I sit with my hands clenched together and leaning so far forward on the chest that only a sliver keeps me from falling on my face. The tale bounces around in my head madly, thoughts of Jasper and his peril to the greatness and wonder of this entirely new place. These thoughts crush all other ideas and I move my mouth around like a puppet, unable to say anything. Eelian simply stands in front of me, swaying like a water fern in the current.
“I do not need a Mother-Dweller’s empathy to know that you enjoyed the tale,” Eelian says and lowers his arms. The man used his hands a lot when he told the tale.
“Where…” I begin then stop to work moisture into my dry mouth, “where did you hear that story?”
“Tale, prince, tale. I learned the tale from a book,” Eelian says with a proud smile, leaning close. “Would you like to hear another?”
“Yes!” I say with a little too much enthusiasm.
“Tomorrow!” Eelian says, and quickly turns and begins his unnatural walk toward the door.
“Wait, wait don’t go yet,” I say and groan when I stand, my leg having fallen asleep.
“There are many things to do and I will not be ordered around,” Eelian says as he continues walking.
“Okay, no more tales tonight. But at least explain something to me,” I say as I regain my balance.
Eelian stops and, without moving his feet, spins around with a soft scraping on the tiles. “Yes?”
“Did Jasper ever go home?”
Eelian laughs, the wheezy laugh of an old man, and slaps his knee.
“What? What?” I ask.
“The overall idea in things escapes you, does it?” he laughs. “No matter, I suppose it is difficult at first to not see beyond what is in front of your eyes.”
I blink.
“Yes, Millar, Jasper went home eventually. But he chose a life of travel with the Prophets before he laid down to rest,” Eelian explains.
“Maybe tomorrow you can tell me more about that?” I offer, the thought of hearing more about Jasper making me twitch my fingers with excitement.
“No. I have another tale in mind,” Eelian says, and turns around again.
“You must have a very big imagination to think of all this.”
Like the slow creaking of a rusty door into a dark room, Eelian turns around to face me with an angry glare. I’ve seen full-armored men face me with swords and war hammers bigger than me charging with absolute hate to kill me. I’ve faced a dozen men with spears who’d cornered me. But I’ve never been so frozen with fear as Eelian takes one slow, wavering step towards me.
“It’s true,” he says like the pounding of a forge hammer.
I gulp.
“Your fear only shows your disbelief. I can understand it difficult to comprehend,” Eelian says.
“It was just a sto… I mean, it was just a tale,” I say.
“It was a beginning!” Eelian roars, and I take a step back. “Jasper going to each and every planet was the foundation of aid that the Prophets built upon for millennia. He carved the path, he brought in new people, he courageously went when others timidly waited. This is a tale of history, not of enjoyment. And you must learn, Millar Grundarin, that history is all related.”
“I’ve never heard of the Sevens Prophets or anything like what you said before,” I say in a pleading way. Part of me is outraged that he would treat me like this. The other part is in terror that I might have upset him so much he won’t tell another tale.
“There are seven planets blessed with human life, Millar,” Eelian says slowly. “Seven planets that are separated by endless space and countless cultural differences. Your planet, Triumph, is not alone in the universe. The Sevens Prophets were given their power to fulfill what they see as humanity’s goal, to unite these seven planets peacefully so that people can interact together and create a unified and strong culture. They believe that our purpose in being given life and reason is this. To bring a planet’s people to another world without a war would surely be a great achievement.”
“Yeah, it would,” I say. Seven planets? We were created with a purpose?
Eelian nods, his expression unchanging and his body strangely still. “Tomorrow night, here. Prepare a pitcher of water and a cake of honey bread. Till then, sleep.” In one motion, Eelian turns and walks out the door.
The black and red wood slams shut and I jump from the sound. I shake my head furiously. Even though I just saw him leave, my mind seems to want me to imagine that he’d never been here, that he and the tale were just my imagination or parts of a dream. And in this dream-like state, I yawn and walk over to my bed.
Steel looks… different. The city, laid out and expanding in streets that all meet at right angles, is now covered with twinkling lights. High above the city, I seem to be floating. For about a second, I get incredibly excited at the thought of being able to fly, but what I see takes all of my concentration.
On the pointed tip of the Iron Palace flies the biggest flag in the world. Grundar’s flag is a rectangle with the top half dark blue and the bottom half dark green. In the middle is our symbol: a golden shield with a red sword in front of it. It flaps hypnotically in the wind. I hold onto the spike and touch that flag as I stare down into the city.
The lights, reds, greens, blues, yellows and purples of varying shades move around in a sea of color below. As I peer closer, I see a solitary light. It’s a little boy, standing and looking scared. He’s no older than six and is wearing the normal, mainstream clothes popular today. His hands are clasped over his mouth in fear as he scans the people around him, afraid to say something. The strangest thing is that his body glows a deep blue.
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I look around and realize that these colors are all coming from the people, and the citadel is not normal either. It takes me a few seconds as my head is a little fuzzy, but I realize that it’s not the Iron Palace at all; it’s The Pinnacle. The city begins to change.
The river docks become the grand docks of Nestte. The fields surrounding the walls become covered in Shalemite grain. The great palace of Sever stands on the East side of the city and Castle Morandus on the West. In a second, blinding flash they all disappear. The lights go out. The waterwheel stops turning. Darkness is all over the city and the citadel has returned to normal.
Thud! The scene shakes. Thud! Steel rocks as I feel like I’m going to fall from the power of the noise. I cling to the flag and it rips with my weight. Thud, thud! With each pounding, The Pinnacle shimmers and turns into the Iron Palace. Thud, Pinnacle. Thud, citadel. Thud…
“Millar!” a muffled shout wakes me up.
I sit up, looking around and blinking in confusion. The sunlight through the windows makes the sight of my room slowly come into focus.
“Millar what are you doing in there?” Len asks. His voice is on the other side of the door and he pounds on it again.
Shocked, I leap out of bed. My legs, however, are still in that near sleep state and don’t listen to the commands I give them. I stumble and fall on my hands as I crawl a few steps and then quickly regain control. Luckily, no one saw that embarrassing little tumble. I grab the door and hurl it open with a little bit too much conviction.
“Good morning,” I say happily, stretching my eyes to remove the crust of sleep.
Len stares at me for a few seconds. “Morning? It’s after ten, Millar,” he says. “The day’s almost gone. Your father has been asking for you and you missed your economics lesson.”
“Sander take me!” I curse, and run over to my cabinets and start throwing on clothes. Len picks up the ones that fall out as I jump around pulling on my pants. “I never should have stayed up so late with Eelian. That story was way too long.”
I hop around and buckle the pants, then pull off my white bed shirt. “You should have heard it, Len. It was all about this place called Sevens, and these people called Prophets,” I say. The last few words are muffled when I pull on my red cotton shirt.
“Millar, what are you talking about?” Len asks, holding my shoes. I take them.
“The story, I mean tale. It was great — where did you find this guy?”
Len blinks, then licks his lips and says, “I never found one.”
I drop the shoes. They clatter on the tiles. “Please tell me you’re joking,” I say.
Len shakes his head.
“Sevens, Jasper,” I whisper, my heart sinking. I can see the sun through my window. The Warrite Mountains loom far away, a powerful backdrop to this hardened city. I know they go all the way to the edge of the Gale Forest, and end at Sever’s massive wall that stretches to the Corr Ocean. Despite this enormous scale and beauty, the world suddenly seems infinitely smaller.
I blurt out in anger, “That worm-eating hiller! He snuck in here and told me lies!”
“Who was it, Millar? Did you recognize where he was from?” Len asks, concern all over his face as he whistles out the door, calling the guards.
I kick my chair across the room with a half-hearted shout. It rolls across the floor with a clatter as it crunches against the wall. “I ate it all up! I believed every word!” I shout.
“Millar,” Len says.
“I can’t believe that son of a Nardorish—”
“Millar.”
“What!”
“Getting angry about it is not going to help,” Len says as Beln and Keller walk in behind him, their plate armor clanking and their boots pounding on the tiles.
“No,” I say, and grab my sword, sheathed and hanging by my bed. I strap it on quickly and intently. “But finding that storyteller will. Beln, get my and Len’s horses ready.”
Beln salutes with a crunch of metal and hurries out the door.
“So we’re looking for the storyteller, then. While we’re at it would you like to search for the, ehem…” Len says, and coughs into his hand.
I stop as I put on my coat and try to figure out what Len is trying to tell me.
“You know, and bring the extra guards,” Len adds.
My hand rests by my side and I feel a slight wetness. The wound wasn’t much, not worth telling anyone about, but it must have opened up again. “Yes, that too,” I say as I quickly wipe the blood off my side.
We make our way across the city, searching for the old man with the strange walk, as well as the assassin. At first I thought finding a man with Eelian’s walk would be easy. But we’d been at it for over an hour and our search has come up with nothing, not even someone having seen the strange man. It would go faster if I got more help, but if I told my family about this they’d find out about the assassin too. I can’t have them worrying about me like that, not with the war so close.
The people of Steel City only make casual shows of happiness upon seeing me ride past, respecting that we both have things to do. I do my best to keep my eyes searching as I ride my horse, Hunter, but I can’t seem to concentrate.
I see a sudden flash of gold and quickly turn, thinking it’s a Gold Prophet walking around with a shield or something. It’s only a passing woman, though, wearing a thick golden necklace. I shake my head, disappointed with myself, and keep looking
“Did you hear me, Millar?” a voice asks.
I keep looking at a building wondering if it would be different if it was on Sevens. That one with the blue curtains in the second story window, if it had a few more levels I could see it in the newer section of the city. Or what would the citadel look like if…
“Millar, are you listening at all?” Len asks, knocking me out of my imagination.
“Yes,” I lie.
“Then answer me.”
“I, uh,” I say, having no idea what he asked me.
Len sighs. “Never mind.” He grips his reigns tighter and shifts his position noisily on his saddle.
“Len, don’t give me that, tell me,” I say as we approach Suldar’s Square. The market here is crowded and filled with all types of Grundarins. People clamor for goods and try to sell them. Shops and tables are set up all over and a steady stream of carts passes through the center. We stop and the soldiers look around with blank faces. Maybe I should have told them we were looking for an assassin and not just given them a description of the two men. No, rumors like that could jeopardize the army’s morale.
“I was wondering if you’ve been thinking of the war,” Len says, making me grunt with irritation. “You’ve been ignoring it since you got home. Last night it was all the guards wanted to talk about, and your father can’t wait for you to announce the date of the invasion. I barely got any sleep people kept coming to my door trying to get me to ask you when they’re leaving. So, have you decided yet?”
The people of the city walk around doing their daily activities. Merchants sell their goods in the square. Some walk toward the mills with a quick step, hurrying to get back from their lunch break. But even the sight of Mitchell’s Books, my favorite stand on the square, doesn’t cheer me up. The war against Nardor, and the task of taking their capitol city, Brill, sits in the back of my mind. These people want the war. Why can’t I just get on with it already?
Len, annoyed by my silence, walks his horse to the other side of Suldar’s monument. The monument is a metal statue of Suldar, standing in his regal armor with the King’s Helm tucked under his shoulder. Lying on the ground, cut down before him, is Uldar the Foolish of Sever. Suldar has his sword pointed down at the defeated leader of the second Severine invasion.
The monument has always intrigued and excited me because of what it depicts, and its strange color, but I can only look at it for a second before that familiar draining tug overwhelms my senses, forcing me to look away.
Mixed in with the black steel is a red metal. Dotted sporadically, it makes the monument shimmer in the light. Engraved into the marble base of the monument, in polished steel letters, is the name of the engagement it commemorates: The Crimson Charge.
The people give this monument a wide berth. It certainly earns prideful remarks from the people who often tell tales of the scene it depicts, and many paintings exist of it. But no one goes near it. No one looks at it too long. Still, I do my best, then look away again.
“You seem distraught this day. Why is this?” asks a raspy voice beside Hunter.
I freeze and check Len and the others. They’re still scanning the area, some on their horses and some walking around, staying far away from the monument. I look down and see a wisp of gray facial hair sticking out from under a brown hooded cloak. I should have spotted him sooner. No one dresses like that.
Eelian.