The Dark Magical World of Alamptria (13 page)

“Father?” asked Grongone.

“Yes, my son, it is I, Bremendalf, your father. You may only have little memory of me, for you were just a boy when I went up to the heavens. But all these years I have been watching over you. I do not celebrate my past; I stand in shame for all I’ve done, as I am responsible for the death of the elves, elves who have been long forgotten.” Bremendalf’s voice grew thick, and his eyes became heavy with tears. “These elves once ruled this very land. We were a society of peace and love. And all of that prosperity was destroyed by Makoor. So I say to you, in the face of these impending dark times, when the lands are lost to the dark forces, and the rivers bleed red from the blood of our people, do not weep. For today a child was born—one who in years to come will put an end to all the evil in this land of Alamptria.” Bremendalf raised his hands. “Rejoice, for the savior of Alamptria has arrived. Lantrinon is the true light of Petoshine.” He brought his arms down and leaned forward. “But be warned, my son, before Lantrinon destroys the dark forces there will still be much suffering. Be strong, be wise, and may the vim of Petoshine be your guide.” Bremendalf smiled and slowly disappeared.

Felicia looked at Grongone with great assurance. “Does this bring peace to your troubled mind? Have you seen what you needed to see? Have your father’s words brought any comfort to your troubled mind?”

“It pains me to know that my father was responsible for the death of the elves. So many lives lost,” said Grongone sadly. “My father speaks of celebrations, good fortune, and everlasting peace. Yet he tells me that the villages will be overrun by the dark forces, and we will be brought to our knees just as my father was.” Grongone grew pensive. “What comfort is there in that? Why is it that the swords of Petoshine will not bring death to Makoor, Felicia? What do you see?”

Felicia looked at him sadly. “No sword you can conjure up can destroy Makoor, my husband.”

“Then no matter what we do, darker times indeed lie ahead,” said Grongone.

Felicia let her eyes flutter closed briefly. When she opened them, her vision was clear and purposeful. “Two thousand years ago, Bremendalf had the greatest power in all of Alamptria. Instead of using his wisdom to strike at Makoor, he let his guard down. That is why your father failed. Now only with the sword of Bivion can Makoor be destroyed. It is the only blade made by an elf that can bring him to death.”

“I have read the stories on the sword of Bivion in your book written centuries ago. That sword was destroyed!” Grongone raised his voice.

“No, it was not destroyed. It is merely lost,” said Felicia. “The sword of Bivion lies in the depths of the caves of Mount Drone in the shadows of the waters. The son of Caprius Seaton will find a way. That I assure you.” Felicia edged closer. “I have seen the sword of Bivion in my visions. It does exist. Lantrinon will find it.”

“I have the sword of Lantrinon, one that he will use until he finds the sword of Bivion.” Grongone pointed to two large stones in the garden. “He and Trojas will both work for it.”

Felicia looked concerned. “There is something else you must know. The prophecy also states that the mother of Lantrinon will enter the dark world in time.”

Grongone gasped. “Oh, no, not Melina.”

“It is by her doing that I will live once more. I will become a living soul as I once was,” said Felicia.

“That is not what the prophecy stated,” said Grongone.

“The prophecy has many meanings. It can be misread. You must try and unravel its mystery. It was I who wrote the book of Bivion. My foresight has allowed me to interpret the true prophecy. I know its meanings.”

“I am sorry. I do not pretend to comprehend its full meaning as you have. But if what you say is true, then my heart will rejoice to have you by my side once again, Felicia. No Kongorf will ever pierce your heart again.” Grongone paused. “I must ask, though; you and my father speak of Lantrinon’s fall. We understood that he is the chosen one. What premonitions do you see for the boy? Your power is greater than mine. Tell me, wise one, what is it you know that I cannot see?”

“Before Lantrinon’s rise, he will endure pain and suffering. Your answer lies here beneath this castle.”

“Felicia, show me where I can find the answer. Please, would you guide me?” asked Grongone.

Felicia beckoned to an unlit torch stuck in a column. It loosened itself and came to her. With her powers she ignited the torch. “The mists of Petoshine shall give you the vision. Follow me.” Felicia walked through the indoor gardens to a set of stone stairs that led to beneath the castle. Grongone and the Muskata creatures followed. The stairs circled downwards, deep into the earth. On either side of the stairs were waterfalls. At last they arrived at the bottom of the system of caves that wended their way beneath the castle. A brook gurgled to one side. They followed the water. On a rock sat a muskrat cleaning its fur. It paused and looked up as they approached. Felicia spoke to the creature. “We have come to see the things that are yet to come,” she said. “Take us to him, muskrat.”

The muskrat skittered down from the rock and disappeared into the dark cave closest to him. Felicia, Grongone, and the Muskatas followed. The cave tunnel was tall enough for everyone, but Grongone who had to stoop as he walked through. They walked several minutes until they came upon some golden treasures glittering in the light of Felicia’s torch. As she kept on, it was evident there was treasure throughout the cave, lining the walkway and covered only by a low-lying mist. Grongone and the Muskatas did not know what these treasures meant, but wordlessly they continued to follow the muskrat.

Eventually they came to a small wooden boat bobbing on the stream, which had widened. A single oar lay at its rear. Beside that sat a hooded grim reaper. The Muskatas and Grongone held back while Felicia approached the boat. She turned. “We must get into the boat,” she said. The muskrat got into the vessel, and Grongone and the Muskatas followed. They sat down and looked over the side at the glittering water. Beneath the surface lay golden treasures.

“I have never been this far down in the caves,” said Grongone. Felicia held the torch and kept her face forward. “I don’t understand. Where are we going?” asked Grongone.

“We are going into the cave of Anomptra. It is a single cave. I have something to show you,” said Felicia.

“Can you not just tell us what we can expect to see?”

“No. I wish for you to see for yourselves,” said Felicia.

As they went along the brook, they noticed more and more treasures. Just as the boat turned into the cave of Anomptra, Felicia threw her torch into the water. “We will not be needing that anymore,” she said. Indeed, at the entrance of Anomptra there was a bright light. The interior of the cave was lit up in bright gold. The walls glistened with golden sparkles imbedded in the stone, and the walls were huge; the cave expanded to three times the height of the other caves. Soon they came to a shore heaped with golden treasures.

Felicia, Grongone, and the Muskatas got out of the boat onto the island of gold. “Follow me,” said Felicia.

They walked up the island, trying to step around the many tiny golden treasures, but it was impossible to avoid them. Mixed in amongst the gold coins and decorative urns, incense holders, and sceptres were raw diamonds, rubies, emeralds, and sapphires. They walked up the mound. Grongone was perplexed, for they had no use for material goods. “Is it the treasures you wanted to show us, Felicia?”

“No. It is the treasure within the treasure,” she said.

“How far do we go?” asked Grongone.

“You will know when we get there,” she said.

They climbed further and further until they stood on the side of a large mound of treasure, one that would make any mortal the richest and most powerful in the entire world. “What is it that I see?” asked Grongone. “Up there.” He pointed, shielding his eyes from the glare.

“That is the answer to the riddle,” said Chooko. The muskrat kept on, scrambling up the items. Finally they came close enough to the top to see the thing at the peak. It was an old man, broken and beaten down. He lay on top of the pile, limply hanging his head. Beside him was a golden table on which sat rotten fruits, fetid, sour meat, and bread covered in mould. On a tray lay several cheeses, all inedible. In bottles were bitter, aged wine and petrified honey. The man’s skeleton was visible through his wasted body; his lips were cracked and the color of ash. Even if the food had been fresh, his mouth had puckered into such a tiny slit that he wouldn’t have been able to eat even a grape. His hair was long and white, and he seemed imprisoned in the armor that remained draped over his atrophied muscles.

Upon the group’s approach, the old man turned his head with great difficulty to look at them. He was clearly weak and tired and suffered from pain. He tried to form the word “help,” but even gathering the breath to make the “h” sound was too much, and he fell back to the mound of jewels and glittering gold.

“Who is this man, Felicia?” asked Grongone.

“Someone who deserved such a punishment for being so tempted by treasure. He renounced what he was supposed to do, so to punish him a curse was put upon him,” said Felicia. “Unfortunately he decided he wanted all the treasures of Anomptra to himself, his desire so strong he rejected all human kind to fuel his hunger.” Felicia looked at the old man with pity and derision. “They once called him the savior,” said Felicia.

Grongone’s eyes widened in fright. “My God, this is Lantrinon?”

“Yes,” she said, casting her eyes down.

“I don’t understand,” said Grongone.

“He forsook the world to feed his own greed. This is the reason he will suffer when the time comes.”

Grongone shook his head. “No, this cannot be. He was the chosen one.”

“Yes, he was. Things change. You cannot help him,” she said. “But come with me. I have more to show you. You must see that hope will still prevail.”

“More? You want to show me more?” asked Grongone. “I don’t want to see any more.”

“As hard as it is to accept, you must see what it is I have to show you. Come with me,” said Felicia. “Muskrat, show us the way,” she said to the creature.

The Muskrat pattered down the other side of the mound, and the others followed. The last of the group, and so overcome with grief at the future of Lantrinon, Grongone lost his balance and tumbled down the mountain of treasure. Gold coins and sparkling gems were tossed in the air as he slid. When he reached the bottom, where the others waited for him, there was a pool of water. The muskrat and Felicia went to the water’s edge, and the others slowly joined her. Out in the center was a beautiful young female warrior. They looked at her face, trying to identify her. “Who is she?” asked Grongone.

“She is cousin to Lantrinon. Daughter to Dragus Seaton. She met her fate. Lantrinon chose seeking the treasure over saving her life. When he made that decision, the curse was put upon him.”

“I cannot believe this,” said Grongone. “It is simply too much to bear.”

“Be that as it may, this is the future he will choose. Only Lantrinon himself can undo what he has done.”

Grongone looked into the water. Beneath the water he saw the sword, surrounded by treasure. “What is that I see, that sword?” asked Grongone.

“That, Grongone, is the lost sword of Bivion,” said Felicia.

Grongone looked at Felicia in tears. The Muskata creatures began to sniff. Even the muskrat dabbed at his little eyes with his paws. “Who put this curse upon Lantrinon?” he whispered.

Felicia bowed her head. When she looked up, tears were streaming down her face. “It was I, Felicia the Golden Fleece. I will put this curse on Lantrinon.”

Grongone and the Muskatas stood in shock. Suddenly, Felicia held out her hand, which brought forth a bright white light, blinding everyone so they had to shield their eyes. In a second, the light abated. They lifted their hands and found themselves back in the garden of Castle Petoshine. Everyone stared at the Golden Fleece with confusion and betrayal. “It is what is to come,” said Felicia. She closed her eyes, and a luminous light sparked from within her. Then she was gone.

Lantrinon- Rapture

In the book
‘Lantrinon,’
Melina Hampshire is in deep thought. Her newborn child Lantrinon must face unusual circumstances. Felicia the Golden Fleece has promised the lands of Alamptria freedom and peace. But to Felicia, there is no freedom without sacrifice. Let us see how this unfolds…

***

The evening sun glistened on the blanket of snow covering the gardens of Meadow-lie. In the wintered forest, the trees were bare but for a fine dusting of snow like sugar. On the gravel pathways, the snow had been cleared and was humped to the sides. A few birds circled one another overhead and sang their light-throated calls over the dapple of the garden streams, which hadn’t yet frozen beneath the thin crust of ice.

Melina Hampshire strolled along the garden trails of Meadow-lie, joyfully cooing to her newborn baby, Lantrinon. Melina was a sincere, passionate young woman with a pure heart that shined radiantly out to everyone who knew her. Her life was indeed blessed: a doting husband and a beautiful child who was of great importance to their people. This child would fulfill the prophesy of Alamptria; one day he would raise his sword and strike down the evil that infiltrated their land by slaying the dark lord of Mount Drone, protecting the vim of Petoshine and upholding the peace Grongone the great wizard tried to bring to their people.

Lantrinon yawned, startling Melina out of her trance. Her heart was beating like a rabbit’s, and she thought she might faint. She looked around at the gardens, the lush wood and the gentle dusk coming upon her, and realized she’d been daydreaming. She was in Meadow-lie. She was safe now. Her stomach lurched; gentleman or not, Tyrus Clore was a monster.

She continued to walk, holding her son close, and eventually came to the large pond where a cockboat was bobbing gently in the water by the shore. In the boat was Father Lornius Kibius of the church of Meadow-lie. “Hello, Melina! I have been waiting for you,” he said, smiling warmly.