Audite, O Populi

Antique Cantus Urbis

The boat that the party of young Aquillan men approached was unlike any they had seen before. The ship was rectangular in design and, at its rear, there was a cabin, its tiled roof swept up into peaked corners at the four ends and pinnacle. Its crimson sails were tied down and the symbol on it was indistinguishable. On board, a crew of Aequendar guards stood at attention while the rest of the crew worked to prepare the ship to sail.

Justinius marveled at the mysterious ship and wondered what other sights awaited him. The Aeuqendar messenger was currently speaking with Laurentius, who had become the de-facto leader of the party. As a member of the Senate, Justinius should have also been with him. He was not and it was by his own choice. He felt completely unready for the task of representing his country, one that he had remained locked away from and shunned. Once again, he wondered why he was here on this journey. His only desire was now before him…to see the wonders of the ancient Aequendar and revel in their past glories. And to hear that voice again…that voice of truth.

“Justinius?” He started in surprise and turned to see Lumina staring at him curiously. “You left there for a moment.”

He shook his head. “What do you mean?”

“Your eyes…they were very far away as you stared at the ship. It is magnificent. I have only ever seen their ships a few times in my life. They trade with Carxandria on occasion and send diplomats. We are one of the only countries that do business with them and keep a respectful distance from their borders. We remember.”

Justinius smiled at her dramatic statement, which begged his next question. “Remember what?”

Her pleased smile indicated her satisfaction at his curiosity. “Our connection to the Aequendar. They helped in building our great city and, it is said, we only survived the Great Cataclysm through their aid.”

“And now I go to see what they have been doing since that catastrophe,” said Justinius. “I’m equal parts looking forward to this and dreading it.”

“Do you trust them?”

He turned to her, concerned. “Do you? I hadn’t thought to distrust them. Their emissary sent a message that rang true and it was impossible to doubt his words. No harm will come to us while we are there.”

Lumina nodded. “Then I pray you will have a safe journey and return to the mainland. I will keep watch for Aequendar sails returning and will have dinner prepared for you.”

He turned to her, nodding in appreciation. He felt his arms hanging at his side. Why did they suddenly feel so awkward? He wanted to hug her goodbye but that felt too forward. She too seemed unsure what to do as she stared expectantly at him but made no move to leave or continue speaking. The silence stretched to agonizing moments for Justinius when a bell clanged onboard and the Aequendar representative called, “The wind and tide are with us. Come Aquillan guests, we must be away if we are to land by tomorrow morning.”

Justinius cleared his throat. “Time to go.”

She put her hand out for him. “Till your return.”

He took it and kissed it again. “Till then.”

He turned to board the strange craft, its large deck leaving plenty of space for the thirty men to walk about and find a place to rest. The Aequendar continued their work, ignoring the humans, as the crew prepared to set sail and the guards took positions at the cabin and across the deck. The plank was pulled up as Justinius stepped on board and he stood by the railing. Lumina stared up at him, smiling and waving. Perhaps the distance fooled him, but Justinius thought her smile looked sad.

He waved at her in return, smiling and leaning casually on the railing. He nearly fell as the boat was jolted away from the dock, pushed by the crew's poles. The oars extended and rotated the ship toward the harbor’s entrance. Justinius turned to see it, a natural entrance set into the coastline. A small island split the harbor in two and created a natural barrier from the sea. On the island, a tall lighthouse in the figure of a man was shaped from a solid block of stone and rose high into the air, only his back visible from the city. Justinius turned back to see Lumina was gone, disappearing into the crowds at the dock.

The harbor mouth was crammed with large trading ships exiting on the high tide. Their ship joined the convoy and made its way past the island. Justinius moved the ship's edge and stared up at the giant stone man holding a smoking brand aloft. It would smoke by day and hold a fire by night. The man’s face was weathered by time but still held its stern glare, his beard, and hair long, both hands holding a large firepot out to light the waters before him.

As it fell away, he looked back at the Aquillans on deck who were already complaining. Many were trying to cram into the cabin at the back of the ship. “Good riddance,” muttered Justinius.

A shadow fell over him and he looked up. The sails unfurled, the symbol of a sun within a notched circular shape now visible, caught the wind, and drove them forward. His gaze returned to the sea. They had turned north. The island of Salucienti lay somewhere before them, a day’s journey away, where more mysteries would meet them.

***

Lumina’s path led her back to the acropolis and the palace atop it. Her brother Orrin would be working there and she needed a word with him.

With her horse tied in the stables, she made her way up the many steps to the palace above. She was out of breath when she reached the top and leaned against a pillar for support. “Move along,” said a guard, waving his spear.

She frowned in annoyance and straightened up, continuing under the arches and into the palace. She moved to a courtyard filled with emissaries, officials, guards, and others there on business. There were long continuous buildings around the courtyard and a colonnade with a covering. The palace in front of her was the largest of the buildings, its double doors open to let in the fresh air.

Lumina wandered to a side building and through it to the other side. The outside of the acropolis was also ringed with a shaded promenade and she walked around it to a building near the back. A small courtyard in the back was filled with training dummies and straw targets, weapon stacks lining the single building at the corner of the acropolis platform. Inside, her brother was with a handful of men speaking softly.

“We don’t have permission for that,” said one of the men to Orrin. “The king will never allow the destruction of the olive gardens on the lake side. It supplies the palace.”

“It’s a weak point,” said Orrin. “The wall is lowest and they could move their forces into a fourth area of attack. The more places they have to invade, the thinner our forces will be stretched.”

“Nevertheless, he will not-”

“I will speak to the king,” said Orrin, waving his hand.

“What do you want?” a man asked Lumina, noticing her standing in the doorway.

Her brother turned to see her standing there and his scowl deepened. She spoke quickly before he could. “I came to speak with you, brother. Have you heard what is happening on Temple Hill?”

“Of course I have!” he snapped, “I have already called for an audience with the king but he is ignoring me till it suits him.”

“He will continue to do so if you make demands on his time,” said a man in a general's outfit: plumed helmet and deep blue cloak telling his position.

Orrin studied a map of Carxandria and the surrounding lands. “We cannot wait for Aquilla to be ready. If we wait for them to declare war, we will not be ready for an attack.”

“If we begin early, we risk them becoming frightened and attacking,” said the general. “The king sees no use in provoking them when peace can be established. That is why he sent your brother-”

“He didn’t send my brother,” snarled Orrin. “My brother went of his own accord under the guise of the king's command.”

Orrin sighed and turned to a servant standing in a corner of the room. “Tell the king I need to see him…immediately.”

“At once your lordship.”

“The rest of you, dismissed.”

The men around the table disbanded, taking Orrin’s arm then leaving. Lumina stood aside from the doorway and watched her brother sit reluctantly in a chair, head in his hands. When they were alone, she moved to his side and put a comforting hand on his arm. “Orrin?”

He looked up, shaking his head. “This is a mess. The defenses…our city…our faith. I don’t know what more I can do to convince people that we are in danger of extinction. They seem too wrapped up in their petty concerns and pleasures to care! These few men are the only ones who believe.”

“People believe,” said Lumina. “Our people are not gone yet. We will find a way to rally them. This defamation of our sacred temple cannot stand. People will raise an outcry over it.”

This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

Orrin stood from his seat and proceeded outside. “I need air.”

She followed him out onto the courtyard where he wandered to the edge of the acropolis. He leaned on a pillar and stared out at Lake Copiah and the countryside around the city. Small towns and private homes dotted the length of the lake and, in the distance, the Aquillan fort could be seen like a blemish on the landscape. He sighed, his shoulders sagging. “Our home has stood for a thousand years, Lumina. I curse my fate that I should be the one to see its fall.”

“It is not a foregone conclusion,” said Lumina. “Our brother is seeking a diplomatic solution. And I have seen them…they are not all intent on our destruction.”

He threw a withering glance at her. “Even if true, they are too few to count on. As for our brother, I do not doubt his abilities but it was Father that truly kept peace. After he was murdered…well…our brother has tried to fill his role. I do not doubt his commitment-”

“Then say no more,” said Lumina, taking her brother's arm. “But let us hope and pray.”

“What good is that?!” he said. “We cannot even pray in our temple today!”

“Then I will pray in the wilderness!” said Lumina, steel in her voice. “In my home. In the quiet of my heart.”

He gave no response but simply looked away. It was some moments before he whispered, “If only I could believe in hope.”

The silence continued as Lumina put her arms around his shoulders as best she could. The moment didn’t last long when the sound of marching boots filled the air and they turned to see a troop of guards exit the palace and spread out, making room for the king who emerged with another man. The king hardly cut a commanding figure. He was rather short, had a gut, and wasn’t even completely dressed but had thrown on a sleeveless tunic that didn’t match the jewel-encrusted band of metal upon his head. He shuffled across the courtyard at a sluggish pace.

“Ah, Orrin, still at work I see. When will you learn to take some time for enjoyment? You might actually have a wife by now if you did.”

“Men like you and I have too much to do I suppose,” said Orrin, eyebrow raised but face in a controlled frown.

The king coughed, taking a moment to understand his response. “Uh…yes…quite. Don’t be rude, greet the Aquillan diplomat.”

Orrin nodded to the man beside the king. “Conditius.”

“Catonus Conditius,” replied the Aquillan diplomat. “I hope you are well, Orrin. I hear you had a meeting with the officers of the watch today.”

The question hung clear in the air. Orrin didn’t rise to the bait and shrugged. “Simple procedure. I need to ensure the watch is keeping the peace about the city and surrounding lands.”

“Of course,” said Catonus.

“Why have you so insolently called me here?” asked the king, scratching his backside. “I’ve already told you that I won’t be increasing your pay.”

“Not my pay! The fund for…”

Orrin stopped, glancing at the Aquillan diplomat. Lumina sensed, just like Orrin, that the king had purposefully brought the man here to avoid the conversation her brother wished to have. She kept her face neutral but was seething within.

Orrin finally seemed to control himself and said, “It isn’t about that my liege. I wish to discuss your reasons for letting that cult, the followers of the Lord of Change, to occupy our temple, our sacred mount, and…parade across it.”

“Simple,” said the king, “There is no place for them here that fits their requirements. They needed a garden setting that was within the city limits and large enough to fit several hundred people.”

“But that is our house of worship,” said Orrin, his voice quivering with obvious anger. “We worship the Cause there! How could you give it to these cultists to defile?”

“Oh, please,” said the king, shaking his head. “It’s just a hill with a building and not a very fine one at that. Besides, we need to be more accepting of other religions. We accept all trade partners, it seems only proper we accept their beliefs as well. We don’t have to agree, just let them do what they do and you can worship there later.”

Orrin stood tall, his commander's voice ringing out. “If I may speak plainly, my liege, they have no place here and should be removed.”

The king seemed flustered at this act and he sputtered for several moments before regaining his composure. “Well…that's why I rule and your line failed! I compromise and show compassion while you are a cruel, unchanging man. Speak to me like that again, commander and I will have you thrown from the acropolis…on the cliff side.”

He nodded in satisfaction, his head bobbing and his expression one of self-satisfied pleasure. “If there is nothing else, commander, I have things to do. Like you said, we are busy men.” Noticing Lumina, he added, “She can join us if she wishes.”

Lumina shook her head but Orrin spoke for her. “She has things to attend to at home.”

The king scowled at him. “Of course, she can speak for herself though.”

Lumina did so. “Thank you my liege, but I must depart.”

She turned away, leaving the scene and her brother to deal with the king.

***

Justinius slept under the stars that night. He thought he could hear a song running through his mind, sailing from the stars far away, but he couldn’t be sure. It wasn’t until the third sighting that he was sure of it. There were Fatae, glowing ever so slightly, flying about the sails and the top of the mast. While most of the nobles were inside, Ardellius joined him outside to lie down. “What are you doing?”

“Just…looking at the stars.” he smiled at the thought of his next words, “And listening to them.”

“What? Did you drink tonight? Where did you get it? I want some.”

“No, just listen.”

They did, hearing the sound of water crashing on the side of the ship and, ever so faintly, the sound of the Fatae singing high above. It seemed, to Justinius, that the stars were indeed singing. It was a soft melody, wistful and somber but tinged with hope. “What is that?” asked Ardellius, fear in his voice.

“It's the stars.”

Ardellius looked at him and saw his smile. “What is it? Are the Aequendar singing?”

He looked around but Justinius shook his head. “Look up. See if you can spot them.”

Ardellius lay next to him, squinting at the sky. “Are you joking with me?”

“It’s Fatae.”

“It's what?”

“You’ll see them if you look.”

Ardellius stared up before finally gasping. “What was that? A flashing light?”

“A Fatae,” said Justinius. “Surely you heard of them.”

“They are real?”

Justinius gave him a sarcastic smile and then looked back up to the sky. “Where we are going my friend, I am keeping an open mind to the realities of our world.”

By dawn, the island of Salucienti could be seen. Most of the island seemed to be a large mountain in its center with jungle and beaches surrounding its coastline. It didn’t seem clear where the Aequendar city could be. A single river flowed from the mountain and the ship appeared to be heading for it. The oars came out and began to paddle in rhythmic strokes up the river, toward the mountain.

Ardellius stood beside Justinius, staring at the mountain. “Do you suppose the city is…in the mountain?”

“I think so,” said Justinius, pointing to a tower near its peak.

“How is that possible? Such feats of building are…oh right, impossible is suspended for the time being.”

Justinius smiled at his friend as their ship approached a cave opening in the mountain. “Exactly my friend. I suggest we enjoy the ride.”

The cave entrance was tall enough for the mast to fit through it. The sun disappeared and they were plunged into a darkness lit only by torches. Justinius felt a shiver run up his spine as water dripped on his head from above and he looked about. The cave was without decoration, and pockmarked with water erosion. The light from the entrance soon faded and he began to feel claustrophobic. The mutters of the Aquillans could be heard around him but the Aequendar appeared unfazed.

The drum beats ceased and the ship ground to a halt. There was a slab of stone in front of them blocking their way and they were trapped, unable to turn the boat around. Justinius knew this couldn’t be right and waited with bated breath as the mutters of his companions grew louder. “What is this?” asked Ardellius.

Before Justinius could respond, there was a harsh grinding sound of stone on stone and then the sound of running water. Nothing else seemed to happen. Justinius looked over the side of the ship from his position at the front and water bubbled up from beside the ship. Ardellius joined him at the rail and they stared at one another, confused.

This continued for some time till the grinding sound came again and then the wall of stone in front of them opened inward, revealing a dark expanse of more water ahead. The beat of drums continued and the boat entered the new body of water. Another wall of stone stood in front of them and the drums ceased, the oars stopping. “What is this insanity?” asked Ardellius.

The sound of grinding stone came from behind them and Justinius saw the slab of stone behind them slide back into place, trapping them in utter darkness. The cries of panicked Aquillans rose around them but Justinius was beyond words. Though panic rose in his throat, he knew there was nothing to fear. If the Aequendar were without fear he needn't be either. He stared ahead, expecting the slab of stone to open.

Another grinding sound and the sound of rushing water. He looked over the edge to see the water level rising and the ship rising with it. He looked in wonder at Ardellius. “It’s…raising the ship.”

Sure enough, they could feel the ship bobbing as it was carried higher by the rising water. Justinius looked up but couldn’t see the ceiling of the cave past the dancing lights of the Fatae. He gripped the rails of the railing and watched. They entered a second cove of water, then a third, each time rising higher to meet the waterline of a higher trench. The technology baffled him. At the third cove, the stone slab opened to reveal a tunnel that led to a beam of light.

The oars began moving and the light grew closer. Justinius noticed the sides of the cave were no longer pockmarked holes of water damage but stone fashioned into pillars. In alcoves, statues stood as tall as a building that depicted Aequendar in various attire. Some had armor and weapons, some were simple men in simple clothing, and others solemn kings with fine clothes and crowns to adorn them. All the while, the light grew brighter and brighter till it was nearly blinding. When they emerged from the cave, it was an entirely new world.

They were in a crater, a lake at its center. On all sides, surrounding the lake, was a city of magnificent size. Towers rose about them but unlike any Justinius had seen before. They were tier, square, and had rounded pinnacles. The buildings were a mixture of square blocks stacked atop one another and growing smaller as they got higher or rounded structures with domed tops. Arches and bridges crossed over gaps in the mountain to connect parts of the city while streets ran in circular levels higher and higher. The paths, bridges, and indeed many of the buildings were all lined with statues of a bell-like shape. The structures appeared very old and in a style unlike any seen by men since ancient days.

The ship crossed the lake, passing many docks and piers, and a large structure that took up a center section of the city. It stood separated from the mountain, a large circular tower rising above all the buildings save the highest towers that sat, or in some cases emerged, from the heights of the mountain. Its circular tower was connected at the back by an addition to the building which extended into the mountain. It was so massive it dwarfed anything that had existed in Carxandria. Justinius felt his mind struggling to grasp the magnificence of it all. That he, of all men, should see it was beyond fortunate.

The boat curved around the lake, coming in with the dock on its side. It lurched to a halt as poles caught the wharf and ropes were thrown to secure it by Aequendar on land. The gangplank was lowered and a figure in fine robes of green and gold walked down the pier to meet them. He stopped at the bottom, scanning the faces of the Aquillan men who were peering about them in wonder, and bowed.

“Welcome, honored guests,” said Falehiem.