The Presence (G of R)

Chapter Thirty

Gathering of Rain

They dispersed after the morning’s revelations, needing time away from discussion, debate and information, from knowledge. Thus, singly and in pairs, they dispersed.

It was not easy to put the game aside. Destiny’s noose tightened around all of them in one way or another and they would not emerge unchanged.

Kylan and Kisha disappeared together in search of herbs and potions to restock Kylan’s pouch. He was forced to throw what he had away; seawater ruined it. Kisha took the opportunity to find a hat to protect her northern skin against the southern sun. Both were amazed to discover that the coin for north and south had not changed. The few dians she had - the north relying on barter rather than money- could be happily spent in Actar. The two had fun amid the stalls and tiny shops, and laughed a great deal in those hours between. In quieter moments Kylan looked at this woman who had turned his life upside down and inside out. He asked her to give them all a chance. He did not say it, but he did not want to lose her, not yet. He did not say it, but she heard him anyway and smiled secretly. She prayed for the opportunity to discover something solid together. Kylan was a wonderful man; her father would have approved.

Aven dragged a chair onto the balcony and there he fell asleep, his thoughts swirling in the unconscious over Averroes, awaiting her return, praying for it. Taranis had promised to fetch her when night fell, signature be damned. The game was at a critical stage. He also had confusing thoughts about Rain. Always he had been able to read between the lines, see through and behind temper tantrums, into his argumentative nature, and now Rain was elusive. He worried and his dreams were not soothing. Mordan stayed with him, also falling asleep. Mordan, for his part, slept soundly.

Rain vanished alone, to find a moneylender…and to think.

His thoughts were not always pleasant.

Taranis told nobody where he was going.

His thoughts were far from soothing also.

Llettynn and Belun made it to the edge of town without being seen and there, far from prying eyes, took to the skies.

Glint went to a secluded eatery and, having explained to the credulous proprietor about the new skin dye he was testing for a fancy-dress party, proceeded to taste everything that came out of the kitchens. He placed a huge order to take back with him, much to the proprietor’s delight. How he would pay was anyone’s guess. Glint did not give the game thought. He already lived with destiny; he had seen many changes come and go- this was another and would play out one way or the other.

Samson and Cristi went sightseeing, entranced by the southern ways. They quietly discussed what they had heard. As the two youngest they often felt unable to contribute and thus forged strength simply by admitting their fears to each other.

Saska did not know what to do with her time and when McSee offered to take her out to the reef-lake, she readily agreed. They hired a small boat and sailed the heat of the day away amid cool ocean breezes. Neither mentioned the irony of being on calm water after so close a shave with death. McSee did ask about the Sylmer, but she did not want to talk about it and turned the flow of their conversation to his boyhood adventures, often laughing with delight. McSee had shadows in his eyes- did they not all have those now?- but he was interesting when not on the subject of magic and knew how to entertain.

Sometime during the day Rain reported the Calloway lost at sea to the local authorities, explaining the circumstances as best he could. He asked that word be sent to Betty at the Luannesse.

Night fell, and brought with it a presence.

Not the noise, the music, the colour, the revellers, although it brought that too.

McSee and Saska had just moored, pleasantly tired and absolutely ravenous, when they felt the air heave and shimmer. They stared at each other wordlessly and then began to run.

Samson and Cristi, laden with packages, stopped and looked at each other, feeling the sinister vibrations in the air, under their feet…they dared not move.

Glint was halfway up the stairs bearing a large tray covered with edible goodies, payment satisfactorily concluded, when the air became so dense he could barely breathe. He propped himself and the tray against the wall and waited it out.

Llettynn and Belun endured much enquiry as to where had they got those incredible wings, when they experienced a heave and suction, a tearing through the fabric that was air.

Aven woke up clutching at his throat, and Mordan prostrated himself on the floor in irrational fear.

Kisha and Kylan stumbled on the cobbles of a square and clutched each other, slowly looking skyward.

Rain rounded the final corner to their residence, when the air thickened and congealed about him. Taranis, coming from the other side, stood dead still, staring at Rain, but not seeing him, his throat constricted.

They were not alone in the terrifying experience.

The noise of Actar subsided as pleasure-seekers froze or fell or held onto each other. They clamped about trees, stuck to walls, cowered into benches, all in consternation, and eventually they too looked skyward, expecting a severe thunderstorm after the heat of the day, after heat of weeks. What else could possibly thicken air pressure dramatically…if not the precursor to an epic storm?

Consternation turned to fear when they saw nothing but darkening sky with stars winking brightly. The moon had not yet risen. Everything appeared normal…while the air grew ever thicker, heaved, shimmered, moved. Fear grew apace, yet not a body stirred, nor uttered a sound. Actar froze.

Breathless waiting.

Suffocating. Airless.

And then it was over.

The would-be revellers dispersed, the night’s pleasures over before they had properly begun. Fear remained tangible. The rumours about Farinwood, Infinity, strange glows and changeling children resurfaced, although words were barely shared. Now this, they seemed to say with their eyes.

That night, Valarians- for the strangeness was widespread- in private and in hushed tones, speculated about the coming war, darklings, and recalled the horror of Drasso and Infinity. The precedent for evil confrontation already existed in Valarian psyche, and they were awakening to the fact that their beloved world was changing beyond their control. Forces were at work. The sages among them said it was long overdue, but not even they understood the meaning of their words.

One by one they rushed back; Glint first with the food, having been nearest, and Saska and McSee last, having been the furthest.

‘What’s happening?’ Cristi asked, her voice quavering. She twisted the cord at her waist.

‘Shh, it’s over now,’ Samson murmured, comforting her in his arms.

‘No, I’m afraid it has just begun,’ Rain stated. He stood just within the door, his fair hair a tangled mess, grey eyes faraway. ‘What we just experienced is a signature. When a great feat of magic is in operation, there is a signature that can be felt by all magic-users. This one was the mother of a feat if everyone felt it.’

Aven said from where he sat rumpled on the couch: ‘Something like a forgotten lord readying for a revealing?’

There was dead silence.

Taranis said it. ‘Vannis.’

Rain nodded, still looking into far distances. ‘Yes, the Vallorin.’ His hand strayed to the Medaillon on his chest, and Taranis moved to thrust that questing hand aside.

‘No, we don’t know enough. It’s his.’

Focusing briefly, Rain brought his gaze to Taranis, eyes grey and so like his own, and then unfocused again, and his hand fell away. Taranis glanced over at Llettynn, who motioned for him to leave the mortal alone, to see what came next. Taranis stepped reluctantly away.

‘Vannis is almost free,’ Rain said in a disembodied voice. ‘He has been imprisoned for a long time, now seeks release. Averroes set him on that path a few minutes ago. That is what we experienced. She believes it a dream, and took a dream into new levels out of curiosity. He is beautiful, looks like us, golden skin…a dragon tattoo on his chest. His eyes are…mostly yellow, but changeable. He needs the Medaillon to complete the release, to remove the final barrier to his freedom…she was meant to have it, she is the bearer he was waiting for, she is the Changeling. He is Vannis, Vallorin of the Valleur, he tells her, he is furious, so close, thwarted…Averroes is…there is danger for her…’

Aven rose, sat down, and then rose again. He glared accusingly at Taranis, who was too intent on Rain to notice.

He is very good, Belun thought, his eyes also on Rain.

‘You’re in danger also!’ Taranis blurted, gripping Rain’s arm. ‘You have the Medaillon he needs. Pull back before he sees you!’ Taranis willed the man away, praying he would hear, and, to his relief, Rain focused on him. ‘Thank the Lady,’ Taranis muttered, and then said without turning away: ‘Belun, call the Eagles, all of them, to hell with signatures…and tell them to find Averroes, tell them to bring her here. We need to get her into protection immediately.’

Aven slumped as Belun began communicating with the Dome.

Taranis gave his undivided attention to Rain. He still held the man’s arm in a death-grip; with a muttered apology, he let go. ‘You’re more powerful than you know, Rain of the Mantle. You are now the key to his freedom, and he is going to sense that soon. You will be his main target.’

‘He incarcerated himself, Taranis,’ Rain said. ‘Deliberately, for this time.’

‘That’s a bloody long time to stew through,’ Glint muttered.

‘Do not use the Medaillon again,’ Taranis said. And then he frowned, realising Rain had not, in fact, touched it. More powerful than any of us suspect even now and that could be as dangerous as a freed, angry Vallorin. Breathing out, he retreated into the room, carefully schooling his face.

Llettynn sucked at his teeth, as expressionless as ever.

Saska stared at Rain, wondering who he was, what he was, and where he was going. She needed to know. She desperately desired to know.

And Rain- he withdrew. Inwardly he asked the same questions and that placed him on par with those around him, but his answers, if he had the courage to acknowledge them, put him somewhere else entirely. His time was approaching.

Destiny would force his hand.

****

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Well of Crystal Sound

(...this excerpt may be giving too much away, but love this legend in Tales...)

‘Back in Valaris’ beginning, once it became a habitable world, there was no sentient life. The humans of today did not evolve here; they came from faraway worlds, much the same as happened elsewhere. One starship came and saw it was good, and then there was another and another, a familiar tale. This was and is a paradise world and the humans who settled were happy, but, being human, being sentient, they were selfish also- another familiar tale- and denied entry to other races. Now, around the time that selfish mindset began, a space warp materialised in the heavens above that made it impossible to travel the stars again, the same warp still in position today. It also, of course, denied entry to other settlers, and put an end to other races interfering with the humans already here. Thus, without any great effort, the humans got their wish, and the Valarians were born as a people apart. There were enough settlers to work this new land, but don’t they say ‘be careful of what you wish for’? They no longer needed their grounded starships, and, as time passed, these fell into disrepair and along with it all technology. These things were literally allowed to rust away. It surely made those initial years harder- they had what they required to ease transition from ship life to land tenure, but no one cared. It was claimed the warp overhead cleansed them, and they returned to an earlier human way of life, the ways that hadn’t known technology- we would call it the dark ages...or darak times. Still, it was paradise, so what more could one desire? Only to be left alone and the warp achieved that. However, in the time of discovery to enforced isolation one other sentient race made Valaris their home also, and I’m sure they were made to feel unwelcome, probably threatened, certainly ostracized, as humans have been doing for time immemorial. I cannot say who they were or how many or how long it was before they realised Valaris could never be a home, but that day came…and the warp trapped them. Had they the kind of magic we possess, staying or leaving would’ve been easily decided, but they didn’t, not in the way we know. They retreated to this Forest; it was even larger then, and proved a haven for a time. They built this Well…’ Taranis thumped the wall behind him.

It was an ordinary, round, stone well. Looking in, the water was a stone from overflowing, the liquid fresh; there was no bucket, no handle and no rope in sight.

‘They built it with only four left. They were farseers and had that kind of extraordinary magic. Who they were, as in a race name, has been lost, but an inquisitive little boy one day spied on them and the tale has lived on. The four gathered around their well and linked hands, peering deep into the depths to infuse the water with all magic they possessed. The liquid- water being pure and life-giving- became a medium for their song…and when the story was told and retold over the ages since then, all shake their heads and sigh in deep regret. As the story goes, one could see magic made music, and the music, the song, the harmony, the sound and purity of vibration gently lifted out, droplets pure and beautiful, sad and filled with longing. One could hear magic as it soared out on gossamer wings, filled the Forest and rose into the air, the atmosphere and beyond; crystal sound, astonishingly lovely and terribly haunting. They were calling home, sending crystal harmonies to penetrate the warp…’

Taranis sighed eloquently. ‘We don’t know if they succeeded, but hope it came to pass, for when the music was at its purest, its saddest, they simply vanished. The sound slowly dropped back into the water and it still retains magic to this day. Dip your fingers in and you feel it; drink it and your ailments of mind and body disappears. Sadly, no one has made it sing since…and that, my friends, is how this came to be called the Well of Crystal Sound.’ Taranis fell silent, his gaze faraway.

Dialogue with Taranis

My name is Blue River Frond and I am from Charikian. We are people watchers and we are scribes. Every being in all time and space has a place and a purpose and to that end we record the words they speak, for posterity…and for insight into the past. Please call me Blue and read my dialogues:

TARANIS

(A dialogue recorded on abandoned Mon Unon before the Guardians embarked upon The Game.)

Blue: We should begin with who you are, should we not? Many know your name, but we are now speaking to those who do not. Tell us a little about yourself.

Taranis: I don’t enjoy talking about myself. I’d rather discuss the role of the Guardians.

Blue: And we’ll get to that. Perhaps talking about yourself will reveal the Guardians also.

Taranis: Well, I guess you could say I was chosen to lead…

Blue: Let’s not be coy, my lord. You are Taranis, Lord of the Guardians, and there are those who call you Lord of the Deities.

Taranis: The latter is pure misconception…or misguided perception.

Blue: Humankind, I believe, refers to you as Lord of the Deities.

Taranis: Not humankind in general. Only on Valaris.

Blue: Why?

Taranis: Millennia ago a creature known as Drasso attempted to conquer Valaris, with the help of his mother…

Blue: Infinity, right?

Taranis: Yes, Infinity was Drasso’s mother, and caught between the two of them Valaris was about to succumb. We’re talking poisoned air and absolute annihilation of the population. The Guardians stepped in and because we were seen as fantastical as Drasso and Infinity were, well, Valarians came to regard us as gods. Deities.

Blue: And you led them.

Taranis: Something like that.

Blue: We hear there are temples and churches dedicated to the worship of Taranis.

Taranis: Not my doing.

Blue: How did you become leader of the Guardians? You are, after all, a human, and humans cannot be said to have the ability to do what you have.

Taranis: I guess my humanity during the time of Drasso aided us to victory. I was able to use the kind of strategy humans could identify with. It is a truth we would not have won had it not been for the people of Valaris gifting us their support. Many paid for it with their lives. My colleagues in the Dome saw the time of humankind had arrived in the universe…and chose me as leader.

Blue: A human Immortal. How is that possible?

Taranis: Anything is possible if you want it enough. I do not care to discuss my longevity further.

Blue: The Dome you refer to is the gathering place for the Guardians. Would you care to describe it for us?

Taranis: It’s a dome.

Blue: It’s more than that.

Taranis: It’s made of crystal and obsidian and travels through the ages due to inherent magic, but it is still a dome.

Blue: In vacuum.

Taranis: The vacuum protects it, yes.

Blue: We hear you are married.

Taranis: Was. My personal life isn’t the issue here.

Blue: My lord, female readers like to…

Taranis: My heart is spoken for, and that is as much as I’m prepared to reveal.

Blue: Who is she?

Taranis: This interview will end now…

Blue: Very well, no more of that. Where do you call home, my lord?

Taranis: I consider myself nomadic. Duties to the Dome do not allow for much personal space.

Blue: My sources tell me you have a home on Thisseldrum, but Thisseldrum isn’t the place of your birth.

Taranis: No one is born to Thisseldrum.

Blue: So we hear. It is a world for the wealthy, a chosen destination for those with the means to live there. It follows thus…

Taranis: I am not a wealthy man. I simply require privacy.

Blue: Your status granted you the right to residence.

Taranis: Yes. How did you discover this? Not even the Guardians know where I call home and I would prefer to keep it that way.

Blue: I doubt a Guardian will read the transcript of this dialogue, my lord. Your secret is safe. Where were you born? It must have been a human world.

Taranis: It doesn’t matter where I was born. What matters right now is that the Guardians face a new threat.

Blue: The dara-witch Infinity has a new game to play, we hear.

Taranis: Indeed, and the Guardians will step in once more. We are the protectors.

Blue: And the universe is aware of that and many appreciate you for your calling, but many more wonder how it is Infinity has gone unpunished for so long. Will you finish it this time?

Taranis: The witch is slippery. Our hope is to negate her.

Blue: Where will you do so? Which field of battle has she chosen this time?

Taranis: Valaris. Again.

Blue: It smacks of revenge.

Taranis: It is.

Blue: Valaris. Where humankind already regards you as a deity. That could work in your favour.

Taranis: I am inclined to think it will disadvantage us. Our appearance as gods to the rescue could spread the kind of fear we shall be hard-pressed to function within. It is better, this time, to remain as anonymous as possible. Do not make this public knowledge.

Blue: All transcripts have to be vetted. This one won’t be filed for at least another year. Now, if I may ask: what about you, the man Taranis?

Taranis: I don’t follow.

Blue: What do you do for fun? What do you read, if you read? Where do you go to relax, if it isn’t Thisseldrum? Tell us about yourself.

Taranis: I read histories, mostly, and I enjoy fishing in isolated places. Relaxation is relative, but when it can be found I usually chose green worlds where fish teem in the rivers. I’m a simple man, really.

Blue: Does she accompany you on your fishing trips?

Taranis: No.

Blue: Would you like her to?

Taranis: This interview is over.

Blue: My lord…

Taranis: I have duties.

(The dialogue come to an abrupt halt at this point, but there is a further interview recorded with Taranis, not yet vetted.)

The 'gods'

Herald, lift your bugle! The gods have come!

Using magic to travel via doorways through the spaces, insubstantial as a breath of wind, faster than any light, they materialized seconds apart in the clearing. Like to Drasso and his kind, when they sought entrance through the barrier of the space warp surrounding Valaris skies, it proved assailable then and it proved so now; the warp was no barrier to real magic, and thus not to them.

Belun of the Centuar arrived first and he grinned as he landed. Time for action! His golden tail was raised high in challenge and swished gracefully. When physical battles were enjoined Centuar plaited their tails in intricate patterns- the symbolism of war. Belun’s eyes were silver with dark blue pupils, the pupils contracting and expanding in light and dark. His glorious wings, folded now, glinted in the sunlight; a shimmering palette of gold and silver. He was a truly magnificent sight. Let it be said here a Centuar is not a Centaur, a confusion for those who don’t know the truth. A Centaur is a myth, a story, a tale, and may even be real in the back ends of time, for myth frequently has basis in reality, but a Centuar is of the universe, part of time and history and reality, a created legend that continues to breathe and function, think and act. Belun, if one dared query the distinction, would snap at one for confusing one with the other.

Glint of the Sagorin and Llettynn of the Siric arrived simultaneously. Llettynn was in his usual white attire, wings folded sedately. Glint, whose skin tone was a paler green than his companions, had divested himself of eye-catching amber to don shades of green that blended with the Forest; even his boots were green, which Belun smirked at, and only his hair relieved the severity of camouflage. It hung loose, long and enviably thick, the purest white.

Saska of the Sylmer appeared three seconds after, arriving closest to the Well. She complemented Glint in her green tones, but had swapped elven slippers for sturdy hiking boots and tinkling bracelets were missing. A broad leather strap adorned her left upper arm, studded with crimson, sapphire and saffron gems. This was more than adornment; it was a highly effective weapon.

Taranis, having ascertained his team’s safe arrival, came last, appearing at the edge of the clearing, his muscular form clad entirely in grey, the most effective colour of concealment.

He strode forward to meet up at the Well of Crystal Sound.

(using colour to illustrate the impact Guardians have on others)

Gathering of Rain

Taranis

Taranis strode over to the dais. He disdained clothes of any purpose other than functionality and was thus casually clad in plain black breeches tucked into leather boots and a blue linen shirt. His hair, thick and dark, teased the collar of his shirt.

He stepped up and laid his sword and scabbard down, and turned to survey the gathered. Grey eyes crinkled in a greeting smile.

He knew all present were able to perform the tasks he had for them this occasion…and sighed. Today was a day of choices. Potentially, it could get heated before calm reigned. They would all step forward to offer hands, minds and lives, and he could select only four. His eyes warmed when he noticed individuals catch his gaze deliberately. At one time or another each had been a teacher to him. Each taught him well, each was a friend. The wheel had turned, however, and today he was the teacher. He thought his ability to lead stemmed from his uniqueness and singularity, for they were multiple units and could argue hard before unanimous decision.