The captain guided the procession off the road leading to Whitestone and into the forest of tents that surrounded it. There was a smell of mud, wood, and waste permeating the air. And Kaleb hadn’t expected any less with so many people pressed together.
It didn’t seem to be a proper military encampment either. Everything was haphazard, and many men were walking around without guidance or equipment. Kaleb assumed that this was just the initial phase and order would take its due when someone with authority started demanding it.
The company veered off to the side of the main gate of the city and circled slightly around the corner towers before finding a proper spot to camp. All the good hills close enough to the city had already been occupied, so they had to make do with empty flat ground.
As Kaleb got off the carriage after Master Beris, he heard Captain Simion yelling commands, and saw the regulars getting to work setting up camp. Eventually, the stocky Quill came toward them, shouting at some of his lieutenants to follow. “Master Beris,” he addressed the mage. “I’m still not certain who the high commander of this rabble will be.” He gestured at the other camps. “I will go to the City Council to inquire. If you would like to accompany me?”
“Certainly,” the Clayton said, joining the group that was forming around Captain Simion, made exclusively of his lieutenants.
The captain shouted something to the lone Gruck lieutenant that would stay in camp to take command, and then the group departed.
Kaleb stood, uncertain what to do. It seemed that he’d have some free time, not that he thought he’d have any freedom to go with it. He was quite sure that the lieutenant left in the camp was keeping an eye on him, even if he couldn’t catch the guy’s eyes on him.
An idea came to mind. He turned around, scanning the crowd for his friend. “Yezdriel!” He waved at the gigantic Quill who wasn’t difficult to find.
Yez waved back and walked toward him. “Good day to you, Kaleb,” he said. “Looking forward to a good rest after so many days on the road?”
Kaleb felt embarrassed about what he was about to request, considering the Quill had been traveling on foot for so long. He scratched his cheek. “Umm, I was actually going to ask you to accompany me into the city.”
“Ah, I see,” Yez said. “You’ve never been to Whitestone. You need a guide.”
“Not exactly,” Kaleb said, sighing. “I think those in command,” he glanced at the lieutenant, “would be more comfortable if I’m in a trusted member’s company when I leave camp.”
Yez frowned for a moment then clarity seemed to dawn on him. “True, true. After the incident, this would be appropriate.”
“Sorry to keep you away from well-deserved rest,” Kaleb said. He was feeling both apologetic and embarrassed about the whole affair, but it was the only way he could do something useful with his time. He could, of course, stay and practice with his spells, but he’d do that later anyway. Whitestone was one of the larger cities in the region, and its temple matched its size in grandeur. Perhaps he’d find someone there to answer some of his questions.
“Where do you wish to go then?” Yez asked.
“The Temple,” Kaleb said. “I have some questions, and I hope they have some answers.”
“Well,” Yez glanced at Kaleb's attire, which hadn’t changed much from when he’d left home. “I suggest that you put on the robe Master Beris loaned you. You’d find a better welcome if you look like a mage.”
Kaleb looked down at himself and remembered how much status mages enjoyed. He remembered how even the captain had to treat Master Beris nearly as an equal even in an environment where the Quill was top dog.
Miryodel stepped up beside Kaleb and Yez. “Forgive me,” he said. “But I overheard you talking about going into the city. I would like to accompany you if it wouldn’t trouble you.”
“It wouldn’t be any trouble, Miryodel,” Kaleb said, favoring the timid Quill with a smile. “But we’re going to the Temple. Do you share our destination?”
Miryodel shook his head. “No, but I’m going to a gathering of sorts, and it’s not far from the Temple itself.”
“Then the more the merrier,” Kaleb said, receiving brief confused looks from his companions. “We should move right away, while we still have light.” It was just a bit past noon, so there was still a lot of time before sunset, but Kaleb had learned that time could be overestimated.
Yez went to the lieutenant to inform him of their departure while Kaleb put on his robe, and then the three of them headed to the nearest gate.
Even if it wasn’t the main gate, Kaleb couldn’t help but admire the craftsmanship as they came upon it. It was a block of white that protruded slightly from the rest of the wall. Gigantic steel-banded wooden doors stood open behind well-armed guards. A dozen paces inside, after the wooden gate, there was a raised portcullis ready to descend and make a breacher’s life miserable, and beyond that another steel-banded gate that resembled the outermost one.
Kaleb and his company were received by the guards with smiles, even if they gave Kaleb perplexed stares as they struggled with the fact that a human was a mage. Yez was briefly searched for weapons. He’d wisely left his in the camp, and Kaleb realized that a city with so many armed men could turn into a powder keg if they were let inside with their weapons in its tight streets. From what he’d heard, the guilds that formed the Alliance themselves weren’t very united, let alone all the mercenaries that were hired. He saw the wisdom in forbidding weapons in the city proper.
They were let in soon after, and Kaleb walked under the menacingly hanging portcullis, eying the iron warily as his mind manufactured images of it descending to impale them. The shade under the gatehouse created an illusion of darkness until they came out of the other side, where he learned that Echelon wasn’t such a crowded city after all.
People were merged in a cacophony of noises and a fusion of bodies wrestling each other to find their way. Kaleb shuddered at the thought of children attempting to walk through this army of people. And they weren’t even at the center of the city. Yez took the front, forcing open a path through the packed street as Kaleb and Miryodel followed him.
The smell of sweat permeated Kaleb’s surroundings as he slipped through after his Quill friend, sometimes interrupted by the smell of baked goods mixing with the musk. The Temple which was within sight with its tall spires looked so far away considering the pace they were forced into. Yez would have to trample people if they wanted to go any faster.
They took multiple turns, and the streets got impossibly more packed until Yez had to start pushing people out of their way. And eventually, they made it to their destination, the large square in front of the Temple. Before departing, Miryodel promised to wait for them in the square once he was done so they could return together.
Kaleb approached the Temple with Yez, noting that its white stone was tinted blue, which was difficult to spot from a distance.
The gate of the Temple was as grand as the city’s even if not as large. The stone was hewn into an arch that topped a gate made from chocolate wood with beautiful carvings adorning it. There was a young Pioneer priest at the entrance flanked by servants from other races. He hailed them as they approached. “Greetings, travelers,” he said. “Do you wish to unburden your souls through prayer to the Risen, or be guided in your pursuits by a Speaker?”
Kaleb was stumped for a moment. He’d never really visited a Temple proper before. He’d appreciated the priests that had helped them when they’d first arrived, but he’d never seen a reason to go pray to gods he knew probably didn’t exist, not that he was sure of anything anymore. He’d come here through a portal after all. “Would a Speaker answer my questions about the…” he paused for a moment, “natural order?”
The young priest seemed taken aback. “I suppose if you’re looking for high knowledge. No one has as much of an abundance of it as the Speakers.” He gestured towards a box that was kept sheltered beside the gate. “Of course, the Temple would appreciate any contribution you could make as well, regardless of how little it may be.”
Kaleb almost chuckled. Though he did move toward the box as the priest kept his eyeballs locked on him. He deposited a single copper. If the Pioneer thought he could shame him into paying more, then he didn’t know what earth was like.
A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.
Yez dropped a couple of coins of his own into the box, and then they both walked into the Temple.
A short Gruck servant received them, and upon seeing a signal from the priest, he gestured in a certain direction for them. “This way, good sirs. A Speaker should be available soon.”
The servant led them to a small hall, where several people were waiting, and they were guided to a wide marble seat where they sat side to side.
Soon, they were led by the same servant to the doors of a chamber, and Kaleb noted that they’d skipped ahead of all their waiting peers. Perhaps the robe had indeed been a good idea.
They were ushered inside the chamber as the servant opened the doors. Inside sat the blue-skinned Pioneer Kaleb had expected. He was seated on a simple stool in the middle of the chamber, and light was bathing him from above. Kaleb glanced towards the ceiling where he saw the small glass dome that filled the role. He could see the sky, and thankfully the sun wasn’t too harsh today.
The Speaker gestured toward a marble seat that was opposite his simple stool, though the stool was higher than the marble, and so the Pioneer towered over Kaleb as he sat down, but it was different for his Quill companion who matched the Pioneer’s height even from a lower seat.
“How may the Temple guide you?” The Speaker said with a kindly countenance. He was bald like all the Pioneers were, his eyes were of a deeper shade of blue than his lightly colored skin, and he wore a soft smile on his face.
“I had some inquiries,” Kaleb said, “about our Arrival and others’.”
The Speaker nodded, gesturing for him to continue.
“Before we came here,” Kaleb said. “We discovered something. It was coming from space.” The Speaker tilted his head as if confused. So Kaleb clarified, “the sky.” The Pioneer nodded, understanding. Kaleb continued. “We didn’t understand what it was, but it destroyed anything we sent toward it, and even when we sent a manned mission, they didn’t make it back. It wouldn’t communicate with us. It just kept coming. I asked an acquaintance, and he told me that the Temple had informed his people once they’d first arrived that a great danger had been on the way and that the portals had been created by the Risen to save them from a final fate.”
The Speaker nodded, eying the ground then he raised his eyes, staring at Kaleb. “We heard word from your people about the approach of the Enemy. Most races in Refugium are at least a little disbelieving when we tell them that their worlds are no more, even if they believe in the Risen. I suppose people are always more inclined toward wishful thinking. Few have truly encountered the danger that we warn of, including your people and the Runed.”
Kaleb tried to look for signs of a charlatan in the Pioneer, but he couldn’t spot anything. What Enemy? He thought as he observed the Speaker. It would be difficult to dissect truth from legend if an institution as large as the Temple was built upon both, but he would take what he could get. Even legends could have a bit of truth in them. “What is this Enemy?” he asked. “We didn’t see anyone, only a cornucopia of colors and lights that we couldn’t decipher.”
“That is by nature its form,” The Speaker said. “The Enemy is indecipherable, un-understandable. Slow but final.”
“So what does it do?” Kaleb said. “Is our world simply gone? No more?”
“No,” The Speaker said, his tone apologetic. “But all that once lived on it is.”
So the enemy supposedly eliminated all life, but for what purpose? “Why though?” Kaleb said. “It doesn’t make sense. To simply annihilate everything. You said all living things would die to them. It would be understandable to annihilate humanity if they wanted to take over the world, but to kill everything…”
“The Tongue of The Risen once said,” The Speaker paused as if to let them experience the awe of just hearing the Pioneer’s title. Kaleb remembered that the Tongue was the equivalent of a Pope to the Temple. The Pioneer supposedly spoke for the Risen themselves. “The Enemy is not ambitious. It is not greedy. It does not think. It consumes to no end. It is the End.”
Kaleb contemplated the words for a few moments. Was this horseshit? He didn’t know, but at least someone was answering his questions, and he had many. “So they cannot be reasoned with?” he asked. All evidence back on earth had said so. No communication had been reciprocated, and all attempts to approach had ended with destruction.
The Speaker shook his head in response to his question. “The only way to survive the Enemy is,” he pointed at the ground, “to step onto this world. The land the Risen created for us. Refugium.”
How much of this is mythology? Kaleb wondered. So he asked a question that would hopefully nail the point. “So this Enemy. Is it the antithesis of the Risen? Is it the evil that stands against the Risen’s good?”
The Speaker guffawed, his body bobbing up and down with every laugh. “No, my young friend,” he said, and Kaleb couldn’t really tell how old he was and whether he was old enough to consider him young, but he assumed someone of his position would be older than the average priest. “The Enemy is not worthy of being called such a name for them. The Risen have, in their kindness, decided to aid us in surviving this calamity. The Enemy does not contend with them, nor do they with it. But they care about those who live, like us, and so they have created Refugium.”
Kaleb nodded. So the Enemy wasn’t the Risen’s devil. Still, he wasn’t sure how much of this was myth and how much was truth. Perhaps all of it was. “Speaker,” Kaleb said. “Before we came here, humanity had reached heights unseen, I believe, even for you when it came to exploring…the skies. This world, if it’s in the same universe, the same reality, then this Enemy can come here as well. What would we do then?” He observed the Speaker well as the man began to answer, because this question would clarify how much they really knew about reality itself, and whether they were simply making things up as they went. It would be difficult to judge fully based on one Speaker’s words, as he wasn’t the Tongue himself, but Speakers were supposed to be the many heralds of the Tongue.
“They will not,” he answered simply.
Kaleb frowned. They were encroaching on the territory of horseshit again. He didn’t like cryptic answers, but he’d expected to get some here whether he wanted them or not. “Why?”
The Speaker surprised him by not dismissing his question. Instead, he pointed up through the glass. Kaleb followed his finger and didn’t see much except the natural blue of Refugium’s sky. But then as he squinted, he could see the shadow of one of the moons even in the afternoon’s light. “The moon?” Kaleb asked. The Speaker didn’t answer. He kept his finger pointed at the smokey moon. Kaleb frowned again as he gazed at it then he perked up in surprise as a thought struck him. “The dragons?” he asked, his tone accidentally demanding.
The Speaker smiled and nodded.
“They prevent this…Enemy from coming?” Kaleb asked, incredulous.
The Speaker nodded again.
“How?” Kaleb said, narrowing his eyes.
“Through a wisdom of the Risen that mortals may not understand,” the Speaker said.
Holy-Speak for ‘I have no fucking idea’ Kaleb thought. He almost called the priest out for it, but he didn’t want to antagonize him, and he definitely didn’t want to make an enemy out of the Temple. It was one of the most powerful organizations in this world. “I see,” he said. “And this Enemy. It was the one that drove all the races to Refugium?”
“Yes,” the Speaker said. “It is the bane of all civilizations, and Refugium is their salvation.”
“And your race too?” Kaleb asked.
The Pioneer froze, then he relaxed and spoke, “The tale of the first Pioneers is the privilege of a few to tell. Regretfully, I’m not one of them.”
Kaleb frowned, a secret origin story for the race that monopolized a whole religion. That was new. “One last question, Speaker. Who are the Risen?”
The Speaker stared at him as if he was an idiot. Then he spoke slowly, as if to a child. “They are the ones that have ascended beyond all that could be perceived or understood.”
“Thank you,” Kaleb said, standing up and giving him a nod of gratitude.
The Speaker nodded back without getting up, and the servant opened the door from outside in a timely manner, as if he’d been spying on them.
Kaleb and a silent Yez walked out of the Temple. This trip hadn’t answered all his questions with perfect clarity, not that he’d expected it to, but it had at least given him an idea of the common belief here, and it had given him a surprise too. He gazed at the moon hidden in the sky. With how recent the latest sighting of dragons had been in Refugium, Kaleb doubted it was a myth. People also believe they could see one in the sky if they were fortunate enough. That meant that it happened on rare occasions. So were the dragons really responsible for the absence of the supposed Enemy from Refugium? Or were they just a convenient device for the priests to use in their divine narrative?
“Any thoughts?” Kaleb said, glancing at his friend.
“Not so many,” Yez said. “I knew much of what he said, but not all of it. I suppose coming with you today has taught me new things.”
“Let’s just hope they’re true,” Kaleb muttered under his breath, waving it off as Yez looked at him quizzically.
They didn’t find Miryodel waiting, so they decided to wait for him instead. The square was large enough that it wasn’t as horribly crowded as every street in the city, but it wasn’t empty either. People came and went, and some loitered around, including beggars. He noted many humans among the latter, and he spotted a fellow human being chased by guards before he bolted into one of the streets branching off the square.
It didn’t take long before they saw the Quill apprentice approaching them. However, he didn’t look calm but rather excited. His steps were quick as if he was straining not to break into a full run, and his eyes were wide as he spotted them from afar.
He was upon them in moments. “We must go. I cannot miss this.”
“Can’t miss what?” Kaleb asked as Yez pushed into the crowd in the street they’d come from. “What’s happening?”
“A duel,” Miryodel said with a hint of worship. He gazed at Kaleb’s face as if his eyes alone could deliver the message but he soon continued talking as he realized that they weren’t so articulate. “A duel between mages.”