December 31, 2111
Catharine Darcrose
Cathy explored the children's section of Saulomon's Temple and came across an entire row of "Tale of the Lost Village." She eyed each one. Every number matched the call number Erryn gave up until the last two digits. LVP 909.P57991; 92, 93, 94, 95. It stopped. She reached the end of the brown shelf. She gazed over to the next shelf: LVP 909.P57997, and a completely different book at that.
What? Where is it?
Her eyes returned to the original shelf and spotted something - something in the back. She shifted over the last book and reached back. Her fingers tipped against another book half stuck behind a hole in the wall that met a column between that shelf and the adjacent one. She grabbed it and yanked it loose. LVP 909.P57996! She had it!
She took it back to her favorite seat in the restricted section. Kaizerious was waiting there already. She opened the first page:
A long time ago, in a time of wonders and mystery, a king ruled with riches as deep as dreams. This king, a king named Kaylob, ruled over many villages and over land further than eyes could see. He had everything a king could want - riches, power, fame. Other kings envied him for his power and prayed for a day that they could take what was his. But King Kaylob did not fear them, for he was the most powerful king in all of the north. No, the king had but one fear - a prophecy. One day, at the height of the king's power and influence, on the day of his thirtieth birthday, a foremoth--
Cathy stopped reading and gazed to Kaizerious. "What is that?"
"Think of it as a fairy or pixie that can predict the future."
"Hmm." She continued to read.
--a foremoth came to the king in his dreams and foretold upon him a prophecy.
She whispered into the king's ear, "On the day of your next birthday, a boy born to a family of farmers, a firstborn child shaped by the land of the king, will bring your kingdom to its knees."
The king awoke, screaming that night and, out of fear, devised a plan. On the birth of the next morning, King Kaylob marched his army village to village and slaughtered every firstborn child of every family of farmers within his land. He believed the words of the foremoth to be a warning that the child was in his kingdom. Little did the king know, by acting to prevent his kingdom's fall from power, the king would only cause it.
Word spread as the king made his way to the outer villages and resistance formed. In battle and arms, the resistance fell that night. Time was bought, and the firstborn son of a pair of farmers fled at the dusk of the battle's end. His parents, among the resistance, died. The boy fled no longer a farmer's son; he fled an orphan.
By the next full moon, King Kaylob had killed every firstborn child of every family of farmers in all of his villages. Or so he thought. He did not know of the orphan. The child, now filled with fear of the king and pain over the loss of his parents, ran into hiding, believing the king would one day hunt for him.
Deep into an unending forest the boy traveled, deeper than anybody before. As years went by, the boy became a man who was forged by instinct and nature. The man, his name was Arathor. On the day of an eclipse, during a hunt that led Arathor further into the forest than ever before, he came upon a tree - an ancient tree unlike any in the forest. Its roots ran deep, its trunk as thick as a lake, and its branches extending over a nearby mountain. Arathor found an opening and slipped down between the roots. Tunnels, forged by roots, took him under the forest and to a room filled with treasure and magic.
"Magic? You expect me to believe in magic?" she asked. Her unbelieving eyes pleaded at Kaizerious. As the story continued, she grew more skeptical.
"This story is children's folktale coming from a time before science," he replied.
She continued:
--In this room, there was but one thing that caught the eye of Arathor, for he did not seek treasure or riches, for he lived off nature. The one thing that captured his interest was a tomb in the back. Inside was a wizard held in a space without time and full of white light. Arathor placed his hand on the glass and shot back as steam and water came exploding out of the sides! He watched as the wizard, wet and weak, stumbled from the case and fell to his knees. Arathor reached out his hand to aid the wizard to his feet and was surprised to see the wizard rise as an ordinary omelic, a spitting image of himself. When the wizard stood at eye level, he asked Arathor how he had found him. Arathor, trembling, started from the beginning and told the wizard everything from the king to his parents to his journeys in the forest. The wizard, unfazed by the story, spawned a jacket out of nothing and gave it to Arathor.
The wizard thanked Arathor for saving him and spoke. "Take my gift. Take this jacket and wear it into the kingdom. For you have saved me, so shall I save your people."
"How?" he asked.
"Face your fears. Face the king."
"But who are you?"
"Murrlawn." Then the wizard vanished before Arathor's eyes.
Scared but trusting, Arathor eventually did as the wizard asked and made the long journey back into the kingdom. Jacket on, he approached the gate guard and told him his heritage. The guard escorted him before the king, spear aimed at his back. After the king was informed, he gazed upon the man and asked him why he had come. Arathor responded that he came to take the freedom of his village. The king and his men laughed and howled in jest before giving the order to kill Arathor. A guard plunged the spear at Arathor's back! It did not pierce. For the guard cried in pain as the spear shattered back into his face. The king, now dumbfounded, yelled out for all his guards to attack. Each swing of a sword or fire of an arrow would deflect back at the attackers.
Once the advances stopped, Arathor took the moment to speak. "You have shown no mercy and seek only power. Should you attempt to harm another innocent life in your kingdom, I shall show your kingdom no mercy and show you the true meaning of power."
Frightened, the king nodded, and Arathor left. Only a day later, the king rode with his army to the home village of Arathor, only to discover it abandoned. Upon searching the place up and down and all around, all that remained was a hardcover book with the words "tell my story" on the front. Enraged, the king rode to his castle and thundered up to his quarters. He tossed the book in the fire and cursed into the wind from his balcony. That night the king woke to a light in the corner of his room. As he rubbed away the sleep, the light moved toward him. It was Arathor! And he held the book that the king had thrown in the fire. Stunned, the king froze.
Arathor spoke. "You disappoint me, King. I saw you this morning with your army, seeking to enact your fury, and when you couldn't, you tossed my gift in the fire. Sadly for you, it cannot be destroyed. And should you try to lose it, it will always find a way back to you. Because of what you did today, I take away your kingdom, your power, and leave you only with this dull castle. Do not force my hand again."
Arathor handed King Kaylob the book and left him to his defeat. In trying to avoid the prophecy, the king caused it and lost everything. He lived out his remaining years in isolation. His legacy passed on the book from generation to generation, and the story spread across the lands. But his kingdom never regained its former power.
The end.
Cathy finished the story with nothing but a blank page left to turn. "Is this book mentioned in the story real?"
"You just read it," Kaizerious answered, pointing.
Cathy didn't expect that answer. "This?"
"It is just a folktale."
"It can't be. Erryn wouldn't have ju--" Cathy bit her tongue.
Frustrated, she turned to the last page - the blank one. A note! It was taped inside the back cover. "At the king's fire, call my name," the note read. Another riddle! Freven great!
"Any idea what that means?" Cathy asked Kaizerious. Throughout her time searching for the brotherhood, he had been there to help every step of the way. She had come to respect his intelligence and this instance was no different.
"King's fire?" His eyes drifted toward the ceiling. "In the story, King Kaylob threw the book in the fire of his fireplace. I'd start there."
"You really are a genius."
⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕
Kaizerious asked around and found out that the current king's chambers were not in the same place as the king's chambers during King Kaylob's reign. Those old chambers where in an ancient, sealed off part of the castle. Kaizerious had to get permission from King Kaydon to venture into such a place.
At a sealed off door, a knight pulled away the nailed boards to allow it to open. He let them venture in by themselves.
It was an old study abandoned to dust and spiders. A decaying desk sat near one end of the room, while a carved bench decorated the other. Books doused in layers of grime and filth lined the shelved walls. At the back was a circular staircase leading upward.
They followed the creaky steps up and up the tower. They then reached the top landing, which led to a wooden door. Kaizerious pulled it open by the latch, and its creak echoed down the stairs. It was a bedroom that hadn't seen use in decades. A mattress had partially fallen to the floor due to a broken peg. Any furniture that had remained in this room was a shell of its former glory. Across from the mattress was a fireplace with a stone mantel, caste, and chimney.
Cathy stood in front of it and wondered for a moment how they would light it without firewood. That's when she saw Kaizerious snap apart pieces from the furniture and tossed them into the fireplace. She doused the wood with some airjin fuel from a bullet and lit a match. It was enough to ignite a fire.
They stood beside the lit fire, and Cathy shrugged and whispered, "Erryn?" as though asking a question. Nothing. "Erryn Wolph." Again, nothing. "What now?"
Kaizerious pondered the thought. "The note was attached to the book. What is the name of the book?"
"Tale of the Lost Village."
The fire shimmered and roared. The red flames blinked blue before all was normal again. On top of the flames sat a book looking much older than those picture books in the children's section. Cathy reached into the flame and grabbed it. Remarkably, there was no heat, no burn.
"That does it. I believe in magic," Cathy joked dryly.
She turned it open and read. Every word was the same as what she already read before. Wait, no! The last page, it started differently:
That night the king woke to a light in the corner of his room. As he rubbed away the sleep, the light moved toward him. It was Arathor! And he held the book that the king had thrown in the fire. Stunned, the king froze.
Arathor spoke. "You disappoint me, King. I saw you this morning with your army, seeking to enact your fury, and when you couldn't, you tossed my gift in the fire. Sadly for you, it cannot be destroyed. And should you try to lose it, it will always find a way back to you. Because of what you did today, I take away your kingdom, your power, and leave you only with this dull castle. Do not force my hand again."
Arathor handed King Kaylob the book. But before going, he whispered on last thing, one last riddle. "In blood you sought to bathe my village, but our blood shall always conquer. Those of this blood need only seek home to find home."
Arathor left him to his defeat. In trying to avoid the prophecy, the king caused it and lost everything. He lived out his remaining years in isolation. His legacy passed on the book from generation to generation, and the story spread across the lands. But his kingdom never regained its former power.
The end.
"That doesn't make sense!" Cathy was running low on patience. "In blood you sought to bathe my village, but our blood shall always conquer. Those of this blood need only seek home to find home. I'd say that the first part is clear. It simply refers back to the story when King Kaylob tried to attack Arathor's village. It's the second part that must lead to something."
"I think he says that anyone of his lineage - those of this blood - are supposed to go home." Kaizerious scratched at his chin, with his eyes up in thought.
"Home? You mean that village that King Kaylob tried to attack?"
Kaizerious gave it a moment. "I think that would be a good place to check." He hesitated, then put up a finger. "Hang on. I'll be back shortly." She waited for a few moments, thinking over the story and if there were any more details that would be helpful. She barely noticed when Kaizerious returned, despite his size and rather loud steps. "I found this on the shelves downstairs." He showed an old map from King Kaylob's reign and unrolled it over the dusty castle floor. "Please pull up the current map of the Tolkran Kingdom."
Cathy used her cyberwatch and enlarged the image before projecting it next to the old map. There were many differences, the biggest being scale. The old Tolkran Kingdom was far larger than what it was today. Cathy didn't know where to begin. There was so much.
Kaizerious raised his finger and pointed to a spot on the map. "I found it."
"Found it? Already?" Cathy looked at the village he pointed at and compared it to her map. In its place was a small town called Grimlock. It was on the very northern edge of the current Tolkran Kingdom.
"What makes you so sure?"
"Before you arrived, I remember reading somewhere about Lord Smyth Grimlock receiving land for himself and all his future generations in perpetuity for his valor in battle by decree of King Rickter. That land contained the abandoned ruins of a village that King Kaylob marked as cursed."
Cathy agreed. While it wasn't perfect, this was the best lead they had. It was well worth a shot. Only thing, they would have quite a long travel ahead of them. Being that it was past midday, they would likely get there close to midnight in ARW time.
⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕
Kaizerious and Cathy were at the edge of Grimlock, having been dropped off close not too long ago. King Kaydon was nice enough to lend them transport via a dropship. There were gates and a fence of tall planked wood. Above it all was a tower with a knight on guard.
The gates opened outward at his command, and a man in armor came forward to meet Kaizerious and Cathy. The old man had no helmet; his hair was as pale as his armor, yet he seemed strong and graceful for all that. From his shoulders hung a pure white cloak.
"King Kaydon sent word of your arrival," He stopped before them, eyeing them up and down. "I'm Lord Smyth Grimlock II. Please follow me inside."
They went through the gates. Grimlock was a complex spanning several acres and protected by two massive walls. There was a village at the end, older than anything else in the complex, called the Grim Ruins. It was separated from the main town by a gate.
As they headed to the back of the town, Lord Smyth spoke. "Grimlock was built near an ancient forest which spread over a natural hot springs. The water is piped through walls and chambers to heat them, making Grimlock more comfortable than other complexes nearby."
"You'd think there'd be better technology out here," said Cathy.
"The far north is a land mostly of lowbloods. But we take care of our own in these parts."
Inside the walls, the complex was composed of dozens of courtyards and small open spaces. Weapons training and practice took place in those yards. Located next to a broken tower was an inner yard that was an older open space in the castle where archery practice took place. At the center of the town stood the inner castle, containing a great keep and a great hall. They passed fewer than a hundred omelics, and maybe a dozen of them were armed knights.
Many of the towers and halls had diamond-shaped window panes, constructed of materials including stucco, brick, and stone.
They reached an open gate at the back of Grimlock that led into the Grim Ruins. A dirt road wove its way through the ruins. Lord Smyth stopped. "Here we are. I'll leave you be." He left them.
Made of materials gathered from a nearby river, many of these abandoned homes and farms were degraded and spalling away. The limestone and river stones weren't made to last this many centuries. A very few of the structures used a wooden lap siding cut from the forest near the town.
The ruins were open to a forest - the same one Smyth mentioned. It was a dark, primal place of old forest left mostly untouched for thousands of years, even as this gloomy town rose near it. Covering as far as her eyes could see, it smelled of moist earth and decay. No softwood trees grew there. Instead, that place grew stubborn sentinel trees armored in gray-green needles, mighty oaks, ironwoods as old as Omulice. Thick black trunks crowded close together while twisted branches wove a dense canopy overhead and misshapen roots wrestled beneath the soil. It was a place of deep silence and brooding shadows.
There was an omelic here and there, but there wasn't much action as they walked the street through the ruins. The omelics they did see were coming back from a hunt with freshly killed prey.
Towards the end of the ruins was a chapel that fit the architecture of the rest. To what religion it was built for was unknown to Cathy. She vaguely remembered that places of worship on Omulice had a formal name, only Cathy couldn't recall. Even though it was the largest structure remaining in the village, it was the best maintained.
As they got to the entrance door, an omelic man came out and passed by them with an interested stare. Then they went inside.
The entrance door led right into the sanctuary room with wooden benches, each hand-carved to match the walls and ceiling. All of them had been maintained, polished, and stained. Lining the room were candles hung on walls and near benches. Cathy was amazed at the height of the ceiling - at least fifteen meters and supported by thick limestone columns.
"Welcome," said the omelic at the other end. He stood just past the deacon doors near the ambo, or preaching stage. Old and in traditional omelic religious attire, he stepped down to meet his new guests. "What brings you to my sanctum?"
"We believe this village was the home village of Arathor."
The omelic tilted his head with a funny expression. "The Grim Ruins were abandoned long ago."
"You're still here," Kaizerious prodded.
"I maintain this beautiful piece of omelic history and even hold sermons here once every fortnight."
"If you haven't heard of Arathor, maybe you've heard of the Brotherhood of Relics," Cathy queried.
"Only the legend."
"In any case, we would be honored if you'd kindly allow us to take a look around." Kaizerious was polite with his tone.
"Absolutely. This is a public monument." The omelic man stepped aside and allowed them room to press onward.
The sanctuary connected to a back storage door to the left corner and hallway to the right. Kaizerious led Cathy towards the hallway. He opened the wooden door by its cast iron latch and ducked under the frame. Four stair risers were to the left. Two doors were at the top on the right, and a table with candles was at the end of the hall for decoration.
Cathy noticed the omelic man was following them. So long as he didn't disturb them, she didn't mind.
The first door led into a utility area of sorts. Carved limestone for walls, drainage pipes were running along some of it. That short hall led down stone stairs into a room with a massive wood burning furnace the size of that entire wall. Left of it was a metal cabinet with mechanical equipment for maintenance. The technology was at least a century behind what she saw at Direclaw, but it was definitely not original to this sanctum.
"Quite the setup," Cathy observed. She got no response.
Over to the right, another short staircase led into a hollowed-out room. It was carved below the ground, and you could still see the bedrock being used for walls. This room could very well have been original to the sanctum.
They entered and realized in an instant they were in a catacomb. Each wall housed square, sealed panels of carved stone to protect the bodies buried within.
Cathy looked at the names, many of which were hard to read, being as old as they were. She scanned to the right as Kaizerious went left. In her head, she read:
Lord Jaune Parkenton
Lord Jaune Parkenton II
Ser Jaydom Parkenton
Ser Fron Spiden
Ser Phuelix Dosk
Ser Phenrick Dosk
Ser Arathor Home
Ser Maxtron Gaytes
Wait. Cathy stopped in her tracks. Those of this blood only seek home to find home. Arathor Home. The second home is a person, not a place.
"Over here!" Cathy waved Kaizerious over to her. "Seek home to find home. Arathor Home. Get it?"
Kaizerious turned to the man. "Are you fine with me removing this panel?"
"This is a public monument. You are free to explore." He smiled. Cathy thought it was strange that he was being so accommodating.
Kaizerious pulled the panel loose. She expected to see a body within the tomb, but none was present. Webs and dust were all that was there. As she got a better look, she could see it led far into the dark.
"I think I can crawl in there." Cathy didn't give Kaizerious a chance to protest as she heaved herself into the tight space.
"Cathy." Kaizerious touched her leg. "I won't be able to follow you."
"I'll scout ahead. See if you can find another way." Using her arms and legs, she military-crawled her way deeper. Her cyberwatch offered dim light, but it only allowed her to see a meter ahead at most.
After just a minute, she reached an edge and pulled herself through into another room. She could hardly see, but on the wall was a torch. She ignited a match and placed it to the torch, lighting it up as well. The hidden room was small and square. There was just one way, and it was down some stairs. Cathy was surprised at just how much heat had built up underground.
Cathy looked back through the tunnel, and she could hardly see Kaizerious on the other side. "It continues onward. I can't tell how far or deep."
"Keep going. I'll try and find another way," he assured her.
Cathy knew he was far too big to fit into the tunnel to reach this side. She had no choice but to hope there was another entrance he could use to get inside.
Cathy continued down some stairs that were the longest set so far. It was damp, and cobwebs were all over the place. Eventually, the stairs opened to a wooden balcony. It creaked and crunched under her steps. Some boards had holes inside. She may very well have been the first person to come down here in centuries.
The balcony overlooked a circular cavern that went straight down too far to see. Roots of trees were vining downward with the cavern. The only way down was to take the wooden steps following the circular wall. She didn't feel good about it whatsoever. There was a hint of light peeking into the cavern, which may mean Kaizerious could find a way inside after all. He did know it was here, so he had that advantage.
After taking in a few breaths, Cathy started down the aching, creaking stairs. She used as light of steps as she could and took her time avoiding all the holes. It was made of centuries-old wood and centuries-old rope that barely looked to be holding her weight. Each step was a hazard.
Ten heart-pounding minutes later, she reached the end of the staircase and entered a bridge leading to a cave tunnel. It was short and led to a stone door. She pulled a lever and was inside.
Torches lit on queue when the door opened, and a box-shaped room was revealed. Inside were two things - a rectangular device with stairs leading up to it, and a pedestal with writing on the top. Cathy made her way down to it and read the writing engraved into the metallic pedestal. "Here lies the entrance of the only pair of starportals created by the holy divisors. Those of blood may step through."
There was a button above the writing Cathy pushed, which set off the device in the back. From each of the four corners, a field of energy trickled out until it covered the entire area of the rectangular open space of the device. The energy looked of plasma and bubbled.
She got on her comm. "Kaizerious. I found a portal, and I think it leads to the brotherhood."
There was a pause. "Go on without me. I'm afraid I cannot follow you."
"Are you sure?"
"Absolutely. Find them, and then your sister." He cut out.
Cathy felt a sadness because she had to go on without him, but she had a duty. That came above all.
Near her leg, she felt something strange and looked down. She caught a glimpse of something zoom away from her and into the device.
Was that a spider? she thought.
With as many webs as there were in this place, the possibility was there. Nonetheless, it seemed to make it through just fine. Cathy was now filled with the same confidence and marched through the starportal. Her body felt like ice adrift on a slow river, and she soon lost all her senses, but not all the way.