The short walk through the cobbled square, surrounded by the multitude of brightly coloured wooden timber-framed buildings, took both far longer than I had hoped and was far too quick for my liking.
Our strange procession consisted of the slender First Watcher with their wrap around leather mask and basic padded armour, the giant mountain of a man, Hallvard, and then us two squires made our way towards the Tower of Trials, that tall lighthouse like stone building sat in the middle of a large, for the city, plot of land.
Those who were in the square stopped what they were doing and watched as we passed.
The closer we got, the more Alis’ and Hallvard’s steps grew heavy. Unwittingly, my steps mirrored theirs.
Maybe it was fear, or the still air as the sea breeze had been blocked by the houses, but the whole atmosphere felt too heavy. The sweaty clothes under my armour clung to my body, resisting my efforts I made to reach the tower.
Hallvard almost imperceptibly, stumbled when he moved from the cobbles to the smooth black path. When I got close enough to see the black path, it surprised me to see something I had not expected to see.
Asphalt…
I rushed forward, letting go of Alis’ hand, and knelt down on the surface of the black path. After taking off my glove, I touched the surface. It was indeed many small stones bonded together with asphalt.
It was surprising to see, and feel, something which I had long thought I would never see again. Once I calmed down, I realised things were subtly wrong. As if it was almost correct, but not quite correct. Now I glanced up at the tower with new hope. Maybe in there would be something that would connect me further to my old home, the home I had left so that I could help Aggard.
Without pausing, I got up and rushed past Hallvard, having to step onto the snow, marring its pristine surface, so I could get past his bulk, who was still hesitating in reaching the tower’s entrance. The entrance was around the back of the tower and hidden from view by a wall of the same seemless grey stone the tower was made from.
Sat there, in the middle of the seamless stone wall, was a plastic uPVC door with a small frosted glass semi-circular double-glazed window. Well, not really.The sheen of the plastic was somewhat off and the surface of the window was perfectly flat. And the fact the plastic was pristinely clean and not covered with the usual dirt which came from city life. If that was to do with the fact this city’s air wasn’t as polluted as that of London, magic was involved, or the fact it was kept perfectly clean.
Not that I really cared.
What I really cared about was the fact that my hopes had been fulfilled. I grabbed the handle and pushed it down, before swinging the door open. Inside was a carpeted entrance way which resembled hallways from Britain. Right down to light fixtures and light bulbs, light switches, gloss painted doors, door mat, and edge to edge carpets leading right up the stairs. The carpets were patterned in an odd mix of crimson and black stripes. On the off white cream painted walls, giving out welcome comfortable warmth, were white gloss-painted radiators.
I smiled. This indeed felt both homely and strange at the same time.
Little details like there not being an internal slot for the mailbox, despite there being one on the outside. The radiator was perfectly flat, rather than bumpy like most radiators I’d known. The light fixtures being a strange mat material, rather than glossy plastic that they should’ve been. And one wall, along with the stairs, were rounded where it mirrored the outside wall.
As close as it was to a perfect replication of a hallway and though things were slightly disturbing, he did not feel like it should live up to the state of horror which Alis and Hallvard seem to hold it in.
Under the stairs was another door, curved like the stairs, which the First Watcher came out of. They had taken off their wrap around mask, so their pointed elven ears were obvious once again amongst their buzz cut flaxen hair. Even though I knew her to be a female their cute, pale unisex face made it hard to call her a her. So I went back to calling them, them.
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Still seeing someone real fantasy wear of padded armour and thick woollen leggings in the middle of a British hallway was disturbing. Adding greatly to the strangeness of the surroundings.
‘So you have seen something like this before then, Fallen Paladin.’
I nodded.
‘Indeed when I created the interior designs of this tower, along with that strange doorway, and the black crushed stone path I built it to welcome those who my ancestors saw coming to save us.
‘Little did I know it would be Aggard herself who would welcome you herself. So, please, Fallen Paladin, would you join with me.’
From behind me, Alis, her voice full of jealous anger, shouted, ‘he’s mine, entrusted to me by Aggard herself!’
Standing there between these two women, I realised just how complicated relationships could really be. At first, I was glad my relationship with Alis was going as it was. Right now, though, I realised that maybe she was becoming slightly dependant upon me. Though I had loved my sister, her dependance upon me had been really draining. So much so that I didn’t want it to happen again, no matter how beautiful the woman was.
Then there was what the First Watcher had said, for me to join with her. If not for Alis, I would’ve thought that maybe it meant just to spend time in company with. From the way Alis reacted, it probably meant something else.
I prayed to Aggard to give me wisdom and strength.
‘My Beloved Faithful,’ Aggard spoke to me, her voice warm and caring as aways. ‘There is much you cannot and have not seen. Your body is one of the few that has the ability to rebirth her regal bloodline.
‘My Daughter Celameth has spent centuries alone, waiting for one such as you.’
‘Daughter?’ I blurted out.
Suddenly I saw Aggard appear in front of me. Her power flowed through me, filling me with an intense peace. One which calmed down my worries about Alis and Celameth, the dangers of the Isles, and the lingering unease about what was to happen to me in the future.
With one of her hands she lifted her long hair from over her ears to show the same pointed ears that the First Watcher had.
‘Though those on the Surviving Lands see me as a goddess of Wisdom, Beauty, and Warfare, I was originally the patron goddess of the Anthal. They were folk who others claimed to be the wisest and most beautiful of all the races. In the Years of Invasion, the wisdom that had once been fair to watch was twisted to that of warfare and destruction.
‘Hard years followed. Most of my children perished. Others fell away from my protection. Now only Celameth and her few fellow Watchers remain as my children.’
As she spoke, it was clear to hear her pain, and feel it as it flowed out from her. Willing myself to do what I did that first, and last, time I touched her, the time I first saw her, I gave her a hug. Being able to touch her, to hug her, was a blessing for me. And I hoped for her too. The fact I felt a slight easing of the pain she that flowed from her to me.
My love for Alis did indeed pale compared to what I felt towards Aggard, that was true. Still the two were different kinds of love. For Aggard it was a familial love, not a romantic love. For Alis I burned with a different kind of passion. Aggard herself had told me I was to love Alis, so me loving them both, in different ways, was not incompatible.
The issue came as I was required to rebirth the Anthal. This meant the passion I held towards Alis needing to be shared with Celameth, of whom I had no feeling of love for.
‘Remember, Beloved Faithful, with the title provided to you by my Daughter you are now Anthal nobility. As such, you are permitted to marry whomever you so desire.’
With that, Aggard faded away. As she did, the warm feeling of her within my arms faded away.
When I was finally able to refocus upon the mock British hallway with its modern technologies, I saw Celameth, Alis, and Hallvard collapsed on the soft crimson and black stripped carpet.