The Rising Sun: Episode 3 (6 page)

The lake’s surface was undisturbed, so
serene that not a ripple crossed it. Ion let his stare linger on
the glistening water surface for a few moments. And then, he
followed the other two as they made their way around the lake.

Ion couldn’t help experiencing a tingle of
awe as the three of them together entered the temple and strode
down its corridors. The entire place carried a sense of unblemished
grandeur. The walls, floor and ceiling together came with a
smoothness, a polished shine that was almost mesmerising.

The gleam of elegance reflected all through
the place had withstood for eight thousand years. Ion remembered
the mystical spells that the other two had told him of which were
meant to keep the structure’s build untarnished. He realised that
these spells probably extended to keep up the building’s lavish
outer display as well. But despite its poshness and grandeur, the
atmosphere was strangely vacuum … An air of empty soullessness
could be felt haunting the gigantic, palace like structure.

As they walked down the long, majestically
laid corridors, they walked past only a handful of cloaked figures
who were seen lingering about the place. Some of them were
strolling down in packs of two or three. They would smile or nod at
Vestra and Qyro as they walked past, evidently being familiar with
the brotherhood’s only two students. Most of them were elderly or
middle aged, with only a very scarce few looking to be younger than
thirty. But Ion couldn’t help feeling intrigued at the strangely
empty feeling that the structure carried … The number of people he
saw as he walked down it seemed shrunken for such an enormous and
majestic place. The life here was too less for such a large
place.

“Where is everyone?” he asked, looking round
at the two of them. “I don’t see a lot of people around.”

“That’s because these are all the Nyon there
are here, Ion.” said Vestra, with a sad smile.

“The temple, when built eight millennia
back, was probably hosting a far larger and stronger number of
Nyon.” said Qyro. “But not anymore. Now we’re just a fragment of
what we’d been when it had actually been built.”

“Since the brotherhood went into hiding, and
the Naxim begun its onslaught against mystics, we’ve been brought
down to a very pathetic state.” Vestra said. “Our numbers have
plummeted, and there aren’t a lot of mystics in the first place,
let alone mystics to join us.”

“Right now, the Nyon has a grand total of 83
members.” said Qyro. “Excluding the three of us, who haven’t been
given full fledged status yet. But this itself is quite something
to ask for … some of us are surprised we haven’t faded from lack of
initiates.”

“And we’re right to be.” said Vestra. “Soon,
there will be no one left for the Nyon to find and get to join
us.”

“And having another new member’s almost an
achievement.” Qyro turned to Ion with a grin. “The elder council’s
sure to be delighted to see you.”

Ion looked down the corridor they were now
in, spotting only one lonesome Nyon approaching from the other
side. “Where are they, the elder council?”

“They’ll be in their room, waiting for us.”
replied Vestra. “That’s where we’re heading now.”

For a minute or so, they strode down the
long corridor. Daylight flowed in through large windows hanging by
the right wall. Vestra and Qyro drew to a stop before a wooden door
by the wall on their left.

Before they could do anything, the door
swerved open by its own self, with no one visibly opening it. The
three of them entered a mediocre room with a large rectangular
window across the wall. A semi circular spread of seats lay by the
other end. Twelve seats, with a cloaked figure sitting on each.
Except for the one at the centre.

Standing ahead of the ring of seats stood a
short elderly man with clear white eyes. Mantra’s gaze slowly moved
across the three of them, and he nodded.

“Well done, indeed.” His gaze focussed on
Ion, and a faint smile flitted across his lips. “And we can see
someone’s come around.”

“He saved our lives.” Vestra told
Mantra.

“Yes, I thought he would have.” responded
Mantra.

Ion recognised two other masters whom he had
met earlier on, Dantox and Galinor. Galinor was beaming widely at
him. Dantox shook his head and said, “We owe you much, young one.
And your change of mind is one our entire world is grateful
for.”

Qyro removed the small crystal piece from
his pocket, holding it out before him. All eyes in the room
instantly focussed upon it. As the crystal robbed all attention,
Ion could feel something shift in the atmosphere.

“Here’s the dear item that almost cost our
necks.” Qyro said, tossing it across the room to Mantra, who caught
it with one hand. The elderly master held the crystal before him,
giving a moment’s intense stare at it.

“Good, now put it somewhere safe.” advised
Galinor, frowning at the crystal held in Mantra’s hand. “Real
safe.”

Mantra continued to look at the crystal
deeply, before tucking it away into his robe pocket. “That’s just
as safe as it’ll get.”

“Did you encounter any hindrance along the
way?” asked one of the masters, sitting by the right of Mantra’s
empty seat. He was a species Ion didn’t know of, with a horn
emerging from the bottom of his chin, and glistening, silver
coloured hair.

“We were lucky enough not to.” answered
Qyro.

The masters looked both surprised and
relieved.

“That really must have cost a great deal of
luck.” said one of them, a thin Iveling at the corner of the ring
of seats.

“What do you mean?” asked Qyro.

“We followed the plan exactly as Mantra told
us,” said Vestra, frowning. “And things went smooth enough … why
shouldn’t they have?”

“Because the Naxim’s tightened its security
protocols all over the spectrum,” said another of the masters who
sat cross legged, frowning. “At the present climate your journey
from the inner spectrum to here could have had a hundred things
that went wrong.”

“And seeing as they didn’t,” said Mantra.
“We truly are lucky. We didn’t inform you the true graveness of the
situation. And exactly how disastrous this adventure could have
turned out if not for the inexplicable stroke of luck that
delivered us victory.”

“What’s going on exactly?” asked Vestra, her
tone now impatient.

“There have been two terrorist attacks.”
explained the silver haired master. “Large scale ones.”

“And they both happened in the span of a few
horrific hours.” added Mantra. “And the culprits were the very
same.”

“Large scale terrorist attacks?” she
squealed, her eyes frozen over Mantra. “Well, do they have any idea
who’s behind it?”

A dark smile eclipsed Mantra’s face. “No.
they’ve no idea about the culprits … except for the one fact that
they were mystics.”

“Mystics?” hissed Vestra, the alarm on her
face rising.

“And no ordinary ones at that.” said
Dantox.

“We believe,” Galinor paused to heave a deep
breath, before re arranging his face into a composed look. “that
this is the return of our long dreaded enemy order.”

“Our ancient enemy order.” said Mantra. “The
Xeni are the ones responsible for the series of mayhem loosened
events occurring of late.”

Qyro, with whom Ion had shared this,
exchanged a knowing glance with Ion, while Vestra, who had no clue
of this, looked positively agog at what she had just heard.

“ Xeni?” she breathed, her eyes as wide as
apples. “But … they’re gone!”

A sad smile rose to Mantra’s lips. “We were
lucky enough not to fool ourselves with such fanciful delusions.
The Xeni hadn’t completely gone,” He shook his head. “They had
merely vanished from the known face of the world. They were waiting
to build themselves for the right time to re surface and seize the
victory that they had fought for eight millennia back.”

“And they will,” said Galinor darkly. “If we
don’t stop them. Because we’re all that stands in their way. Their
oldest and most hated foes.”

“That’s all fabulous,” snapped Qyro,
stepping forward. “but none of it makes sense to us. Can we know
what that thing is?” He pointed to Mantra’s pocket, where the
crystal lay. “What was the point of this entire lifethreatening
adventure that we undertook to get hold of it? What’s it got to do
with stopping the Xeni for heavens’s sake?”

The silence in the air around them lingered
for a few seconds, and then Mantra heaved a slow, deep breath.

“Follow me.”

Together, Mantra, Ion, Qyro and Vestra
slowly walked down the corridors. Mantra strode in front of the
three of them, leading them through the giant structure. The other
Nyon whom they rarely passed down the corridors would bow as they
saw Mantra approaching, and Mantra would smile or nod back. He led
them up a flight of stairs, large and polished like the rest of the
structure. They followed him in silence, the three of them sharing
the slightly wondrous atmosphere. And before they knew it, they had
reached the topmost floor, and were now mounting the last floor, to
the temple’s terrace.

It was a giant expanse, as large as any
building’s terrace, with vehicles and ships parked at random spots
around it.

Mantra stood before the three of them, and a
gentle breeze left his robes fluttering slightly. The forests
spreading beyond the temple were wild and unkempt. Like waves of
ruffled green frozen on the land. The sun hung far overhead, in the
middle of the cloudy blue sky.

“Err, master,” began Qyro, sounding
hesitant. “Exactly what are we here for?”

Mantra turned slowly, bringing his white
eyes over the three of them. “To take a small journey.”

They swapped a confused glance.

“Journey?” asked Ion.

“To where?” asked Vestra.

Mantra smiled, something seeming to sparkle
within his calm white eyes. “To a place far, far away…”

He slowly walked forward, passing the three
of them so that they turned, watching him as he trotted a few feet
before them.

“A place far away … but closer than we
think.” A strange trace of longing could be felt through Mantra’s
voice, which now emerged with a deeper, more powerful emotion. “A
journey through time…”

The three of them stood before him, fixed in
the mesmerizing intensity of his gaze.

“The three of you are our youngest, and also
our most important as of now.” he said softly. “The time has come
for me to tell you … everything. The entire story that has now
placed us in the position we’re now in. the story of how, why and
what … the story this current world of chaos and division.” The
only faint sound heard other than his voice was the gentle rustling
of the wind.

“I’m going to tell you the story,” Mantra’s
elderly face was kindled with a trace of light as he smiled. “of
the great empire of Sirengard. The story of how everything came to
be … and not to be.”

“We’ve heard this, master.” said Qyro. “The
story of Sirengard … and the Nyon, and the Xeni who came after
them.”

Mantra held Qyro’s gaze for a silent moment,
before shaking his head.

“No, Qyro. What you heard is not even a
small portion of everything, what you heard is
nothing
.”
Mantra’s eyes moved across the three of them, and he then gave a
painful smile. “You see, the Xeni did not come
after
the
Nyon. The Xeni came
because
of the Nyon.”

Ion needed a moment or two to struggle with
what he had heard, before the blast of shock came.

“
What?
” Qyro and Vestra gasped
together.

Mantra took the space of three seconds to
fill his lungs in a deep, chest heaving breath.

“My dear disciples, listen closely. For I am
now going to retell a tale that has haunted our world for eight
millennia now.”

__________

All along, Pavio had been fighting down his
squirming fear, as he looked into those empty eye sockets. With
nothing but an endless dark pit lying behind both of them.

“… and they took the crystal.” he concluded
his account slowly.

Zardin’s black eyesockets hadn’t moved an
inch off Pavio’s face the whole time … almost as though he could
see exactly where Pavio stood, despite having no eyes.

“They took the crystal.” he repeated in the
soft, sharp hiss he had for a voice.

Some of the other rebels standing about the
large room shifted as that sound filled the room.

Behind Zardin, standing spread out over the
room were a group of men in black cloaks, most of them hooded. They
were all watching silently as their leader stood in front of Pavio,
listening to what had happened.

“In a more appropriate version,” said
Zardin, his eyeless dark pits seeming to bore into Pavio from
between his curtains of long black hair. “You
let
them take
the crystal.”

“My - my lord,” said Pavio, feeling his
heart flutter in his ribs. “They … they completely took us
unawares. There were two of them, we had them captured. But a third
one interfered and saved the other two.”