A familiar smell of well-used parchment, precious ink, and aged books filled Fellaroth’s nose and lungs as he breathed it in deeply, remembering the time he had spent in this very study, working on new spells or weapons, much like the spear he now carried on his lower back. He paused on the threshold of the room and stared at the space that had remained completely untouched since the last time he had been there, a time that he could no longer recall.
The room was lined with shelves that were covered with books of every description and some of the smaller trinkets that he had picked up on his travels. In the middle of the room was a large spherical map table with a rim that appeared at a distance to be far larger than it needed to be. Off to the left was a table that was littered with all kinds of alloys of varying sizes and colours, along with an assortment of weapons in varying states of completion, such as daggers, swords, bows, and staffs. Off to the right was another table much like the last, however, this one contained an assortment of different kinds of chemicals, minerals, and ores that were clearly being studied and experimented with and on. Beyond the central map table was yet another large desk that was littered with writings, schematics, and diagrams that had all been written in Fellaroth’s own hand. At a glance and on closer inspection, this was clearly a room that Fellaroth had spent much of his time in.
“I don’t think I have ever seen so many different schools of study being conducted by a single person in a single space like this before! Whomever this Fellaroth was, he must have been a truly incredible person” said Calvin, marvelling at the room as he walked toward the central spherical table. “What in the world is this?” he asked, standing in front of a table that bore mountains, lakes, rivers, forests, coastlines, and even miniature cities.
“That’s actually exactly what it is, the world, or more accurately what was once Dyzanthia.” Answered Fellaroth without looking up from the weapons desk he had once spent so much time working at.
“But the cities on this map perfectly correlate with the cities of Xenendoria. I am quite familiar with the capital, and I am dead certain that this is The Capital… Hang on, is that rain?”
“You are correct on both accounts. That map is a magically produced, real-time representation of the real world, complete with weather patterns and if you were able to see far enough, you would even see a representation of every person in the kingdom where they are at this very moment. It's kind of like a God’s eye view of the world, or at least Dyzanthia or rather Xenendoria.”
“And you’re sure he wasn’t a God?” The shock in Riegert’s voice was plain as he looked closely at the map and was able to see dragons and wyverns flying across the land, he could even see whales and other sea beasts breaching the waters beyond the port cities.
“He wasn’t when he made this.” Answered Fellaroth before he could catch himself.
“You mean to say that he did eventually become a God?” asked Jackson, dropping the axe he had been examining, causing it to effortlessly wedge itself into the stone floor at his feet. With his eyes wide with shock and amazement he slid his foot back, wiggled his toes in his boot, just to be sure, before bending over, retrieving the axe, and sliding it into the holster on his back, in place of one of his own. “So, why don’t we know of him?”
“Fellaroth became a God several thousand years ago, over the millennia he became complacent and stopped performing his duties as a God, and in time his followers found new Gods to worship, relegating him to the history books, known in this world by only a few. It’s a sad tale really!” he answered, walking over to the main desk, proud to know that Jackson valued one of his weapons enough to want to keep it.
So many memories came back to him as he looked at the desk filled with papers, but one item in particular caught his attention as he looked over the desk, a small silver framed picture. Fellaroth ran his finger over the delicately engraved silver frame, feeling each carved leaf and flower petal beneath his fingertip before he picked up the picture and stared into the eyes of the woman who stared back at him.
“He’s just a proud man Fell, he’ll come around in time.” Said the beautiful brown-haired woman lying with her head in Fellaroth’s lap as they sat in the shade of a large flowering tree on top of a hill. She looked up at him with her piercing grey eyes, which always felt to Fellaroth to be looking straight into his soul, and said, “My father really does like you Fell, I mean how could he not! You’re so young and you have already brought peace to this world, you’ve united all of the tribes of mankind under a single banner and proved that we don’t need to fight each other to get what we want. He’s just afraid that marrying you will place my life in danger.”
“Could you honestly say with any certainty that he’s wrong Clair? On my path to creating this empire of mine, I destroyed a great many tribes, taking power away from their chiefs and subjugating their people. Your father’s tribe was one such tribe! I have created many enemies for myself in this world, some who might even be prepared to harm you just to get to me!”
“That’s a risk that I’m prepared to take Fell, if it means that I am able to spend the rest of my days with you. And you never took any power away from my father, he willingly placed his people in your hands, because he could see that you would be capable of leading his people to a better life than he would have been able to.”
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“It’s kind of you to say such things Clair, that’s just another reason why I love you so much.”
“Those words were not merely my own Fell. My father spoke words much like those on the night that he decided to submit to you as his king. Those are words that I suspect were spoken by many chiefs in many tribes across this land when they too decided to bend the knee. The only people that lost their lives to your campaign to create this empire were those who were evil and had no right to be leaders of men!”
“Evil by who’s standards? Who are we to decide how people should live? Who am I to decide how people should live?”
“You are The King of this land my love, a King that the people have willingly chosen to follow. I am one of those people you know, I love you with all of my heart and I want to stand at your side as you continue to grow this empire of yours, as you continue to show the people of this land that there is a better way to live!”
“I don’t deserve you, you know that? Here and now, I vow to love you, and only you for as long as I live, no matter what hardships may come, whether I am a king or a pauper, I shall always hold my love for you, and only you!” said Fellaroth, staring deeply into Clair’s stunning grey eyes.
“Hey, are you there Fell?” Calvin’s voice brought Fellaroth back to the present just as a single tear dropped from his cheek onto the delicate picture that he held with both hands.
“Sorry Calvin, what was that?”
“I was asking where you came to know all of this information about this Fellaroth, I mean I doubt you found it all in a single library.”
“That’s not important right now!” interrupted Riegert, having been the only one to see the tear fall from Fellaroth’s cheek. “We're here to find the map of the gates, aren’t we?”
“Um, yes, yes, you’re right!” answered Fellaroth, snapping fully back to reality. “It’s right in front of you actually!” he continued, pointing toward the spherical table that both Calvin and Riegert were standing in front of. “You see, if one knows how to properly use it, this map can show you a great many things.” He added, noting the way that Riegert now studied him. Fellaroth then waved a hand over the map causing a handful of towers of light to rise up across the map. Fellaroth grimaced as he inspected the map and saw far fewer towers of light than he had hoped. Had his castles been raided, had they been conquered or had they simply fallen prey to natural disasters? These were all questions that flowed through his mind before Jackson interrupted his thoughts.
“So, where exactly is Cruwshant? I can’t seem to make heads or tails of this map like this. Where’s North?”
“Here, this is Cruwshant, and I’m certain that there should be a tower of light rising from this very mountain! Which means that the next nearest gate will be… here in Ponderoth! It’s a few weeks' journey to Cruwshant from there, but that still beats the journey from here.”
“Alright, now that we know where the gate is, what do we do next?”
“Next, dear Calvin, we use the gate and travel to Ponderoth!”
“Fantastic, so where exactly is this gate?”
“Follow me, it’s in one of the rooftop gardens.” Answered Fellaroth, leading the others from the study. Fellaroth led the way down one corridor after another, and up several more staircases, yet again leading the way straight to their destination without any deviation or hesitation. Flinging the door to the garden open, Fellaroth looked back and saw yet again that Riegert was studying him far more closely than he’d like, he wasn’t yet ready for his companions to know the truth about his identity, but at this point, all he could do was try to be more aware of his own actions.
Calvin rushed past Fellaroth into the garden, eager to learn more about this mythical figure who had now captured his imagination. He made it no more than a few paces into the garden when he was brought to a complete halt, unable to believe the sight that lay before him. There in front of Calvin and the others was an enormous garden complete with trees, shrubs, and even a small pond that contained still living fish. At the far end of the garden and overlooking the rolling hills and the city of Pivoton off in the distance, was an enormous empty archway that stood nearly four storeys tall. “Is that it? Is that the gate?” stammered Calvin upon seeing it for the first time.
“Yes, that is the gate!”
The group walked as one through this bizarre garden, which they still found strange to think was located on a balcony high above the ground. They admired the flowers and blooming shrubs, looked into the pond, and watched the fish perform their hypnotic dance, and enjoyed the view of the world in the distance, as they slowly made their way over to the imposing structure that Fellaroth had told them would be a gate.
Now standing before the gate, unsure of what to think, the group turned their attention to Fellaroth, who stepped forward and up to a small alter, which was a simple plinth that had a bowl, filled with a clear liquid, carved into its top. He then placed both hands on either side of the bowl, closed his eyes and began to picture his destination. As the image of his destination grew clearer in his mind, the liquid in the bowl began to cloud over, slowly morphing into the image that was present in Fellaroth’s mind, the image of a gate in a rooftop garden, in a castle far to the North.
Calvin and the others approached behind Fellaroth as they saw that the empty archway had begun to fill with a strange murky cloud that seemed far more than just unnatural. Peering over Fellaroth’s shoulder, the others were astonished to witness the cloudy archway start to clear, revealing another garden and castle beyond. “It’s ready, we can now travel to Ponderoth.” Said Fellaroth at last.
“Is it safe?” asked Jackson, approaching the gate, looking behind it and then looking through it once again. “It’s eery to see a destination through a gate and know that it is miles away and yet also just mere steps away.”
“I can assure you, Jackson, it is quite safe. However, it will close once I step through, so all of you will have to go ahead of me. The journey will feel instantaneous though in reality, it will take a couple of seconds. Whatever you do, do not venture beyond that garden without me!”
“What’s wrong Fell, you sound like you’re afraid of what we might find on the other side?”
“That’s just it Riegert, I don’t exactly know what you’ll find on the other side.”
“Very well, Fell, we will wait for you just beyond the gate.” Said Riegert, drawing his sword and stepping through the gate.