extra Deynain assignments. ("You're a Guardian first and a man second, Raoul. Our duties to our world come before any other ties!") But it still felt like she was with him during those tough times. When Raoul reached inside himself for the strength to overcome a particularily nasty storm system, and did occasionally succeed at nullifying the water as well as the thunder aspects of it, it was because he could sense Malika's soft voice insisting that he could do whatever he had to.
His door suddenly slammed open, and Eziban entered and swiftly shut it behind him. He opened his mouth to speak, thought better of it, then threw a magical shield at the door first. "Eziban, why was that needed? What's happened?" Raoul demanded as he threw down the towel. He was nervous at the expression of pure horror on his friend's face.
"That dirty, lying, treacherous, sorry excuse for a leader has finally gone off the deep end and done something to Oriana!" Eziban growled, as angry at himself as Bachlan. He should've known something was up when Bachlan had actually been cheerful earlier, and given them time off to enjoy their trip. He didn't think the word "enjoy" was even in Bachlan's vocabulary. And of course he'd had to drag Raoul to that brewer's convention for an extra afternoon while Oriana had been a hen in a foxes' den.
"No, he couldn't have..." Raoul began helplessly. It's not that he couldn't believe it, but he didn't want to, because that would mean...
Eziban scowled and thrust the one page of Oriana's writing that had escaped Bachlan's wrath into Raoul's face to see for himself. "He sure as hell did, and here's why." Eziban's expression turned serious. "It's decision time, bro. That fence you've been sitting on since the girls' little visit was just annihilated, and you have to decide which side you fell on. You have until I get back from Spira with our reinforcements."
Raoul hesitated, glancing at the page filled with Oriana's neat handwriting. Then his eyes traveled to a small ink painting hanging on his wall. It portrayed a single dolphin swimming in a sea of stars, with a flashing phoenix flying next to it. He had made it himself after Solana and Aryn left, to keep them in his heart. He remembered that day they had returned, proclaiming that everything they had done had been wrong. He remembered how he had spoken up, and, despite his nervousness, how right it had felt.
Malika's voice sounded like a bell in his mind. It's not everyone that's brave enough to do what's right instead of what's expected.
That clinched it. Raoul turned back to his friend. "Joshua and Trista aided Bachlan, right?" Eziban nodded uneasily, not quite sure where this was going. "When you come back, I'll be ready to help. Send them my love," Raoul finished, holding out his hand.
"I'll bring them back, and you can tell them yourself," Eziban replied as they clasped forearms in farewell. "Oh, before I forget..." Eziban started digging in one of his pockets. He finally found what he was looking for and slapped the opal he'd been working on into Raoul's hand. "To help on any water disasters in the meantime," he explained.
"Thanks," Raoul replied, pocketing the lovely gem.
Eziban took down his shields and left the Thunder Chambers for his own. He'd pick up the travel pack that he'd put together before visiting Raoul and take off in his personal ship for Kilika before Bachlan was the wiser. It would be four against three, and Eziban remembered that their informant had mentioned that Solana and Aryn both had much stronger magical auras than himself or Oriana. Their chances of stopping the maniac looked pretty good.
Meanwhile, Raoul stared down at the poem he'd been working on. The fears hidden in his heart these past years had come to fruition at last. He would be forced to battle the man who had practically adopted him, as well as two of his comrades.
But then, a part of the Thunder Guardian had always known it was inevitable, probably since that night forty years ago when Solana and Aryn had left Merna behind.
He took out another piece of parchment to begin preparing it for Malika's gift. There was nothing he could do until Eziban returned, and he needed to calm his heart and mind for the conflict ahead.
True loyalty means being able to openly state what you think is right and what you think is wrong.
Commander Ferid, Suikoden V
A serving man hoisted up the second last of Eziban's trunks, then his face pinched and he let his burden fall onto the ground with an undignified 'thunk'. He ruefully rubbed his aching bicep with a scowl. "The hell do you have in here, rocks?"
Eziban swung out of his saddle and came to inspect his trunk. "Actually, yeah," he replied off-handedly, missing the incredulous look the other man shot him. Eziban started opening the trunk when the man grabbed the final one. "Wait, be careful with-" Eziban began.
The man frowned, then lifted it up and down a few times. "Huh? Lots of clinking in this one."
"What exactly did you bring along with you?" Bachlan asked in annoyance. He stood with his arms crossed, eyes jumping to each of the many, many trunks that had accompanied them on this trip.
Either Eziban missed Bachlan's tone or just chose to ignore it. He fished a key out of his pocket and cracked the last trunk open with a proud grin. "Some of my finest work," he replied, then reached in and pulled out two brown glass bottles filled with a thick burgundy liquid. He pulled out the corks and invitingly held out the bottles for the men to take in the heady, dark fruit and herbal aroma. "Redfern cider," Eziban explained proudly. "Aged and sitting for two years in new oak barrels I made myself from fine saplings. You won't find this for sale anywhere." On impulse, he handed one bottle to the serving man.
The man grinned and took an appreciative sip. Pleasure softened his features. "Why, thank you young sir. I'll be right proud to bring a bottle of our newest Guardian's own brew to my next poker game."
"Go ahead, and feel free to bring me a share of the winnings if it brings you luck," Eziban suggested with an impish look in his eyes.
The man chuckled agreeably and bid farewell to the unusual pair. His remuda had a long, long way to go to the sprawling Monsee Empire across the sea, but it had been no problem to carry this pair as far as the Crystal Citadel.
"You don't mean to turn our home into a still?" Bachlan demanded, evidently not as impressed as the serving man.
Eziban was already locking his drink trunk and going for the rock one. "Why, don't you have one?" he asked, but before Bachlan could give a scathing reply, quickly added, "That's just a hobby of mine. THIS is my real claim to fame."
The trunk lid was opened to reveal a treasure of all kinds of rocks, from pretty to plain. Some were highly polished rounds, others looked like roughly hewn foundation stones, and still more possessed delicate symbols carved into shining faces. Facets and sparkly bits reflected every shade and color of the rainbow. Bachlan opened his mouth, then shut it fast when he noticed the glistening gems sitting in their own compartment. "What are these?" he asked, his voice suddenly a lot less sarcastic and more polite than it had been.
"Gifts for my new colleagues," Eziban replied. He picked up an emerald cut into the rounded cabochon style, without facets. When held up to the light, a pattern of star-like rays could be seen coming from the center.
Bachlan's gaze was locked on the stone, to the point that reflections of it could be seen in his brown eyes. That style of emerald was the rarest and most highly prized from Merna's mines.
Eziban offered it to him, and Bachlan eagerly snatched it up and held it up to the light. That gem was real, or he would swallow it whole. "This is mine?"
"Yep. Emeralds are supposed to enhance memory," Eziban explained. As he watched Bachlan shakily tuck the priceless gem into his pocket, he thought to himself that it was just as well that emeralds enhanced patience as well.
"Well, then..." Bachlan paused, trying to get his train of thought back after acquiring that beautiful stone. The boy, right. "Are you prepared to make your vows to me and this world?" he asked solemnly.
Eziban nodded, licking suddenly dry lips. He stood up a little straighter, getting himself mentally prepared. "I am."
Bachlan took a small knife and a quartz stone pulsating with rich, vibrant green power from his pocket. It outshone even the emerald. "Will you do right by accepting this essence? Will you do what is best for Merna at all times?"
"I shall."
"Will you remember that you serve a higher cause than earthly ambition?"
"I shall."
"Will you fulfill this task for countless lifetimes? Years upon years, centuries upon centuries, millennia upon millennia?"
Eziban could feel his palms getting sweaty, but his voice didn't waver as he answered, "I shall."
"Good. Hold out your hand," Bachlan instructed.
"What?" Eziban asked, tucking them safely behind him.
"Hold out your hand," Bachlan said again, making it more of a command and less of a request.
Eziban wondered whether the gift of the emerald would keep him safe, or whether he was going to be slit for the rest of his stones. Well, his family back home knew where he was if worst came to worst, and he'd be able to unlock the powers stored in his stones if need be. He held out his left hand.
Bachlan reached out and slashed the palm of Eziban's hand with his knife. Eziban flinched, remembering how much worse it had been getting his family tattoo. Bachlan then pressed the quartz stone against the slash. "Blood of Merna, given as essences to protect us. Blood of a Guardian, spilled to protect the world. May their purposes become one."
Cool emerald light trailed in through the injury, instantly healing it. It felt like a balm as it moved through him, bringing the rich scent of turned earth and fresh cut grass to his nose, the rainbow hues of endless stones to his eyes, the individual 'feel' of every type of stone under his feet and to the horizons. He felt a little dizzy and staggered, trying to gain control of this new influx of power.
Bachlan watched him without a word, finally nodding in approval when Eziban shook off the effects of the earth essence entering his body. He would do. "Welcome to our ranks, Guardian of Earth. Welcome to your new home, and a brand new life."
Eziban's eyes rose up to take in the incredible Crystal Citadel floating far above them. A confident smile flickered on his lips as Bachlan activated the transport for them and his trunks.
He was more than ready for this.
Once again, Oriana carefully cast a shielding spell at her door to keep out any unwanted visitors. It was a risk and would have required a lengthy explanation upon discovery, but it still felt less dangerous than letting anyone left here see what she was actually up to in her free hours.
With the shield up, Oriana removed the two versions of Titiu's Discourse on the Fate and Rights of Man and Eziban's transcribed notes from their hiding place inside one of her pillars. After activating the lights in her crystalline walls, lighting a few candles, and pulling up her most comfortable chair to her desk, she picked up where she had left off.
Her first task had been to go through the pages of Eziban's scribbles and transcribe the unfamiliar Atlantean words into an alphabetical list to keep them organized. Next she had cross-referenced each word in the list to where it appeared in the notes to make translating whole sentences easier. The next step had been to open both versions of the hated philosophy book to hunt for the words that she needed.
So far, the work had proved to be more daunting than she had believed. Atlantean grammar and word order differed vastly from their own, requiring her to write down two possible translations for many of the words and hoping to discover which was which when sentences would begin to come clear. Many of the translated words were scattered far apart or proved to be unimportant. There was nothing near an entire sentence to be uncovered at once. It was frustrating, and all the more so because Oriana could not be truly sure that she was making any headway at all.
But it had been the same when trying to learn the nature of new illnesses or attempting new treatments. Towards the beginning, a healing could be occuring so slowly that one couldn't watch its progress. It was only after looking back that one could tell how much improvement had occured. If there was the slightest chance that she could discover something useful, she didn't dare discard it out of frustration.
Oriana suddenly blinked at a sentence from Eziban's notes. Here was the word "Magnia" again, but the word before it this time was not "Genu". Instead it read "Genuer". After making a note, she managed to find the next word on another page of Solana's book and checked it with her own. Not "Birth" this time, but instead "rebirth".
"Great Rebirth".
What was this, and how did it relate to "Great Birth"?
Had this "Great Birth" already happened, or were both events yet to come?
Oriana had no idea, but her intuition told her that she was finally on the right track. More and more words and their translations continued to pop up like beansprouts, but she stubbornly focused on ones near "Great Birth" and "Great Rebirth".
Hours passed by as her world narrowed to those two books and the papers and words, words, words dancing before her eyes. As she plowed through the books, the phrases that she had sought became unveiled one by one. "Chaos"..."'elemental"... "essences"...."connected"...."world's power". All of these were giving her a bad feeling. Whatever Bachlan was planning, it was huge. And somehow, the rest of them were tied into it.
Finally, the clock rang out the supper hour. Her candles had all but burned out. Oriana leaned back to rub her aching head for a moment and reminded herself to brew some of her headache tea with dinner. After resting her eyes for a few minutes, she took a few deep breaths to clear her head and gently massaged her temples to keep away tension. Finally she opened her eyes again to read her translations in one go.
...Great Rebirth... recreate primal elemental chaos...all eight essences come from Merna....pieces of world's power...connected...all eight together more than the sum of its parts...
"By Merna..." Oriana gasped, staring at the words in disbelief. Her mind was hoping that she had made a mistake, but her heart told her differently.
Clap, clap, clap. Oriana spun to see Bachlan casually leaning in her doorway, clapping mockingly. He had been able to pass her shield without her knowing, as focused on her task as she had been. "Very good, Oriana. Very, very good."
Oriana rose from her chair, her eyes a storm of green sparks and her voice trembling with a fury she hadn't known she could possess. "You plan on recreating a primal elemental chaos in this world? Using us?"
"Yes, but that is merely step one," Bachlan admitted, coming into her chambers without so much as an invitation. Oriana stood her ground and matched him stare for stare as he continued, "But the end result will have Merna becoming more fruitful, more life-filled, than ever before. That is our world's own desire, and I have finally discovered how to give it to her."
Oriana couldn't believe it, either his words or the perfect confidence with which they were uttered. "Bachlan, what about those who have trusted to us for their protection all this time? You cannot believe that the others will go along with this, and even-" She stopped in horror at what she had almost let slip.
"Solana and Aryn will support you when they return?" Bachlan finished knowingly.
Oriana turned pale. "You- you knew?"
Bachlan snorted. "Do not take me for a fool, Oriana. I knew that my spells had been tripped in my little workroom. Once was understandable, but twice? There would have to be a reason, you sending it to the one person you knew could translate it. Let the little fish see a bit of information, she won't be able to resist a bite, and then I reel her and Aryn in back to us."
His smile fell away, leaving a grim expression in its wake. "But using Solana's books to try and translate it yourself- very clever. I'm afraid I can't allow you to inform the others before I have all the pieces." He eyed her thoughtfully, like a cat watching a fish in a bowl it had finally decided to go after. "I could certainly use a trial run before our runaways return."
Oriana snapped her fingers, and her crystal staff flew to her hand as she went into a defensive pose. Surprisingly, Bachlan made no move for the double-ended naginata on his back. "I warned you once that I would stand against you if you ever turned against the cause of life. You cannot kill me or turn me against my vows!" Oriana shot at him, her staff starting to glow with her power.
Bachlan's expression remained mild, even amused at her enmity. "True enough, my dear, but I don't need you to see my line of thought. All I want is your life essence back."
Oriana blinked in surprise, then reflexively cast the strongest barrier spell she knew. Layers and layers of pure life magic sprang up in a protective globe around her. She knew that it would take more power than Bachlan commanded to even scratch it, let alone overcome it. Of all the elements of Merna, life was the most suited to defensive skills.
Meanwhile, Bachlan launched a spell in her direction that looked like a clean miss as it shot into her work-crystal. That thought lasted until the spell popped out again and came straight for her. As the gray ribbons melted into her barrier, Oriana readied herself for the next attack as she waited for them to die out or bounce off.
They didn't. Her iridescent power was instead sucked into the gray power, then started streaming towards Bachlan as if it belonged to him! Oriana hurriedly threw up another barrier, and the same thing happened again. With this second barrier gone, the gray ribbons were free to strike their target.
Oriana lurched back against her desk after they hit. She could feel Bachlan's spell melding itself into the very heart of her life essence like a magical parasite. She tried desperately to fight the invasion, but her mental commands no longer had any effect on shaping her power. For the second time in her life, Oriana was completely helpless.
A thin iridescent thread left her body and went for Bachlan. In her chest bloomed pain that felt like the tearing of her soul as her power was stripped from her bit by bit. "How have you done this?! It's impossible to use other essences... unless the power is freely given!" she hissed, clenching her desk for support with white-knuckled fists. Her legs grew shaky and her vision was starting to waver a bit.
"Not quite. I've at last found a way around that annoying little statute after far too long," Bachlan replied triumphantly. Satisfaction gleamed in his eyes as he watched her weaken with the loss of her power. The thread of life power streaming away from its rightful owner soon grew into a cord, then a rope.
He seemed to grow taller and stronger in his pride and the stolen essence flowing through him and mixing with his own. It was a heady feeling as the life essence's natural enhancing effects went through his body along with the magic itself. He must have been crazy to have handed out the other essences in the first place.
Oriana fell to her knees as her dropped staff clattered onto the floor. Her hands lost their grip on the desk and landed on the floor. She was growing weaker and paler by the second, but fruitlessly kept trying to work with what power she had left. Finally, she moaned and collapsed on her floor. "You...won't...succeed...." she murmured, her eyes glowing like gems behind a curtain of tussled pale hair.
Bachlan began to laugh at the sheer absurdity of this proclamation. How many times in the past had he heard this, from how many different fools? How many times had he proven them all wrong? "I shall, at long last. The people have failed. The Guardianship itself has failed. I alone have the vision to succeed."
More and more power from the life essence was filling him as Oriana curled up on her side. So close, he was so close...
"My lord!"
Bachlan quickly waved a hand to cut the draining spell and simultaneously knock Oriana out. He acted not a moment too soon, for Trista and Joshua entered the Life Chambers the second after he finished. Trista yelped at the sight of the woman who had been a mother to them all for millennia passed out on the floor, while Joshua moaned and dashed to her side immediately.
"Have off!" Bachlan roared, causing them both to jump a little. "This woman is a traitor to us!"
"A...traitor? Oriana?" Joshua asked in disbelief. What on Merna was his leader thinking?
"What did she do?" Trista asked in astonishment.
"You know Oriana has betrayed us, betrayed our world in the past by helping our runaways to escape twice," Bachlan began. Trista's eyes narrowed in anger at the memories. Joshua merely looked down at the floor, hiding his thoughts. "We cannot have her jeopardize Merna's life any longer. She will be kept in the isolation chamber I prepared until the return of our truants," Bachlan explained.
"Sir, why would they return now?" Trista asked, puzzled. "They would be foolish to come back and challenge you, especially with us at your side."
"They will return. Help me seal her for now, and we will inform the others of the incident this evening," Bachlan assured her, his eyes warm at her declaration of loyalty.
Trista and Joshua glanced at each other in confusion, but had enough trust in their leader to know what he was doing. Trista summoned a wind gust that blasted through the room before coming together to levitate Oriana's unconscious body. Joshua gave her a hand, and they carefully eased their burden out of the Life Chambers.
Bachlan quickly gathered up the papers that had been scattered by the wind and shoved them into a pocket on the inside of his gold robe before following his servants. The papers would have to be destroyed at a more convenient time later, and he didn't dare take the chance that anyone else would lay eyes on them.
In his haste, he didn't notice that one page had fluttered to the floor underneath Oriana's desk.
Joshua gestured, and the illusionary wall faded to reveal the set of stairs leading into the workroom. The large crystal case that Eziban had seen was tucked near a wall, and now shown to be eerily similar in appearance to a coffin. Odd and somehow vulgar carvings had been etched into its glassy surface, which looked all the more hideous in the ghostly light. Bachlan motioned for Trista to bring Oriana over to this. He murmured a spell under his breath, and the case popped open.
"My lord, what is this?" Joshua asked curiously, staring at it in a mixture of awe and horror. A bit of sweat was glittering on his brow. He knew that Bachlan had been running many experiments down here, mostly dealing with new paths for their magic, but this was the first time that he had seen something so vile-looking as a result.
"It works in a similar method to the crystals you yourselves use when you're in stasis. It will strengthen my spell and keep Oriana out of our way for now," Bachlan explained off-handedly. Trista carefully lowered Oriana's body into it, then Bachlan shut it and concentrated on raising its barriers and inlaid spells.
Joshua was frowning a little, a sick feeling growing in his stomach as his eyes refused to jump away from the wretched thing that Oriana had been inprisoned in. It was far worse than being unable to turn away from a train wreck. Involuntarily, he took a few steps back to separate himself from it. "Sir..." he began hesitantly.
"What?!" Bachlan barked, finishing the sealing spells.
Joshua swallowed hard, but continued, "Is this really necessary? It just seems that something along the lines of this...contraption is a bit excessive. Oriana-"
"Cannot be trusted any longer," Bachlan finished, annoyed. He turned to face his right hand man with a cold glare in his eyes. "Joshua, if she would go so far as to openly defy me and teleport our enemies to safety, what else would she do?"
Joshua hesitated, thinking of Oriana's gentle spirit and manner of healing. She was the closest thing to a mother they had, but surely the life of their world was more important than a handful of lives.
"Oh, please, don't tell me YOU'RE turning traitor on us now," Trista began, rolling her eyes. "Oriana let herself listen to that little water witch for too long, and is too weak to do what must be done. Are you too weak as well?"
Without warning, images of a horribly familiar tiny jail cell swamped Joshua's mind. For a second, he could once more smell the rank air and feel the syrupy moist wood of a rough bench supporting him. His throat was scratchy from meager portions of stale bread and endless weeping. Echoes of thumping footsteps were approaching the door yet again, mocking his galloping heart, and suddenly stopped. A rattling sound was heard in the lock, and then the strained creak of rusty hinges as the door began to scrape its way along the filthy floor...
Joshua shook it off with a small burst of power. "NO! I...I will do what must be done."
"Good lad," Bachlan said approvingly, patting him on the head. "You and Trista are relieved from duty this evening as well. You've earned some time off." Trista squealed happily, bowed, and took off. Joshua bowed silently and followed, a frown on his face as he glanced back once at the imprisoned Life Guardian before turning back.
Bachlan took one more moment to relish the sight of one who had tried to oppose him being helpless. She had learned her lesson, as they all had.
Soon enough, the traitors would be joining her.
Dip the brush, then onto the parchment. Curled, sweeping lines on the first letter on the first line of the poem, with more delicate and smaller lines for the others. "Why seekest thou treasure under thy feet?"
Raoul smiled to himself, thinking Eziban might not appreciate this one. He gently blew on the ink to help dry it, then dipped his brush again for the next line. "Seekest thou instead treasure of the spirit." The poem went on to describe the emerald leaves of an ethereal forest, the shining golden splendor of the sun that gave light and heat to all equally, and the glowing radiance of love in the eyes of others.
Yes, some of the elves could be quite biased towards their forest home, but the Thunder Guardian could certainly see why. The tranquil den of the elves deep in the forests of Deynain, resplendent in its harmony with the environment, had served him as an albatross in his quest to know more about his heritage and where he belonged now.
Growing up in a human orphanage until being recruited as a Guardian had left Raoul with far more questions than answers. He had no idea which side of his family was elven compared to human, or where his talent for thunder magic had arisen from. His one clue was the oddly-designed bronze bracelet that had remained an enigma to human and elven scholars alike throughout the millennia.
Shaking off what couldn't be solved, Raoul's gaze traveled back to his work. With the poem complete, he needed to concentrate on the border. His large but graceful hands gently traced a green vine twining its way around the elegant lettering, with a simple flick here and there for leaves. He then placed tiny blushes of crimson for the blossoms on the vine, bits of blue for the small songbirds, and hints of gold shading on the vine itself. Lastly, he added a bit of drying powder to help set the inks as they were left to dry overnight.
Raoul then brought his brushes to the small sink in his chambers to begin cleaning both them and his ink-splotched hands. He would have to plan an alternative design for the lovely Malika, in thanks for sending him the exquisite poem.
A rush of happiness flooded his heart at the thought of the spirited elfmaiden, and what to include that would draw out her radiant smile. Malika was an exceptional cellist and healer, and loved the arts of Deynain as much as he did. The two had spent many hours together dreaming of bringing those arts to the rest of Merna, and talking and laughing and improving their own skills under the eye of the elder elves. She had also spent hours talking to the other elves to try to solve the mystery of his bronze bracelet. Malika was the sunshine to the tree of his heart, and their love tokens consisted of elven lore and sheet music.
Raoul let out a little sigh as he scooped up a towel and began to dry his hands. It wasn't easy loving from afar like this. Bachlan in particular wasn't interested in handing over extra Deynain assignments. ("You're a Guardian first and a man second, Raoul. Our duties to our world come before any other ties!") But it still felt like she was with him during those tough times. When Raoul reached inside himself for the strength to overcome a particularily nasty storm system, and did occasionally succeed at nullifying the water as well as the thunder aspects of it, it was because he could sense Malika's soft voice insisting that he could do whatever he had to.
His door suddenly slammed open, and Eziban entered and swiftly shut it behind him. He opened his mouth to speak, thought better of it, then threw a magical shield at the door first. "Eziban, why was that needed? What's happened?" Raoul demanded as he threw down the towel. He was nervous at the expression of pure horror on his friend's face.
"That dirty, lying, treacherous, sorry excuse for a leader has finally gone off the deep end and done something to Oriana!" Eziban growled, as angry at himself as Bachlan. He should've known something was up when Bachlan had actually been cheerful earlier, and given them time off to enjoy their trip. He didn't think the word "enjoy" was even in Bachlan's vocabulary. And of course he'd had to drag Raoul to that brewer's convention for an extra afternoon while Oriana had been a hen in a foxes' den.
"No, he couldn't have..." Raoul began helplessly. It's not that he couldn't believe it, but he didn't want to, because that would mean...
Eziban scowled and thrust the one page of Oriana's writing that had escaped Bachlan's wrath into Raoul's face to see for himself. "He sure as hell did, and here's why." Eziban's expression turned serious. "It's decision time, bro. That fence you've been sitting on since the girls' little visit was just annihilated, and you have to decide which side you fell on. You have until I get back from Spira with our reinforcements."
Raoul hesitated, glancing at the page filled with Oriana's neat handwriting. Then his eyes traveled to a small ink painting hanging on his wall. It portrayed a single dolphin swimming in a sea of stars, with a flashing phoenix flying next to it. He had made it himself after Solana and Aryn left, to keep them in his heart. He remembered that day they had returned, proclaiming that everything they had done had been wrong. He remembered how he had spoken up, and, despite his nervousness, how right it had felt.
Malika's voice sounded like a bell in his mind. It's not everyone that's brave enough to do what's right instead of what's expected.
That clinched it. Raoul turned back to his friend. "Joshua and Trista aided Bachlan, right?" Eziban nodded uneasily, not quite sure where this was going. "When you come back, I'll be ready to help. Send them my love," Raoul finished, holding out his hand.
"I'll bring them back, and you can tell them yourself," Eziban replied as they clasped forearms in farewell. "Oh, before I forget..." Eziban started digging in one of his pockets. He finally found what he was looking for and slapped the opal he'd been working on into Raoul's hand. "To help on any water disasters in the meantime," he explained.
"Thanks," Raoul replied, pocketing the lovely gem.
Eziban took down his shields and left the Thunder Chambers for his own. He'd pick up the travel pack that he'd put together before visiting Raoul and take off in his personal ship for Kilika before Bachlan was the wiser. It would be four against three, and Eziban remembered that their informant had mentioned that Solana and Aryn both had much stronger magical auras than himself or Oriana. Their chances of stopping the maniac looked pretty good.
Meanwhile, Raoul stared down at the poem he'd been working on. The fears hidden in his heart these past years had come to fruition at last. He would be forced to battle the man who had practically adopted him, as well as two of his comrades.
But then, a part of the Thunder Guardian had always known it was inevitable, probably since that night forty years ago when Solana and Aryn had left Merna behind.
He took out another piece of parchment to begin preparing it for Malika's gift. There was nothing he could do until Eziban returned, and he needed to calm his heart and mind for the conflict ahead.