With the trees to block their sight, they saw only glimpses of the Wall of Khelvorias, though it blocked out the sun each morning. All forty feet of its height had been carved from dark stone, wrenched from the earth in quarries that became towns and cities. The slabs had been carved into an interlocking structure – when the rocks were big enough to facilitate it, that was. A thousand years and more it had taken, all the while humanity struggled to survive. The completion of the wall marked the first day of peace in that land.
They approached, already in its shadow, along that guideless path they'd diverted from at the babe's cries, and one of Khelvorias' great gates came into view between the trees that grew sparse and small in the darkness of its strength.
The colossal gate lay open. Inside Redmun could see an inner portcullis, and another reinforced wooden gate, leading into the realm of man. Around the entrance, the stone bulged in waves, slowly giving up dozens of feet worth of width as the wall climbed higher.
Standing inside as many as twenty guards blocked their paths, tower shields and pikes ready to stop and impale any charging beasts or hordes that might think to try their luck. Arches held their bows taut, ready to unleash enough arrows upon the two walking Possessors to fill their bodies and more.
Redmun and Jessa stopped ten feet before the wall of shields. The light of the day wouldn't reach that place until midday, leaving the place in twilight for hours on end. It was so much like Dark's Forest that Redmun shivered.
“Halt there!” a voice called from the other side of the stern-faced soldiers, though they had already stopped. There wasn't much to be seen behind those shields, painted just a tone darker than sky blue, with shiny metal trimmings and a sharp spike in the centre. Torches lined the walls of the interior, but the sun shining through the gaps of the far gate outshined it all. “If you have papers, throw them over!”
Redmun brought out his coin. Jessa had to take off her jacket to retrieve her own. For only a moment, she exposed that icy-white arm, and even in the shadows it seemed to glow, it was so pale. Strapped to the upper arm was a pouch, just for this purpose. She retrieved it, and the two of them tossed their most valuable possession over the soldier's heads.
Time passed, punctuated only by the ruffling of leaves as the Gate-Keeper examined their information. On each coin was a Possessor's name, place and date of birth, type of Possession, and the date and place it occurred. Redmun's coin told of the Dark's forest Possession, three months after Dark's Forest became brighter, and the Will-o-Wisp that possessed him. Redmun silently thanked his Master each time the forgery had to be used.
“Let 'em through,” that voice called. The line of soldiers parted, allowing the Possessors into the darkened interior. The Gate-Keeper was already walking up the steps at the side of the place, and Redmun and Jessa saw only his long, blue cloak and his dark, short-kept hair. He led them to a separate side-door through the middle portcullis, and gestured them through. “Welcome to Khelvorias,” he said, in a dull, monotonous voice, holding out their coins as they passed through the iron door. His eyes didn't glance their way at all, too focused on the closing gate.
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Sunlight sprayed through the opened inner gate like gold on a black canvas, lighting the interior even before it was fully opened. That almost blinding light resolved into a country. Khelvorias. From the wall the land fell into a steep, vast hillside levelling out as the miles continued on. Atop those hills, vineyards and orchards, ranches and farms, villages and windmills, all with luscious grass and the occasional wild, but Evil-less forest between. Red-slated homes marked each settlement against the lush green of the land.
The heavy gates slammed down behind them, rocking the ground, and they set off towards Travven, a small town halfway between the wall and the sea. The world around them was one they'd rarely experience. Children ran freely in the open air, folk walking in the open without fear of their own shadows. The blooming trees and the fields, preparing for crops, the sunshine and birds, all this and more passed them by on the slow, sunny descent into the lower reaches on Khelvorias. It put Redmun in mind of the pleasant times they'd spent with the Liabirs, the easy, careless wasting of time over a campfire. He kept his eyes on the road before him as much as he could, stewing in his misery.
The Evil had not spoken at all. Perhaps it was afraid of angering Redmun again – or rather, it thought it prudent not to, no doubt it was unafraid of his anger – or perhaps it had had its say and was content. Whatever the reason Redmun was happy to let it slumber. Just the thought of it sent bile crawling up his throat.
“How are you?” Jessa asked all of a sudden. Redmun raised his head, seeing once more the birds flying above them, hearing their shrill calls. He took a deep breath, tasting the air. He could almost taste the beginnings of pollen on the breeze. The soft, careless growth of flowers was something that had always fascinated him as a child. He grew up in places such as these, within the safety of the wall. Farmlands and vineyards and forests.
The memory of that night flashed back, painful and angry. He looked about at the scenery. “Alright,” Redmun replied, and found it had some truth.
Jessa turned over her shoulder, blank eyes looking at him. “Good,” she said with a nod, and that was that.
Slowly the houses of Travven filled their vision, replacing the warming countryside. At the centre of this town was the Possessor's Hall. The homes branched out in a web around it, and the mayoral office beside. Many of the clay-bricked buildings were run-down by city standards, but neither Redmun nor Jessa had seen their like in more than a year. As they passed further into the town, the dirt road transitioned into cobble, and the few-and-far-between, dirt-riddled farmers became clean-clothed town-dwellers. None of them gave the two any significant looks one way or the other, they merely continued their shopping, or commuting, as their daily lives demanded.
The Hall was built of older, cruder stone of a greyish color. The thing's structures and size set it somewhere between an old castle, and an old manor. A few of its features – like the pillars at the front – even gave it a church like feeling, though that was unintentional. Indeed, those pillars were purposefully unsymmetrical, with three on one side and two on the other. No-one quite knew why, but having at least one inconsistency or “mistake” on Possessor buildings had always been a tradition, as far back as Possessors had begun to exist. Perhaps a mocking of the perfection of the church.
They were both tired and dirty. Redmun would give anything to be anywhere else. In a nice soft bath, perhaps, or at a tavern. It was a rare thing for him to want to get drunk, but he felt the need then. Rose could very well be in the building before them – he could almost sense that she was, like a sickness rising at the back of his head – and he wanted nothing more than to be away.
At least, that was what most of him felt. The anger he'd been carrying since Lutmouth, since speaking to Gelstadt said something else entirely.
“Well,” Redmun said, feeling like talking for the first time in days. “Let's go meet mother, shall we?”