The Book of Ominiue: Starborn (48 page)

The Earthmen were ordered to bed just before midnight; the general announced they were to return to the settlement early the next day. Shayne made himself ready for bed and lay upon it with his window open, allowing a cool breeze to pass through his bed hangings. The base sounds of the drums rolled over into his room, providing a hypnotic rhythm that he eventually drifted to sleep to.

***

He stood at the foundations of the great tower. An eagle glided high above. He brought his eyes down to the ancient doors that were broken and corroded. A gap in the rotted wood was wide enough for him to squeeze through. It was dark and musty inside but he could see everything and before him was a set of stairs. He saw the back of the man with long silver hair holding out a staff, a blue light began to shine from its tip, illuminating a short distance around him. The stranger’s attention was drawn to a dark place of the tower, his head was turned and he looked intently out at nothing. He then turned his attention to the stairs before him and with a flick of his cloak he made his way up them. Shayne followed him; stepping quickly to keep up, but as he reached the staircase all he could see was the retreating glow of the blue light. Shayne tried to climb faster to catch the man but the light was always just out of reach; continuously flooding the stairs before him and threatening to leave him in darkness.

Shayne started to run; often stumbling as he forever made his way upwards, passing countless rooms as he ascended but no matter how fast he ran the flickering light remained the same. Finally, exhausted and out of breath he reached the top. Shayne rested a moment upon that final landing before bringing himself to push the only door before him.

Two men stood in the last room; waiting for him. The blue light from the silver haired man faintly lit their faces, giving them an eerie and frightening look. The black haired man stepped forward.

‘Time to wake up Afrada ala Hama,’ and with the motion of his hand the roof of the tower broke open and a great dragon appeared. Its massive head snapped at Shayne where it roared with all the anger in the world. Shayne recoiled in horror and slipped as he felt the floor give way underneath him, he reached out as he fell, but no one reached out to save him.

***

Shayne cried out. He grasped the back of his head which burned with an intense pain. He got up rubbing it. The pain soon subsided as if nothing had happened. Once again he found himself sitting upon the end of the bed; leaning upon his knees he thought for a moment. He knew exactly what the hour was without checking. After a moment’s reflection he put on pants and a black singlet-shirt, and headed for the guestroom door. He opened it carefully; peering out he saw that both the guards posted at his door were nowhere to be seen. He stepped out cautiously, looking about him but no one was present. He took the opportunity to make his way down the hallway towards the throne room. As he descended the stairs a middle aged human came out of a room, being a day of celebration many people were still about. The servant was momentarily startled at the sight of Shayne but then his eyes glazed over; he hunched over and continued on as if under a spell. Shayne watched the man shuffle along; a grey dog followed him with the same dreamy expression upon its face. Shayne continued on; the palace seemed almost deserted and the few guards he saw displayed the same sightless gaze, they glanced past him as if he was never there.

Two shytardas guarded the Palace’s main entrance; as he approached they opened the door for him; though they did not see him in their dreamy state. Shayne stepped out into the night. He could hear the music playing; mixed in with the faint sound of the waterfall. Looking over at the temple he sometimes saw a flicker of embers rise high in the air. Guards moved about, but their vigil seemed broken; they did not seem to see anything around them yet they continued patrolling. Shayne made his way to the great metal gates of the tower. He felt a faint stirring in the pit of his stomach and wondered if it was fear. The tower guards stood tall with their white cloaks draped over one shoulder and sharp halberds in their other hand. They looked oddly at Shayne at first wondering why he approached them but they too descended into the strange hypnosis as they opened the gates for him. He made his way up the steps of the building. The sense of déjà vu grew within him and he hesitated a moment, but then he remembered the words of Pan’arden that night along the road to Kérith-Árim.

“The importance that the teachers give to the laws is in its foundations, and that is to look at all possibilities without prejudice, then to set out to find which is the truth, even if the answer leads to the one you do not wish.”

Shayne placed his hands on the great iron doors expecting them to resist his push, but they effortlessly slid open, as if his very will commanded them.

The doors were aligned with the moon; it filled the room briefly with its weak light before slowly closing behind, leaving him in complete darkness. He opened his
wristcom
, the faint light of the computer lit up a small area. He pressed a few commands and closed the lid. A stronger light appeared from the small display, bright enough to allow him to explore. Just like his dreams there was a door entering a stairwell straight ahead. He followed them up. Patterns carved into the stone walls followed him up. Several lines glided along the stairwell, erupting in places in swirls and circles, it was more detailed than the pattern rings of the Teachers Halls, more involved, more beautiful and again it reminded Shayne of colliding quantum particles. As he steadily made his way up he occasionally stopped and shined his light into the many rooms; revealing strange wonders in the limited light available: Masses of books and study-spaces, Rooms for sleeping and rooms for teaching, ancient machinery of the likes Shayne had never seen before. Eventually he grew tired, puffing from the effort so he decided to investigate one of the rooms as he rested. He stood in what looked like a workshop. What drew him into this particular room over the others was a great wooden glider suspended by chains from the roof, it reminded him of Leonardo da Vinci’s flying machine, but the frame was less heavy looking and the wingspan greater, it was driven by a gear system where the arms rested. As he stepped amongst the artefacts he saw many other curious things, most of which had no sense of familiarity. As he slowly walked around the benches he paused and picked something up that attracted his attention; it was old matchlock pistol. There were a couple of them upon the bench, but they had been tampered with, someone in the past had decided to make them inoperable. He reluctantly put the weapon down and left the room to continue up the steps. Twice he was forced to stop as he climbed and he had to sit to catch his breath.

Eventually he made it to the very top, an iron door stood between him and the room beyond, with a faint light protruding from the gap along the floor. A faint squeak filled the room as he pushed the door open, it was only a small sound but the silence amplified it, causing Shayne to wince. The room was empty of life, but in the centre rested a grand and ancient optical telescope. It was extraordinary piece of engineering that caught Shayne’s full attention, making him forget where he was for a moment. It looked more like a cannon than anything else, but the leather seat and lenses at the back end revealed its true nature. It was encompassed by several heavy gears and levers; seized after millennia of cobwebs and rust. Some of the gears were enormous, stepping forward he saw that the central floor of the machine was a giant gear in itself. There was a lowered spot for the observer. Shining his light into the dark pit below the telescope he saw the great turntable gear everything rested on. The old leather seat had split in places and the red colour faded, with dust and creatures living inside.

He looked up and around him. The roof was covered, except for one small slit revealing the classic observatory dome. The opening was guided by steel ropes and more rusted gears. The rest of the room was packed with tables and bookshelves pushed up into every free space, ancient books stacked up high and instruments of experiments lingered as if suddenly abandoned; everything was covered in centuries of dust and decay. The books below the rusted open split destroyed from exposure to the weather with objects scattered about and broken.

As he looked around he noticed between two bookcases another door. A warm orange glow shone from the gap at the bottom, the light occasionally flickered as someone moved about within. Shayne quietly walked across to the door and reached out for the handle. With a couple of breaths, he gently pushed against the door. On the other side was the study from his dreams and just as it was in his dream there were two men waiting for him; one in the darkest corner of the room hidden in shadow, the other man was Níurthan; hoodless and holding a staff in his hand: the top half was made from metal and the lower half of wood. Shayne stepped through the door into the warm glow of the light, but there did not seem to be a source, the illumination was from everywhere.

‘We have been expecting you, Afrada ala Hama,’ the monk addressed him.

Shayne nodded then answered, ‘Malakite, son of Marakite, of House Markees.’

The monk’s mouth broke into the faintest of smiles. He lifted his hand and removed the metal mask and bandana. Shayne stepped closer to see him more clearly. His hair was cut short and dyed to deceive the outside world. The scars, which appeared from an animal attack followed around his head to the top of his left eye, with another single scar running across his cheekbone. His eyes were strange, they looked similar but something also seemed different; as much of their physical features looked similar, yet nothing appeared different either. It was hard to place, he had pale blue eyes that immediately drew Shayne’s attention; the iris seemed larger than normal, and they held a strength that he could not comprehend; an intensity that was a little unnerving. The other man also stepped forward with a black rod in his hand and a single battered leather pauldron draped over his shoulder. He squinted a bit as the light in the room burned his sensitive vision, but Shayne saw he was the exact image from the dream; long dark hair and the same coloured eyes as Níurthan.

‘And may I introduce to you, Ta’aran the black staff, of House Kahriah,’ the two Afradians faced the Starborn with their grim and old eyes.

Chapter
13

Mist

“Facts which at first seem improbable
will, even on scant explanation, drop the cloak which has hidden them and stand forth in naked and simple beauty.” 

                                                                                   – Galileo Galilei

The two Afradians watched Shayne through indifferent eyes. He stood poised unable to think clearly, while both Afradians also stood in silence. They were perfectly still, standing like statues with their intense stares fixed upon him.

‘Anos dullól da dartoos ala Kadalian,’ Ta’aran spoke.

‘I do,’

‘Anos nanla coolin amdo darning da anó ala Heínan ten Markees?’

Shayne shifted uneasily at this question.  ‘It was the metal man who read the name, not I.’ they seemed satisfied with this so he asked, ‘You are Wizards?’

‘The Shingah. Yes, we are.’

‘And the UeVarda, he knows who you truly are?’ Shayne examined Malakite.

‘He knows me for my true title, though all others only know Níurthan.’

‘And you made me dream?’

‘We did,’ Ta’aran said.

‘We called you here,’ Malakite added.

‘How?’

‘That we cannot tell you, for it falls in the art and secrets of our sect. Ta’aran has his own mastery as I do mine, and together we called you. Our power is closer to you than you believe. The difference lies in that you walk in the shadows whereas we do not.’

They were so still in their movements, so calm. They did not gesture as the humans and lionmen did. Malakite, under the mask of Níurthan even gestured at times, but now they remained still. Even the Astronauts who rarely expressed themselves with movements were more animated than these two.

‘You gave me dreams. Does that mean you are able to penetrate my mind?’ Shayne imagined them reading his thoughts and the reality of such power running through the city disturbed him, but he also wondered if it was possible to use it in conjunction with technology, to boost and transmit it. The Afradian gave a faint smile which further pressed on Shayne that he was currently reading his mind.

‘I do have this ability you are thinking of, though it is not as you perceive it. You think in images over words; that is uncommon in a Ta’Orian. Sending a thought as a dream or an idea from a wizard to an Orian is one thing: receiving from someone who cannot project is another.’

‘But you can see my mind.’

‘All of our kind are able to communicate on the silent level if they are trained, but the reach of the mind is too short to receive without our heads touching. That is where the Afradian family greeting comes from,’ Shayne recalled the UeVarda and the monk embracing after the battle.

‘For me to extend the power of my mind I have to pull energy from my staff just to reach you standing a few paces away. The ability also opens my own mind to those around me. Ta’aran can see into me just as I can see into you. Even then it is not an open treasure for anyone to take what they please. One can only see what is brought to the surface. To dig deeper one must trick the person into thinking about it.’

‘Is there a way to know that you are reading my mind?’

‘To touch a mind is to connect, a careless mind could accidently give information back. I believe it is what you call Feedback? Though it is usually subtle and one must understand the images they see are not from themselves and that is not easily done. Another subtle way surrounds us here, do you feel the room?’ The Afradian looked about him, Shayne followed his lead. The room was cool; he felt the warmth of the observatory behind him, but before him was a slight chill. ‘I; like all, draw our energy from our surroundings. We are best suited to the sunlight falling upon us than the darkness, which is why the warrior wizards of old preferred to battle during the day.’

‘A drop in temperature means you are casting a spell?’

‘It means we draw energy and nothing else. A Shingah always draws some energy into
orben
[16]
; it does not necessarily mean they are using it. The focus will lose its heat to its surroundings if it is not maintained. If you grew suddenly cold, you know the wizard is drawing a lot of power and they would not do so unless they intend to cast.’

Malakite motioned with his hands towards the observatory and began to walk out of the room. Shayne stood aside as they passed and followed just behind them. The ancient device looked bleak sitting there; unused for so long. A magnificent white eagle flew through the gap of the observatory dome; it glided in and landed upon Ta’aran’s shoulder. Settling down on the leather guard it turned its moon-blue eyes upon Shayne; assessing him.

‘This is my Maltat, Charlulk,’ Ta’aran introduced. The bird clicked its peak once in greeting.

Shayne marvelled at it for a brief moment before he continued on, ‘They say a Maltat cannot bear to part from oren’s companion for long.’

Ta’aran gave the slightest of chuckles, ‘One can train them. I could send Charlulk to the far reaches of Dífrun if I so desired, but it takes time to endure the separation and effort.’

‘What about this tower, why meet here?’

‘It is our domain and our right. You stand here as our guests and through our will.’

‘Do you have any other questions?’ Malakite asked.

‘I have many more questions than I can possibly ask in one night.’

‘And we only have hours before the day’s light rises upon us.’

‘I would like to learn more about you: the ancient race and the power you possess, but I know you are here to tell me something so why have you brought me here?’

‘I am afraid our words do not possess the knowledge you seek,’ Ta’aran replied, ‘but we are here to guide you and offer our advice, for you must ultimately walk alone in this journey.’

‘Then how are you to guide me, and where?’

‘Along the path.’

‘And what path is that?’

‘The one that leads to your dreams.’

‘But I followed them and I am here now,’ Shayne’s face hardened at his words.

‘We meant the other dream.’ Shayne instantly thought about the man in the field.

‘That is the one,’ Malakite added.

‘That was not you?’

‘No,’ Ta’aran answered, ‘that is a power beyond our own. It is a power no Orian can possess; its very strength permeates all of time and space. It has broken through the universe just so it could reach you.’

‘How do I follow a dream? Your dream was clear; it showed the tower, but a field could be anywhere.’

‘Opportunities will present themselves. Take them as they come, you must start leading and stop following, make decisions and act as a freeman. Your destiny will fill itself. You must leap when given the chance, even if it is beyond reason.’

‘And what if it brings destruction?’

‘Irrelevant,’ The Afradian coldly replied. ‘It is the outcome that is important.’

‘So if I am to destroy an empire?’

‘It would be to save the universe,’ replied Ta’aran. ‘One must look past one’s self and onto the greater good.’

‘Many have believed they were following the
greater good
but reality speaks otherwise, opinions speak otherwise.’

‘Opinion is irrelevant. We see from neutrality, as you do. Those who can determine what is at fault and without emotion can guide those who are unable to act due to it. We speak and act upon facts; some things must be sacrificed to rectify a wrong and return the stability.’

‘And what damage was that?’

‘We do not know, but you will. All shall be revealed,’ Ta’aran informed.

Malakite turned his head as if listening to something. He then faced his companion, ‘The second has failed and is falling to the earth.’

‘It is time for you to return to your room,’ Ta’aran commanded. ‘Follow the stairwell to the very bottom of the tower. There will be a passageway under the island. Follow it until you see the seventh opening on the right. Take that to the eleventh door upon the left and you will see another stairwell half way along, follow up two flights and take the third door. You will come along a long passageway that will lead you to the palace. We will be watching over you.’

‘And Afra’hama,’ Malakite gave the faintest of smiles, ‘
Gravity
as you call it is a fundamental force of the universe, it creates a distortion of the world around us due to the body within it.’ Shayne became paralysed for a moment as he stared at the monk, he could not understand how he would understand the old General Relativity laws. He went to speak but the two Afradians silently stepped back; blending into the darkness of the walls. Their action broke the awe that possessed him and he left them with one last glance back.

As he descended the steps he grew annoyed that nothing had actually been explained, all that was given was their existence and what did that prove? That some of the legends were true. He wondered what an Afradian really was.

***

Shayne was woken in the very early hours of the morning by a knock at his door, he rolled out of bed to see his
wristcom
flashing with missed connections; he was so exhausted that he slept through them. He got up from his bed, not needing to put anything on and opened the door. He squinted up at the two guards and Hanniver who looked worryingly at him.

‘Why haven’t you answered your com?’

‘I didn’t sleep well,’ Shayne replied rubbing one of his eyes.

‘Hurry up and meet us in Hendingson’s room,’ he urgently said. The tone in his voice brought Shayne to full alertness. He rushed back into the room; the guards peered in after him wondering what was going on. Shayne put his uniform on as quickly as he could; they then hurried down the corridors while he buttoned his jacket and fastened his belt properly, with both of the Imperial Shytardas following closely behind them. They meet Rae, Rahul and Jackston along the way.

The general shared his room with the air vice-marshal and they had a communications system setup with the face of Arnahell looking grimly out at them. Omar and Dominic were already there, standing to the side. Shayne and Hanniver walked across to see the screen. Beside the image of the captain was a picture of the Endaran Forest as seen from the eyes of the
Oxford
.

‘What’s going on?’ Shayne looked around, hoping to get some answers. The two guards looked over as well, though everyone ignored them.

‘We’ve lost another ship,’ the general looked grimly at them.

‘Another one?’ the Brigadier choked.

‘What do you mean?’ Shayne step forward. ‘What has happened?’ Williams glared at him but he remained silent.

‘Yesterday we lost contact with a civilian hoverplane that was heading to Isradia.’ The general clicked the screen, everyone moved around so they could see.

‘They moved off course and plotted a path that followed the borders of the forest. This here was where their last transmission was received,’ the screen flashed at a point just before the forest border, but still within the grass plains of the Magor-Missabain.

One of the guards gasped, ‘You crossed into the sacred land!’

Shayne turned to her. ‘They were not in the land they were flying around it; up in the air, not on the ground.’ The shytarda’s face was stone cold, but she remained silent.

‘Early this morning we sent a blackbird scouter as recon, to try and determine the whereabouts of the missing transport. Just like the other the transmission cut out.’ Everyone grew uncomfortable, aircraft always relayed their positions in real time and any malfunction was rare.

‘We did receive strange messages from the pilot before we lost contact,’ Williams replied. He swallowed hard; the Air Force was his domain. ‘It was twice the altitude as the civilian plane and as it passed the boundary that the other craft disappeared in she began to report odd readings on her instrumentation. Moments later total silence.’

‘The Astronauts recorded a strong magnetic field flux, emanating from the forest,’ Shayne reported. ‘They wanted to investigate its source.’

‘That shouldn’t cause the aircraft to disappear!’ Arnahell replied from the screen.

‘No,’ Shayne agreed, ‘but it could mean there’s some kind of anomaly there. That forest is Endaran and the land is barred to everyone. There might be a reason for that.’

‘The
Oxford
is ready to send a robotic probe on our command,’ the general said. Arnahell looked back at the people in the dim room with the straight cold interest of an Astronaut. Their ships and space-colonies operated almost as separate nations. If something went wrong they would attempt a rescue, unless it infringed on the safety of the other crews. Planetsider adoption of “no man left behind’ was irrational to them, but they still helped their cousins out when they could.