Castle Alvric, Farryn. Secret chamber of the Alvric Council.
Nolan Alvric
“Did we get it, Eskan?”
“Aye, Patriarch, the merchant we ambushed had quite a lot on him.”
“How many?”
“Fifteen.”
“That’s a lot,” Filip Alvric, the 1st Elder said, surprised.
“Let me see,” Nolan Alvric said, gesturing with his hands. As Patriarch of his clan, he had the right to use these treasures as he saw fit — or at least he should. Albeit, reality always tended to be different from one’s fantasies.
Nolan watched as Elder Eskan nodded fanatically, smiling with glee. He provided a small pouch from his storage ring, reaching across from his seat on the other side of the redwood table, and handed it over to Nolan. From his seat on a raised dais, Nolan received the pouch and unsealed it producing a blue gem.
“Huh!” he gasped, and the rest of the Elders present leaned in to get a good look at the gem, dragging long-plaited, red-brown beards across the table. He almost had the urge to pocket the gem away from their eyes.
“Heavens above, these are larger than the last ones we got!” The 2nd Elder, Fredrik Alvric, spoke excitedly, his long, full beard joining in the excitement.
“Blue Heart gem, or as we call it — Soul fire gem,” Nolan Alvric said in awe. “Vorthe wastes its potential, using it for manufacturing firecrackers and matchsticks.”
He held up the Soul fire gem and it caught the light of the sun, reflecting it around the chamber. The red drapes of the chamber were bathed in a moment’s glitter of blue light giving the chamber a dreamy appearance.
“But the true potential of this beauty is… unimaginable,” Nolan Alvric said.
“Ahem,” Filip Alvric, the 1st Elder drew his attention. “Forgiveness Patriarch, but the Ancient One requires the Soul fire gem more than we do.” With all his might, Nolan knew he couldn’t hold back the gem. The First Elder wasn’t an Elder in name only. His thin build and almost gaunt features hid a formidable Sage.
“Hmm,” Nolan frowned, placing the gem carefully in its pouch. He handed over the pouch to Elder Eskan, who handed it to Filip.
You are nothing more than a glorified babysitter, Filip. One of these days, he grumbled inwardly. “Anders?”
“Yes, Patriarch,” Anders Alvric stood up ceremoniously to speak, his flamboyant robes flowing around him. As the youngest Elder among the Alvric Council, Nolan allowed him his pleasures in public — for now. He was still riding on the high of taking the lofty position of Elder — hence the glamorous layers of flamboyant robes. Life would catch up to him soon and his fantasies about a world where he was at the top of the food chain would pop like a bubble. But for now he’d let him enjoy his moment.
“Our spies are yet to discover anything new happening in the Royal Estate, though there were signs of an estate-wide renovation, none of them could glimpse the reason behind it,” Anders said.
“The Ancient One advises against spying on the Royals, Patriarch — with good reason,” Filip Alvric said with great concern.
“If we are to break loose of their hold, Filip, we need information. If you have got a better way to bring it, I’m all ears!” the Patriarch shot back.
The First Elder, Filip Alvric, shook his head. “With a Transcendent as the Sovereign of Vorthe, spying on them is next to impossible.”
“Why do you speak like an outsider, Filip!” the Patriarch roared angrily, standing up from his seat. “We Alvrics have existed in this land seventeen generations before the first Vorthe ever was born! Yet they shackle us to this city like sheaves of corn stacked upon each other, suppressing our growth! We are Alvrics, damn it!”
“Calm your wrath, Nolan,” the 1st Elder warned. He was a much older Sage compared to Nolan Alvric. The graying hairs at his temples were sign enough. His switching to first name basis meant he took offense at being talked to in a demeaning manner. “The Argonaut curled up in fright at the sight of the first Vorthe eons ago. Our legacy. Our inheritance. The very reason Alvric stands to this day!
“It curled up in fright before one man. The same Argonaut who imprisoned Shar’tu in the sky, swallowed whole, N’tdaea and his sea dragon. Until he ascends, Nolan, I suggest we wait!”
“Aye,” Nolan accepted unwillingly. He could do nothing else so there was no need to fight it. “At least we can make plans, no?”
The tension in the room abated a little.
“Aye, I second the First Elder’s decision to wait,” the Second Elder, Fredrik Alvric said.
Nolan Alvric looked around the table and everyone seemed to be nodding their accent.
“Here me out then. We’ve left this matter unattended for too long, partly because there was nothing to use against Vorthe. But I’ve discovered a deep-seated secret in this land,” he said, piquing their interest. “How many of you know how Tormar was destroyed?”
“The city of Tormar? The mining city?” Anders Alvric asked, confused. As the youngest sage in the Alvric Council, he lacked the knowledge and experience the others thrived on.
“It once was destroyed, aye,” Eskan Alvric, the Third Elder said, caressing his beard as he brought him up to speed, “400 years ago, was it?” He was the shortest Sage Nolan had ever known. Round like a pregnant cattle’s belly and drank so much ale, his cheeks were rosy all day long. But he was also very resourceful; an ally he could count on.
“The Royals say it was a mining accident of sorts,” Nolan picked up where Eskan stopped. “To this day, there has been no apparent reason for how it happened. But I found clues. Hidden in The Annals of House Tarmin.” Nolan Alvric looked around the table once more to make sure he had their attention.
“Someone wrote of a creature that looks like a man — a daimon. Only by chance, was it seen flying westward from the mountain range.”
“How did someone from the House of Steel see something so far from the South?” Eskan asked doubtfully.
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The others began grumbling their unbelief, but Nolan was unfazed. He came prepared and began laying out evidence in the form of written scrolls on the table.
“Where did you get all this?” Fredrik asked.
“Ahem,” the Patriarch looked away. He was bound by oath to always tell the truth to the Council so he could not lie — a shame, that.
“Nolan?” the First Elder called out, his sharp gaze focusing on him like the edge of a blade. “I demand you tell us where you found all these,” he said as the other Elders picked up scrolls with writing dating back tens of thousands of years.
“Although these writings are old and look to be genuine testimonies of sightings of a beast or demon, they are at best, myths from tales of times past,” Fredrik Alvric said. “You would need to provide better evidence than these if you want us to believe in the existence of your Daimon.”
“I had my spies gather them for me,” Nolan said.
“Gather?” Filip asked with a raised eyebrow.
“Hmm,” Nolan grumbled. “My point is, the daimon always comes from one place and goes back thus — the mountain range. And clearly the Royal family knows about this. Perhaps it’s a weapon they use to silence people.”
“Listen to yourself Nolan, you sound absurd!” Filip spat.
“Do you have something better?” Nolan rebutted. “Have you ever seen or heard of a daimon?”
“No, Nolan. And that’s because it does not exist!”
“Oh, it does exist, Filip, and you never heard of it because the Royal family doesn’t want you to!”
The very tension inside the chamber began to rise again as the two Sages spat at each other.
“I know you long for battle, Nolan,” Filip said. “For the glorious wars of ages past. But do not forget you swore an oath — to provide,” he ripped a scroll into pieces, “and help the family thrive.”
Filip picked up another and was about to rip it apart, but Nolan held his hand. “I also swore another,” he said, looking the First Elder in the eyes. “To free us all from Vorthe’s leash! We stay here in this land, while our people, our armies down south grow weaker without purpose.”
“Without a conquest, you mean,” Filip said.
“Do you not see how soft our people have become?”
The rest of the Elders in the room grumbled at that as they continued browsing through the scrolls. Nolan would smack them if he could. They had become used to seeing this scene every time they held Council. They just sat back and enjoyed the show.
“Yes, we were allowed to keep our lands. I know,” Nolan raised a hand to stop Filip from interrupting him. “But our children and elites must now be raised in Farryn, instead of back in their homeland where they can grow up in tradition, in the wild where they belong.”
“Oh, for heaven’s sake, Nolan, that’s why the Vorthes organize events like Pilgrims’ Keep.”
“Aye, where my son was beaten to a pulp by a twelve-year-old.”
“Who is dead, remember? Which is a shame. Probably would have flourished in Alvric hands.”
“He speaks and acts like one of them now! Tell me, Filip, how is this of benefit to our creed?!” Nolan gestured at the air with his hands.
“You forget you were raised here as well, Nolan, and you turned out quite well I must say, with a hard-steel head on your neck, and a never-rusting brazen tongue!”
Nolan raised his hands in defeat. “I’ve had enough, you all can go through the scrolls. It is evidence enough the beast exists. I plan to capture it—”
“Nolan, have you gone mad?!” Filip snapped. “You plan to spend family resources chasing a three-headed horse?!”
Nolan Alvric shoved a memory crystal into his hand. “View the memory in it. It didn’t come cheap, so restrain yourself.”
~~~
Fredrik Alvric
Without the assent of the First Elder, Nolan could do nothing. He had to convince Filip that the beast wasn’t a fairytale. Just a little more missteps. He was a patient man. And luckily, he was able to advance to Sage not long after Nolan did. He just had to be patient, and let the mouse get closer and closer to its own demise.
Soon, the Ancient One would see no reason to keep Nolan as Patriarch of the Clan. the First Elder was content to be just that — an Elder. He had greater plans though. His plans lay where his skills lay — commerce. He’d take away every financial opportunity in Vorthe to make Alvric invincible if that was what it took to become Patriarch. But baby steps… baby steps.
“Heavens above!” Filip exclaimed after a few breaths. He looked up at the Patriarch in shock, unable to utter anymore words. Fredrik knew that gaze. It was the gaze that said, ‘How the fuck is that possible!’ He became curious to see what the First Elder had seen.
“If I may, Elder Filip,” Fredrik requested for the memory crystal. The moment he poured his perception into it, the world transformed around him.
We embarked on a mission toward the mountain range to find rare ores for the smithy. Caed had heard rumors of a bootleg market in Giza. From Giza, we followed crumbs of rumors that led us to the northern mountains. Aye, t’was a thrilling moment when we found signs of the black ore.
The cold earth beneath our boots did not deter us from digging up our find. I was the digger for our little mission, for I was better at wielding earth essence. After digging 20 feet deep, the ore came into view.
A very large chunk of black ore — a motherlode!
We cried out in joy and excitement, our hearts, light with joy. But that our joy was not meant to be long, for the next thing we knew someone screamed! Our jubilation was cut short as we noticed one of ours was missing — Dowen, it was.
My brothers above ground drew their weapons ready to do battle. But another was taken all of a sudden, his scream could be heard far in the distance.
“Why does the night seem darker than usual?” Cowen had asked, but he disappeared right after.
My heart nearly failed me for I knew death had come knocking. It wanted my soul even though I was not ready. Whatever creature was out there, it was hunting us for sport. After the twins, Dowen and Cowen, it took Fitz, and Twice, now I alone remain.
The creature placed its bloody hand on the edge of the hole. Black claws dripping with blood curled slowly for a firm grip. The hands were human but skeletal and horrifying! Its face peeked into the hole and I wet me pants from what I saw. A daimon. With gaunt features and fangs growing out its mouth. Its irises glowed the color of blood as it salivated at the sight of me.
I tried digging into the ground but I was paralyzed with fear and just sat there waiting for death — to be eaten.
The creature suddenly turned east and I could sense hesitation from it. Then fear. It flew away as the first rays of the sun peeked through the canopy of clouds…
“Incredible!” Fredrik exclaimed as he withdrew his perception from the memory crystal. “There was something of this magnitude in Vorthe and no one knew of it?”
“There is something of this magnitude, Fredrik,” the Patriarch corrected him. “Filip?”
The First Elder looked to be in a dilemma. “Well, this does lend credence to your tale,” he muttered. He stood up to pace behind his chair as the remaining Elders scanned the memory stone. “500 high-grade crystal coins is all I can issue for this,” he said.
“That’s plenty much, Filip,” the Patriarch turned to Eskan. “We wait until time draws near for the opening of Vorthes Void World to bring in more men from the south, but put our people on standby.”
“Ah!” Fredrik exclaimed. “It would soon be that time again, yes? Vorthe and their Void Worlds.”
Nolan shrugged. “T’is what they use to keep us content… for now, that is. A phoenix cannot be held against its own will for long.”
Elder Filip grunted, dissatisfied with how things turned out. Nolan was feeling good about himself for chancing upon such a find. Fredrik hoped it would get to his head and blind him to making a ghastly mistake. He didn’t care. As long as it got him to the seat of the Patriarch.
“And when would they hold their tournament?” he asked. “In five… seven summers?”
“A decade. Anders,” Nolan called. “Store the scrolls safely away. The memory crystal remains in my keeping.” He rose, signaling the end of the meeting.
They all bundled out of the meeting chamber, talking about the upcoming new year’s celebration. Fredrik looked back as he thought he caught a glance of something. He pushed his mental energy, scanning the Council room but sensed nothing.