Chapter 14
The inner keep of the kingdom of Chirock
Graclose
Graclose, the king of Chirock and the so-called lord of the mountains sat on his throne as his mind wandered. He took up the throne almost entirely, a mountain in his own right. His throne was a dark granite stone, rippled with veins of minerals throughout. The throne bore ornate images of Chirock’s past, of the mountains and the people who lived within. The back of the throne had the largest image, that of the great forge of Chirock, the heart of the mountain through which Chirock’s brilliant works were crafted. An attendant slowly approached Graclose, though his attention wasn’t drawn away from his idle thoughts. “Um… Excuse me, my lord,” the attendant mumbled out, “We have received a gift from another kingdom. They must be looking for our favor or for some new weapons, should I send the message to accept the gift?” Graclose raised his eyebrow and looked at the attendant. Graclose stood up and towered over the rather slight attendant. The attendant gazed up at his king, clearly surprised by just how large Graclose was. His skin was weathered from many years, though very pale from his time ruling from the inside of the mountain. His robes overflowed around him. They were lined with finest fur and laced with elegant gold thread from the finest looms; a clear display of his wealth and power. He raised his eyebrow and finally brought his gaze down upon the attendant in front of him. He rolled his wrists and neck, his body creaking and cracking like rubble being ground together.
After a moment his dry, gravelly voice came out. “Show me the offering,” he said succinctly. The attendant led him out of the throne room to a small balcony that hung upon the edge of the mountain, gazing down upon the fields below. Graclose took a deep breath in. The fresh air hit his lungs, it stung and left a burning feeling. He hated the fresh air, he greatly preferred the calm, stale air inside the mountain. Then again he preferred most things under the mountain. The sunlight bristled his skin as his eyes took a few moments to adjust to the lighting.
Graclose pulled a small spyglass from his robes and brought it to his eye. He peered through it and looked down at the gargantuan iron gates that formed the entrance into the mountain city of Chirock. A large cart sat filled to the very brim with gold, jewels, and other shiny trinkets. Whoever was looking to please the mountain was certainly on the right track. Graclose’s dry lips cracked into a smile, “Take the gift in and inspect it. I may not trust many to enter our fair city, but their gold is always welcome,” he said with a cackle. He put the spyglass back into his pocket as the attendant went back inside. Graclose stretched his arms and took one more look across the horizon. To anyone else, the sight across the landscape would have been breathtaking, but its’ beauty had been lost to Graclose a long, long time ago.
Graclose lumbered back through the doors into his throne room. The light shone brightly through, illuminating the bright alabaster stone pillars that lined the room. Graclose pulled the door shut behind him, returning the room to his preferred dim lighting. He saw the dust and cobwebs that hung high in the room. Common features inside the mountain due to the stale air and dust. They had never bothered Graclose. If anything every bit of stone, every bit of dust in the room was a comfort to him because they had scarcely changed since he took the throne ages ago. As anyone could tell you, change was never a worry in the city under the mountain, because its’ king abhorred the notion of change. Graclose learned some years ago that change could lead to pain and he never wanted to be hurt again. He plunked down onto his throne and began to doze off, dreaming of people and places from long ago, the same sad dreams that always haunted his mind.
After a short time, the silence of the throne room was broken as the doors were thrown wide. The attendant and several other men were marching into the room carrying the finest pieces of jewelry and gold from the gift. Two men, in particular, carried a large chest that seemed full based on the sheer exertion the men were undergoing moving it. Graclose slowly creaked open an eyelid to take a look at the men. “Yes, is this all?” he asked.
“No of course not my king,” the attendant said. “As you saw, there is much more that was given. We just assumed you would only want to see the finest items. I have to say this is all very high quality, I believe some of it even originates from her.”
Graclose chuckled, “It does seem rather odd to return gifts and goods back to the mountain, but at least if they are sending goods from Chirock it means they are of real value. There is no finer smith in the land after all.”
“Of course, my lord, the mountain’s forge is a gift from the gods,” the attendant said. He then motioned for the men with the chest to come forward. “I do believe this in particular would be of the most interest to you my lord. It is the likes of which I have never seen, a gift truly fit for a king such as yourself.”
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Graclose rose, greedily stepping toward the chest, “Well, the whole world should honor the great city of Chirock and its king with such things shouldn’t they?” The other men blindly nodded, clearly trying to please the king. “Open it, show me this great and unique treasure.” The attendant leaned down and opened the latch of the chest, he then stepped to the side so Graclose could see. Instead of the sort of riches Graclose assumed would be inside there was only one very large opaque crimson stone. Graclose took one look at the stone and braced himself in horror. His body leaned back and he wrapped his robe closely around his body. ‘Do you fools know what you’ve let inside the mountain?” he said with a trembling voice. “Get that out of here now!” Graclose yelled at the men, but it was far too late. His voice was drowned by a loud hissing sound as the stone began to dissolve into a thick red smoke in the air. Graclose threw his hands out and a graying shimmer covered his body as it went rigid and covered in a slate-like coating. As the smoke filled the air the other men breathed it in before they could react.
Graclose snapped his fingers and the doors of the throne room slammed themselves shut, creating an echo through the chamber. “My lord, are you ok? You look rather different?” the attendant asked.
Graclose took a step closer to the men as a deep frown formed across his lips. He moved normally, though his body appeared to be stone. “How many others have opened this chest? Where was it opened?” he asked sharply.
“Well, we opened it in the entrance of the keep my lord. At the usual spot for inspecting goods of course. After that we brought it straight up to you since it seemed so unique,” the attendant said. Concern streaked across his face as he watched Graclose stare at all of the men in the room. He began to feel light-headed, which only raised his concern.
‘So you opened it in the most public place in the keep?” Graclose said with great sadness in his words. He clearly hoped the answer was going to change, but the attendant didn’t respond, confirming Graclose’s fear. “I am so very sorry for what I must now do. You need to know that you have always been a truly faithful servant not only to me but to the whole of the mountain. It is only through the efforts of people like you that we can reach the summit of what Chirock can be.”
“My lord, I don’t understand, why are you apologizing, what have I done wrong?” the attendant said quickly. His pace began to quicken. Graclose looked him in the eyes and saw the telltale signs he was dreading. The attendant’s eyes had begun to turn red and his skin had gone pale. With a heavy heart, Graclose lashed out on massive stony hand around the attendant’s throat and crushed his windpipe. The attendant dropped lifelessly to the floor.
The other men looked on in horror before turning to run away from their king. Graclose kneeled to the ground and placed down an open palm. With a bright glow stone spears shot forth from the ground and skewered each of them men. Their bodies fell to the floor with a dull thud. Graclose took a deep breath and uttered the word “Voraterra” and the bodies sank into the stone floor of the room.
Graclose slammed the chest shut and shuffled despondently back to his throne. “This is why I have always feared the hand of outsiders,” he said. He snapped his fingers and a screen appeared in front of him. He cleared his throat and let his voice boom throughout the now-empty room. “People of Chirock!” he said waiting for a moment to let his voice gain the full attention of everyone inside the mountain. “An act of war has been committed on our sacred mountain. The bloody queen of Sacrotia has unleashed the blood plague upon us. We must prepare for battle quickly.” He took a moment, trying to remember the last time his people had been involved in any conflict. It was long enough ago that he was having a hard time recollecting which rulers had even been opposing him. “If you see anyone displaying symptoms, blood red eyes, bleeding from the eyes or mouth, do not touch them! Run from them and inform the nearest guard. If you are found to be harboring such an individual you will be cast out from the mountain. If you yourself are suffering these symptoms you must leave as quickly as you can for the greater good of Chirock. This plague can be easily contracted through contact deliberate or not. The mountain is only as strong as its’ base and we must all support our peak! We must persevere through this!” With that, the window hummed shut.
Graclose’s mind began to race with concerns. He had so many questions and only one certainty. “What does that mad little brat want with the mountain?” he questioned aloud. Emeria was behind this, but why? She had a large, well-outfitted army. This was a brazen move, even for her. She was aggressive, but she had never struck Graclose as reckless, which only made him more concerned. He had heard rumors of an attempt on Emeria’s life, but still, something didn’t add up. He was concerned for his people. For all his paranoia about those from the outside, he did care deeply for the people under his care. He knew of the death and chaos the blood plague had caused when it appeared in Draeton years ago and that was in an open environment. Chirock was unfortunately the perfect breeding ground for such a disease. His people were now scared, outnumbered, and out of practice. Panic would consume the mountain soon and Graclose knew that the thought of the plague was enough to weaken the might of his people. All of Chirock could be infected. The only safe person in the whole kingdom was the king and right now that meant scarce little to Graclose.