It took them several hours to make their way down the mountain, through shepherds passes and narrow crags. Icy as it was, Tyr didn't feel the cold upon him. Refreshing as ever, the frigid air had ceased to bother him after his long training with Varinn. He preferred places like this, with the clean air, quiet enough he could hear his own breathing and crunch of his boots on the gravel. There was too much noise near everywhere else.
His feet did not fail him, carrying on in easy lockstep with Valkan's long strides. A body forged through long travels through the empire and constant exercise since. There was significance in consistency, and Tyr had never stopped testing himself. Refusing to return to the frail thing he'd been. His jagged edges would eventually be smoothed and made a proper blade, and he'd be better for it. Always, he'd thought himself wise to the world. He was no such thing, he'd been nothing and continued to be nothing, accepting that. But that wouldn't last forever. He'd seen, learned, and experienced – and he knew that he was broken. Fixing himself would be a slow process but it would happen.
These Anu were great craftsmen and builders. Half the twin mountains framing their valley home where the farms lay were wreathed with honeycombed construction. Wide plazas and aqueducts leading down toward a central square. A massive spire, a collection of towers of varying height built into one another. Stretching impossibly tall into the sky, making all of the other buildings around it seem inconsequential in comparison.
This would put the dwarves to shame... Tyr had always heard of them being the best workers of stone, but their keeps were tiny compared to this. Beyond the artifice was the magic. Arrays and wards encompassed the whole valley, with crystals soaring through the sky like birds. Some dropped in their elevation to observe the two traveling through their lands, flashing beams of light at them before fleeing. More above them to watch their every move.
Tyr could smell the mana in them. Offensive spells ready to let loose at a moments notice. Drones, Valkan called them, and that seemed an appropriate name. Swarming like bees to ensure that anything entering their tiny kingdom was aware of all that happened within their borders.
It hadn't taken long for them to come within notice. A squad of soldiers digging up clouds of dust in their approach, Valkan ceasing his march and patiently awaiting their arrival. Too large for common mounts, they had no need of them. Their speed beggared belief. Physically powerful enough to put the greatest Harani warhorse to shame, and all of them standing over the height of Valkan who seemed small in comparison. Nine feet tall at the crown, wide in the shoulders and just as sturdy as the professor if not more so.
Tyr wondered exactly what kind of trap he'd fallen into before Valkan soothed his concerns with a meaningful look and a disturbing reply.
“If they'd wanted us dead, the cannons would've turned us to red mist on the mountain. As long as you're with me, you're safe. In any event, you're not human, so there is no law breached here and they will eventually see that – though I'd wait for the council to address you before you make it obvious.”
He presented his hands to the lead warrior approaching them. A hulk of flesh fine braids blanketing his scalp and hanging near to the waist. Upon noticing his 'mark', the pale knotted scar at the neck, they spoke no words. It was forbidden to address the exiled. Tyr had barely noticed it, but upon further inspection it was similar to a gallows mark. A roughing around the flesh that scarred and bruised, leaving testament to a hanging. Or a collar, as was the case of Valkan, one heated to cherry red and clamped over his throat while he'd awaited his trial. Magnificent were these Anu, but they certainly seemed cruel. A barbarism to them that belied their graceful architecture.
Together, the group walked off towards the tower at the center of the valley, leaving Tyr to freely observe his surroundings again. “It's oddly convenient that Abaddon can just zip us about to any place on the continent... How does he do that?”
“It's not that simple.” Valkan marched on, his expression gloomy, but thankful for the distraction. Tyr didn't seem to feel any fear or anticipation at all. Staring in wonder, but not balking in the face of the hulking figures of the striders surrounding them. “All across the lands of men, there are wards to prevent this kind of magic. Only in certain places, where beacons are planted, can he transport us. They used to be everywhere, but now they are few.”
“Why?” Tyr asked. It was of such an incredible convenience that he was left wondering yet again why the human kingdoms disliked dimensional magic so much. For the most part, only the successor states seemed like a place it could be used freely, and that was not always the case.
Valkan shrugged. “Superstition, perhaps. More obviously for protection. Few are able to generate a long range gate without an artifact or focus, like those you've seen in the academy. Without the wards laid over the course of centuries to bind dimensional magic and contain it, it'd be near impossible to manage those who came and went. Borders would become irrelevant, goods would lose value, and half the world might be unemployed or worse.”
There were also the 'rifts' as they were called. Dimensional magic wasn't so easy for humans. It was a complex and heavily ritualized school of study that allowed one to slip between places. Sliding along the veil between the rift and the physical world, rather than passing through it entirely. There were other things beyond the rift, and these arrays present near everywhere were as much for them than the more mundane threat of traveling mages and human armies.
It was the place where monsters were born. Or the energy and catalysts necessary to awaken them from normal creatures, whatever the case may be. Anu knew that the spira provided the first line of defense, and to stop dungeons from spawning nearly everywhere – further protections were necessary. Many races knew this, even the frail humans – though their understanding of the necessity was clouded by dogma.
“Are they going to... I don't know, jail or execute you for coming back? In Haran, a banished one would be killed at the border.”
“We are not so violent.” Valkan's chuckle was grim. “My crimes were worthy of exile, but not execution. If I were to spurn the council again, I may be executed – otherwise I will be beaten and sent beyond the border. My clan is well respected among the conclave, I doubt much will happen with your artifacts in our possession.”
“Are you lot always this serious?” Tyr turned toward their escort, the shortest and widest of which looked down at him. 'Shortest' was still eight feet tall, and his arms were as thick as Tyr's waist.
“This is our way, child of man. We may not speak nor communicate with the banished beyond what is necessary. A grim omen, it returning. As for you, count yourself lucky that you were not killed on sight.”
'Not so violent.'
“It's bad enough that you can speak the tongue of Anu, let alone that you defile the only lands left to us with your steps.”
That was that. In terms of conversation, it wasn't much. Despite the Anu's words, Tyr felt no murderous intent in the air and while it might be law to kill humans who trespassed, he didn't think they wanted to do it. People watched from from their positions all around. From afar, he could see a herd of flightless, shaggy birds. They'd appear similar to a chicken if not for their long hooked beaks and the fact that they stood even taller than Anu. Pecking about their fields as their shepherds watched, vigilant toward any threat. Each and every bird bore a unique color mottling their feathers, bright orange on one and a dull purple on another.
“There are called therons.” Valkan said, pointing.
“Good eating, eh?” Tyr noticed their wide breasts, birds were never what he'd call muscular. In fact, he hated birds in general, but these were fairly unique. Stockier, with those of the less shaggy variety revealing thick and well muscled necks. He was confident that these things could easily maul a bear, left wondering what creature might be a threat to them. “I never preferred white meat, but I suppose something like that would fill my stomach.”
“We do not eat them.” The same 'strider' as before growled down at him. “The theron are not birds, either. They belong to the same family as raptids, terrormaws, and saurians. Warm blooded lizards, and their meat is red.”
“Can I have some?” Tyr asked, but all he received was an offended glare in response. The strider looking down at him like he'd said something vile and disgusting. If they didn't eat them, what in world was their purpose...?
“You would be wise to silence yourself now, Tyr.” Valkan smiled, but the mentioned prince could see the anxious anticipation on his face, plain as day. Half excitement, half dread.
The closer they came to the center of the valley, the signs of life grew denser. Anu, with their gray skin and earthen tones to their fur blended well with the surrounding environment. Most went shirtless, except for those geared for battle, difficult to discern from the dappling on the rocks and ridges surrounding their home. Unconcerned with the frigid air rolling down from their icy mountain peaks.
Anyone seeing this place would've laughed at the claim that Anu were savages, or unable to wield magic. Everywhere here was magic, enough to equal Amistad – though there were not nearly so many of these people as there were humans. Their population was small, making up for their relative lack of numbers by simply being better. At everything, by the looks of it.
Artifacts flying through the air, discs and levitating barges full of goods. Structures built flush with the ground, bunkers that went on for a hundred meters before Tyr's senses hit their limit. Metal obelisks set with titanic blades, twirling lazily and clockwise in the cool air like some kind of massive fan. Mana crystals abounded in everything, even the automated doors that slid open to allow entry into what must've been their domiciles.
It was no wonder why humans had invaded their lands. With what these Anu were capable of, they lived a privileged existence. Putting even the greatest builders of humanity to shame and making the academy look like the crude artifice of clumsy children. Their roads were flat, people well fed, and safe behind thousands of arrays. Arrays that Tyr was certain at least half of which were designed for violence. Even if he couldn't read the runes, he could feel the threat in them. Things that could vaporize him, melt his flesh and smash him into his tiniest pieces.
Contrary to his expectations, they did not meet with this 'council' by climbing up the tower. In fact...
Tyr stared up, the spire was but a monolithic cylinder, the sky visible through its highest point, completely hollow. “What is this place?” That which was visible outside was shocking enough, but this was insane. Something to rival, perhaps even exceed that which the long gone Orik had been capable of building. The towers adjacent the main structure were set with galleries and gantries, glowing with runes and bright mana circuits of all colors, hollow as well with only their walls and roofs protecting them from the elements. “Do people not live here?” He asked.
“No.” Valkan replied. “This is the nexus. There are many like it, but this one is ours. Was ours, I should say.”
“Is it a weapon?”
A question answered by another, in lieu of the professor.
“A shield would be a more appropriate term, though the greater significance of these structures are lost to us. Anu can make many things, but this is knowledge we no longer possess. None among our kind know what purpose the nexus' serve, only that they are necessary.” An Anu of a more unique coloration than the others, carrying a thick and gnarled staff of blueish steel that glowed with faint runes covering every inch of its surface. More than Tyr had thought a single artifact capable of bearing, over a hundred. “Welcome to our halls. Forgive me the rudeness of a not so proper introduction. But I must ask, where did you learn our language?” The elder asked in clear interest, looking a bit happy to be observing the fact. “From it?”
Clearly, he was referring to Valkan.
“No.” Tyr replied, unable to take his eyes off the walls of the grandiose construction. It was just so... Big... How did it even remain standing? “I met a monster once and he asked me a similar question. Well... Not a monster. A person. I think...? Sometimes when I speak to people it sounds like my own language to myself, but something different to them. Apparently I have a very funny accent where kappa are concerned. They're like... Frog people, I guess...”
“The gift of allspeak is rare indeed, it feels nice to converse with one not Anu in our native tongue and not your clumsy language. You are blessed, little brother.”
“Little brother...?” Tyr tilted his head in confusion, raising a brow, but the elder did not elaborate. His fur and skin were as black as pitch, only the faintly glowing eyes beneath the brow identified him from a walking shadow. Wearing only a toga in the Varian style, finely embroidered and heavily enchanted.
“We've come to speak with the council.” Valkan had coached him in what to say and how to act on their way here, though he was shocked at the advent that Tyr could speak the sky-tongue. On the way here, he'd missed it, too lost in his thoughts to properly observe. He was, however, absolutely sure that they'd never spoken in anything but common before – which was perplexing considering Tyr's claim that he couldn't control it. “Will you point us in the right direction?” Their guards had stationed themselves in a ring around the base of the hollow structure, guiding them no further.
“No need for that, they are already here.” Beside the elder, constructs of light flared into being. 'Constructs' wouldn't do it justice, all told. Tyr had seen the holograms in the academy, they could come in many colors but not all at once. Typically they were blue... In any case, if not for the flickering plinths and slight imperfections in the holograms before him, he'd have thought they were real. Complete with all the range of color and motion a living thing should have.
This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
Each one was unique. Here was a beast of an Anu standing near ten feet tall – a literal giant clad in elaborate armor, with a hammer possessing a head nearly as wide and long as the prince's torso held lazily over his shoulder. Eight of them, nine if the black furred elder were to be included. “This is our council. The chieftains of every remaining Anu clan. And you? It is time to introduce yourself.”
“I am Tyr.”
“...”
The reply was so simple that it took a few of the chieftains by surprise. One of them was laughing, a twisted Anu looking far older than the rest, with an arm missing at the elbow and face little more than a mess of burns and scars.
“The human has time for jest?” The Anu with the hammer growled. If there were a warlike clan among these people, Tyr would bet money that it was the one led by that monster. 'Hologram' or not he could feel the promise of violence in the giants every movement. “Kill him and be done with this, I have better--”
The black furred elder raised a calm hand, silencing his angered kin. The holograms were truly so realistic that Tyr found himself curious as to whether or not they were solid. Resting his hand upon the armor of the hammer wielding one – it turned out they were. Warm too, he could even feel the rising of the mans chest beneath his heavy breastplate. Looking up, it was clear that not only could he feel these things – but they could feel him as well.
Hammer's eyes were twitching in a vain attempt to stifle his offense at being touched. A failure, for his hand swung around, crushing Tyr's arm and midriff with the ease of squeezing the juice from a fruit. A high pitched wheezing left the prince's throat as he was cast aside onto the floor, lungs smashed flat, still conscious so as to hear the clanking of steel as Hammer approached him. Walking free from his plinth, he clearly wasn't here, his form grew less distinct the further he traveled from the device that gave him form. But... How is this possible? As much pain as he was in, in this current moment, Tyr couldn't help but be in awe at how advanced Valkan's people were. Imagining a war where nobody fought in person by rather by 'piloting' one of these light constructs. Would that be possible?
“B'al! I will not have this... This... Human filth! Who desecrates the armor of my father with his disgusting hands!” The hammer rose, and would have fallen, if Valkan had not intercepting it. His face was a snarl to match the others, remaining silent except for the grunting of effort and grinding of his bones beneath the impressive weight. “It is heresy!”
“That is enough!” B'al, the black furred Anu, slammed his staff into the ground. A burst of yellow sparks suffused the air until all were caught in its embrace, bound and shackled by the magic. “These are my guests. Banished one or not – you are summoned to my home. Giltras, tell me – do you have eyes?”
“...”
“DO YOU HAVE EYES!?” B'al roared. Dwarfed as he was by the hammer wielding titan, it was clear who held greater authority. This Giltras was held firm by the magic and could no longer move.
Giltras' face betrayed him, frowning as his eyes searched for a way out. B'al was first among equals, and he had many allies where his fellow and far younger chieftain did not. “Yes... First chieftain.”
“This is not a human.” He gestured to indicate Tyr who rose lazily from the ground and brushing himself off. Utilizing the self cleansing properties of his mothers armor to rid himself of the waste he'd been forced to let loose into his riding breeches. Ruining a perfectly good pair of Assyrian 'briefs'. Tyr wasn't one for extravagant purchase, but moonsilk had a feel to it that he couldn't quite find anywhere else. This Giltras had done a fine job of squeezing him like a tube of toothpaste, not leaving much to the imagination based on the wrinkled noses and disgusted looks of the guards around them.
“A sky child.” Someone growled. The old scarred Anu with the missing arm. “A young one, but I am not aware of any son of Alexandros. Who are you, little brother? It is considered very rude to not introduce yourself by your full name, though I will not hold this against you. Anu names are a confession of their truth and identity.”
Anu names could range from three or four independent words at birth, growing to well over two hundred in their later years. Of course they didn't rattle off every single 'name' when they met, usually opting to choose eight or so and only at the first meeting. Names were of great significance to their people and served as the collection of merits, or the opposite, that had defined their lives. To Tyr, it'd be strange, but to Anu, the use of a 'first name' with no other would be like saying something along the lines that they were below him, equals, or not deserving of knowing who he was.
It could take a long time for Anu to hear the names of one they hadn't met. Giving him the opportunity to speak it was like an offering of bread, and he'd unwittingly slapped that bread from their hands. Giltras was too proud, too young and too foolish. Humans had three or four names at most, maybe some insignificant titles, none of the elders would've thought to enforce their traditions on a foreigner.
“Why do you call me little brother?” Tyr asked, letting his sacred flame dance around Valkan's most apparent injuries. He wasn't the best, always below average – but Abaddon had been right about healing. It required a finer level of mana control far above normal spell casting. After months of practice, he'd began to improve. Slowly, but it felt nice to see the pain in Valkan's eyes dim at the touch of the pale golden flames, even if all it did was aid the natural process rather than healing him. None of the others present in the place spared him a single look, Giltras had even behaved like he wasn't there at all, even in the midst of having his hammer grabbed.
“Because a little brother is a little brother. I am T'kal, chieftain of the conclave in the red river basin to the north, far afield and nearer the sea. We keep to the old ways, you are safe and always welcome in our halls. I'll even do you the favor of not filling your ear with my 163, but you are welcome to hear it should you prefer.”
Tyr turned toward the hunched elder. With his half-missing arm and withered body, he was much smaller than the rest – with only a single eye. A warrior once, perhaps, the prince wondered what could do such a thing to the mighty Anu. Size was relative, he was still much larger than Tyr, making a him a giant to any man and full of vitality.
“I appreciate that – but I thought you hated humans?”
“Humans.” T'kal nodded sagely in the affirmative. He was ancient and wrinkled, but his fangs were still as sharp and clean as the days of his youth. An old lion with patches of fur turned black while the rest of him was slate gray. “Are you a human? A rhetorical question.” He waved his own words away with his remaining hand, leaning over his staff and hunching down. “Anu hate nothing – first of all. Hatred is a poison to the spirit, though our younger kin will find no friend in man, and I cannot blame them for that – you are not human, you are of the sky. Our sworn brothers from ages past. The old blood flows through your veins, and we remember even if you do not.”
“T'kal, you speak in circles. My old friend is saying that you are not responsible for the crimes of humans. You nim are not to blame, compelled to old oaths made before the high ones as you are.”
“High ones, you mean gods?” Tyr asked. He wondered what gods Anu worshiped, Valkan had never spoken much of any deity. Every family in Haran had their 'patron', differing by region or vocation. Some races had their own gods, sharing others with humans. Tyr wasn't devout in any case, perhaps it was common knowledge if he'd bothered to go to church.
B'al chuckled. All of them but Giltras and the kneeling form of Valkan were smiling down at him amicably. “Gods... There are no gods – little brother. Bumi himself, lord of the closest thing to our god – the earth – has claimed no divinity as far as I am aware of. Kothar and Mako, we love them as well. Humans have these words, and the other races too, but we do not categorize them so universally. They are what they are, insisting that they bear the same title would be disrespectful, no?”
Tyr shrugged, there was some logic there. Nyx was a god, or goddess as she was mostly depicted as female, of rivers and streams. If 'she' was a god, then what was Veles? Giving equal face to rivers compared to the world spanning oceans might be comparable to calling a count a baron, or any of the other titles humans liked to use to rank and rate themselves.
Anu legend, those so old that none living could verify them, recalled when the gods of man had come to this world. Lifted the Anu from the muck and detritus of an uncivilized society and gifted them with wisdom. Great Tormund of the sky, Kothar of the forge, Agni of honor and challenge, Bumi and Freyja who would nourish and defend the earth respectively. They had taken these 'gods' as their own, before coming to understand that a higher being a god did not make.
After all, the celestial could be found in the smallest of things. Rocks and old stones, even the mountains themselves. Nature spirits of varying power and intelligence. Anu were a people of science, not superstition. They held to tradition, but had a wholly separate and more nuanced view on these things when compared to humans. All things could and would be explained, given time and a right mind put to task. According to B'al, they even 'killed' a few of these things they called nature spirits. Tending to the care of the good, and slaying the bad. All at the behest of their new divine pantheon.
Tyr listened to the council remark on these old tales, noting that they looked at him quite differently than before. Spoke to him with equity, even a bit of respect. In Anu society, there was no 'ruler'. Elders did not sit as tyrants over their kin, just advisors or those of such great skill or knowledge that they could serve their people as 'head men'.
Their gazes remained measured and calm until Valkan was called forth to testify against the violation of his banishment. Still they remained composed, allowing him to speak at length about his circumstances, until he presented them with the spellbreaker gauntlets. All stared at them in wonder, a few with a fear in them, and Giltras – who's eyes burned with a visceral avarice.
“You've made these, my son?” B'al, elder of the Gray Valley, stepped forward – granting honorific to Valkan for the first time. His only biological son in a life spanning near seven centuries. Nobody seemed affected by the breach of protocol either, for such a rigid people. It seemed that a decision had already been made.
“No, he did.” Valkan inclined his head toward Tyr. “Tyr Faeron, son of Jartor Faeron of the Harani tribe.”
“That's not entirely true.” The prince asserted. “Without the runes of your people, it would not have been possible. Valkan is as much responsible for these as I am, these artifacts were borne through partnership.”
“Humility is a fine trait.” B'al commented. “You do your sire proud.” As Valkan had, his father slotting an arm into one of the gauntlets, letting the pooled light coalescing in his hand burst into an impossibly complex construct of pure mana. An octagonal shape full of stars, twirling about within the geometric confines until it widened into a topographical map of the world – narrowing focus until the light reflected the very chamber they sat within in monochrome gold. “Incredible.”
The other members of the council were frozen in place. Anu possessed the core, but not the circuits in their body. They had been gifted with magic by great Mimir, to use in their own way – different from the humans. Yet, here B'al was, manifesting a class-5 mana phenomena with his own hands.
Silent. That's... At least a level six spell. But... Tyr's knowledge of divination was not much. It had seemed boring and didn't fit his vain aesthetic, but he'd read a little regarding it. Level six divination was capable of looking across the continent, but not the world itself. Level six... The furthest reach of magic obtainable by human mages. Only those like Solomon had peered into the 'realm of gods' – what lay beyond.
Level seven magic, at least, then. Tyr was sure that not even Octavian himself could equal Solomon in raw magic might, let alone this – which went presumably further.
No. It must be a projection of his memories or mind. The world is flat, everyone knows that. Tyr relaxed, he'd feared that he might have created a weapon of mass destruction by pure happenstance – but it would seem that his fears were unwarranted. After all, it would be insane if a single artifact of steel and copper could give rise to beings capable of using divine level magics.
“Can you replicate this?” Giltras asked, leaning forward to stare in astonishment at what he'd just seen. That which was impossible for Anu and their great disadvantage against the humans with their vast numbers and plentiful mages. Humans were not so great a threat by themselves, most were weak, fragile things and easily broken. But there were those among them beyond the Anu, forced their people to rely on artifacts should they wish to compete - and even still... With all of their achievements...
There would always be saints and heroes and archmages.
It was a truth. Magic was capable of infinite wonders, but also unlimited horrors. No Anu ever had solved this disparity in ability with technology alone. As great as their constructs could be, humans were too varied and industrious. Mana barriers and shields designed to counter any spell would be subverted by poison mist, or something else with a physical component. Not strong individually, but they made up for it with the supreme aptitude for finding out how to kill things in the most terrible way possible. Anu included. Crafting an artifact took far longer than casting a spell, and even their more violent minded kin were well aware that they'd never win in a war against man. Not then... But now...
“Yes.” B'al replied calmly. “I believe I can, but it will take time. Years to transcribe the...” Valkan made a rumbling sound deep in his through, interrupting his elder. Whatever they had communicated, B'al didn't falter – nodding in curt understanding. “But first, there's the matter of exchange. These do not belong to us. Have you taken possession of this artifact, my son?”
Valkan shook his head, leaning toward Tyr. First – he spoke in the common tongue, before two elders who had never learned the language glared pointedly at him. “Anu law is such that a keeper of knowledge or maker of things holds all ownership over an object in perpetuity. To share among Anu is the way, but it is not enforced nor required. However, to make a trade in the style of human commerce is practically unheard of. There are... Complexities to our law that run far deeper than your own.”
Tyr nodded, cutting him off. “You want to buy this from me? That's fine, I can always make another set.” He shrugged. If they were willing to offer compensation worth the materials and some beyond it, he didn't care. Every time he crafted an artifact, it'd get better. Making more could only benefit him in the long run, and overall – it had been an enjoyable experience. Perhaps the first hobby he'd ever found and truly enjoyed with no downside. He could only benefit from continuing to grow as a forger, both in magical control and in his ability to beat people to death.
“Buy them?” B'al shook his head. “Anu do not buy, nor do we participate in things mercantile. Capitalism can only bring about inequity, and is a source of great evil. We offer exchange, equally accessible to all citizens. There are no classes in Anu society as determined by wealth – only by need. It is impossible to quantify the value of such a unique artifact, so we will have to discuss this. We will try our best to give as much attention to human sensibilities as possible, so as to make an exchange less confusing.”
“I see...” He didn't, not really. Tyr was reminded of one frog in particular. Only slightly less aggressive in their moral code, less insistent theirs was the only way. He smiled widely, not at the impending migraine of some kind of trade negotiation with an alien species that didn't believe in trade, but did believe in trade...? He hoped the kappa were doing alright, in any event.
Anu must consider the act of bartering acceptable, but not the exchange of money...? It was an odd, backwards way to look at things in his opinion. Tyr didn't see what all the fuss was about, sure inequality would naturally spring from wealth but these elders seemed pretty well off themselves. Were they not more important to their clan than the shepherds? This apparent pseudo communism made no sense...
But what should I ask for?