The Call of GIANTS
Prologue: Today
“Sir?” a small voice breached the silence, a thin ray of light piercing through the antechamber, glancing off polished stone to rest at the foot of the rooms sole occupant swathed in the dark shadows leaking from the stone. “The priests are ready, and the people have gathered.” The young man spoke stepping into the doorway, his voice escaping as nothing more than a hoarse whisper, his fingers digging into the wooden frame, as slowly the shadows began to move a dark figure stepping forwards into the light.
He was short, his back hunched low, his body stooped over itself propped by a dark wooden cane. He hadn’t always been like this, face lined and hangered old scars hidden beneath wrinkled skin, his back bent by the burden of time and duty, still there was a certain charm in age hidden beneath all his infirmity. A soft smile was hidden beneath the mantle of a greying beard, light bouncing off the top of his head as he shuffled forwards, something in his dimming eyes beginning to burn, wisdom and experience had made fools of him often enough he now no longer minded playing the fool himself.
“Good lad, now call the herald; I am prepared.” Surai nodded, the boy taking half step back, his lips pulled back in a grimace as he rushed away from the doors and the darkened chamber and into the light. Edgar chuckled the old man shuffled forwards pressed his gnarled hands against the door and peering through the narrow gap left by the boys exit.
Summer was coming, the trees were beginning to bloom high above sprouting from the ruins, still the air felt cold, the endless throng gathered before the temple gates standing in hushed silence. It seemed on days like this even the birds refused to sing. Edgar grinned watching Surai run hand raised above his head waving to the herald signalling the ceremony to begin. He’d grown up to be a fine young man even if he was a little jumpy at times, Barta would have been proud; though knowing that old geezer he still would have found something to complain about. Edgar smiled watching as the young man slipped into the crowd at the far end of the courtyard, Zunnoth the herald launching into long winded tirade as the young man took his place behind the standard bearers slipping in among the delegates from their more distant allies.
“People of Ludarna, children of the eighteen tribes, we have gathered here today to witness the final rite of Edgar Farhand who upon the collapse of the Esmind tribe began his journey to...” It would probably take the man a good half hour to finish with all the formalities, although today it felt like he was pilling everything on extra thicj so who knew how long he was going to go on blathering. Edgar shook his head before straitening his robes for the millionth time.
No matter how many times he had to do it, it never got easier, public speaking was a pain in the arse.
He sighed swallowing what little pride he had left. He owed the people this much, after all if he was going to give up the job they deserved to know why. He smiled looking back to the several packages he had hung across his shoulders. A parting gift of sorts...
Gong!
Huh?
Ah that would be the signal; it seemed like even Zunnoth wasn’t in the mood for a lengthy speech today, that or he’d screwed up one of his lines and wanted to get it over with as quickly as possible. You could never tell with him.
Edgar grinned his fingers pausing briefly around the polished wood of his cane. A sudden wave of irritation bubbling up at the back of his head. If there was a day, he could do without it, it would be this one. He laughed to himself throwing back his head, pulling himself to his full height, he was still short make no mistakes much shorter than he had been in his youth but for once, for today, he looked strong. The old man stepped forwards throwing aside the doors and stepping out into the light of the mid-summer sun arms spread wide a ripple passing through the assembled crowd.
The standard bearers moved as one, arms swivelling, hauling up their flags in masses of blues, reds, and green, the flag of each tribe arrayed about the massive square as from the ruins high above petals began to fall dancing amongst the crowd. The ruins marked the boundaries of the square, a massive expanse of blackened earth beaten down and covered with heavy stone flags scavenged from the ruins themselves – Massive grey stone buildings reaching towards the heavens, overgrown with moss and vines and wildflowers sprouting from the stones.
But even as the petals fell and, in the distance, the steady beat of the drums began to rise followed by a chorus of chanters the scene maintained its eerie quiet. The people didn’t move, they didn’t rush forwards, didn’t laugh, didn’t sing or stamp their feet. Edgar swallowed hard marching forwards with what vigour he could muster. He swallowed hard. This was a little worse than usual.
The crowd had formed a path, a narrow walkway between the two sides leading towards the temple lying at the other end of the square. They stood in silence faces turned down towards the earth heads hung low, eyes half closed, as the music rose in pitch and fever occasionally broken by the ring of the gong from within the temple walls. In the end the journey was short, a gentle march right up to the very foot of the temple steps.
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The temple of The End, it was an apt name, though it failed to do the building itself justice. The building was bright, and colourful, more a beginning than an end.
It was white marble, from where the stone had been salvaged from no one could say, how much wealth and power lay within was a secret the temples caste of priests and priestesses had guarded for centuries. The building had been girded by doric columns rising up towards the ceiling supporting the eves of the building casting a cool shadow over the congregation of tribal chiefs, warlords, scholars and explorers who had been called from all across the land to take part in the conferral ceremony. Edgar paused smiling, a splash of blue and red cast across the dark green robes draped across his shoulders, the noon sun blasting through the fragile stained-glass dome crowning the temple and painting its steps in every shade of light to be found within the realms of nature.
He smiled to himself taking the next step and beginning his climb towards The End.
“Will the elects step forwards!” Zunnoth yelled voice booming across the crowd, long blonde hair swept back away from a pale face gaunt and narrow, his dark eyes fixed clear ahead stern and uncompromising. Edgar paused halfway up the stairs, where the crowd could see him best, the joints of his legs beginning to creak from the exertion.
He could have sworn there hadn’t been so many steps last time he’d paid the temple a visit.
Although that had been twenty years ago when his aids would still let him leave the palace without the royal retinue. He huffed watching as three figures stepped forwards, from the crowd of dignitaries clamouring at the temples edge, marching down the steps to meet him.
Each of them had been dressed in the ceremonial robes of their clan, one article of clothing taken from each six tribes that together constituted their land. Edgar squinted glancing at the face of each; a small smile curling the corners of his lips. He let out a low rolling laughter the world about him seeming to calm at the sound, as slowly he began to unsling the first of the packages resting across his back.
Right, now he just had to remember his lines.
“Today the Kingdom of Ludarna is no more! What power I possess let it be passed to these three champions gathered before me!” Edgar roared, straightening his back and tossing the first package, a long leather cylinder that rattled as it flew to the slender young man standing to his left, the mark of the boar painted in ink across his forehead at odds with the mess of flame red hair swept back away from his face. “To Jarma son of Imbada I relinquish my bow with which I begun the battle at the Red-Earth Pass.” The young startled reaching out to grasp the gift pulling it close towards his chest, ruffling the thick leathers he had been dressed in.
Edgar laughed hoisting the second gift; wrapped tight in a ream of dark red cloth and tossing it to the stocky boy resting to his far right. The boy seemed to be the youngest of the group carrying the mark of the wolf in red ochre across his cheek dressed in a deep red cloak which seemed strangely at odds with his figure.
“To Sodori-Munga chosen heir of Uro-Munga I grant my spear, a gift from the Northern Picks from the signing of the treaty of Unity and a sign of friendship with their druid.” Edgar smiled as the young man caught the weapon in hand his expression somewhat queasy as he glanced down towards the item.
The old man shook his head taking a moment to bask in the light, as he turned to the final figure of the trio, a young girl with muddy brown hair, the corners of her eyes red, her lips pulled back in a forced smile, dusty freckles covering her cheeks. “Finally to Diame, my daughter, born from the battle field I give my armour, I give my name and all my worldly possessions.” He smiled to the girl lowering the heavy bag from his shoulders and dropping it at her feet as he looked up to meet her gaze. She blinked for a moment before turning away, attempting to wipe the tears from her eyes. Sixteen years old and still such a child!
The trio bowed as one taking their gifts in hand the two young men stepping aside, faces stoic Diame remaining silent stood stock still staring at her feet. “Tears are no use now, isn’t that right my dear?.” Edgar sighed reaching forwards. The girl choked back a sob and stepped aside, leaving him standing there, arm reaching out into the sunlight, falling through empty air. He sighed closing his eyes and moving on. “Tears are no use now.” He sighed glancing up towards her as he carried on step by step.
Today was a good day, if he had to say goodbye, he was glad he was doing it on this day.
Edgar paused finally realising where it was he stood; his face turned up towards the light. He sighed twisting on his heel to face the gathered crowd that had swarmed into the square below and flowed out beyond into the narrow streets and alleys of the ruins. Some had even climbed the ancient towers to get a better view of the ceremony. For the first time in near two hundred years, every clan had gathered in one place, and this time they had gathered for peace.
“Today I have something important to share with you all!” He roared, a pulse seeming to push through the crowd as each head turned up grim and teary, heavy with concern and a hint of fear. “The kingdom of Ludarna is fallen!” he paused for a moment taking in a deep breath as stiffled murmurs rose from the populace. “And in its’ place I give you the Ludarna Alliance... You are good people, but for too long have we been hardened by war, a constant bitter conflict that has achieved nothing but sorrow and strife. Today that ends and it ends for good. We are not one people, but we are united, we have not one ruler, but we are strong. The rumours are true, in the past year my health has begun to decay and in the pattern of our ancestors I have made my pilgrimage to the temple of The End. Today is the day I leave you; today I say goodbye. Today, I am afraid... today is the day I die.”