December 16, 2111
Catharine Darcrose
Side hatches of the dropship still open, Cathy gazed out on the land in the Tolkran Kingdom as the wind caressed her face. Direclaw was visible in the distance, the capital and strongest fort in the Tolkran Kingdom. The walls were magnificent, tall, and guarded; blocked, darkened stone powered by a field of energy and towering above the lands like a fruit tree over a desert. The capital was on fortified land, terminated on the south by a ridge of mountains hundreds of kilometers high, which are altogether impassable, due to the volcanoes upon the tops. Two of the other sides were surrounded by open farmland and several large villages which looked to be bustling with activity and trade. The last side touched a sea as far as the eye could see. There was one seaport in the whole kingdom built around patches of jagged rocks. The sea looked so rough, there was no venturing outward without the use of massive ships.
The dropship landed in a shipyard near the castle. It was wild with life. Ships of all designs were coming and going, nearly all covered in sigils and markings designating they belonged to a house. Omelics left and right; citizens, common folk, knights, lords, traders, and a many more.
There was a security check from the shipyard to the castle they had to pass. They did with no trouble. Outside to shipyard, wagons and riders were still pouring through the castle gates, and the yard was a chaos of mud and horseflesh and shouting men.
It is common knowledge omelics and humans are similar in many things up to and including appearances. So much so, humans and omelics can sometimes successfully have an offspring together. Such a thing was still considered taboo to both cultures. There were, however, obvious differences, such as skin tone, less body hair, hair and eye colors, and those black markings that were natural on their skin. Though, looking over the crowd, Cathy's sharp eye could see ever so slight differences in body type. On average, omelic men carry broader shoulders, slightly wider feet and hands, and denser muscle definition. Women, on the other hand, are more likely to have wide hips and fit bodies. When taking into consideration the omelic culture, it makes sense. Darwin's theory and all.
Leading up to the castle lay a market square. Manses and bowers and granaries, smithhouses and starship depots and intergalactic pawnshops, brick warehouses and timbered taprooms and merchant's booths, taverns and cemeteries and brothels, all piled one on another. With a finer eye, Cathy could see the market was skewed. Everything close the castle was richer in design and clientele. However, as the market continued away from the castle, dropping down hilled roads, so too did the quality drop.
"Nice to see so much activity," Cathy said to the knight guiding her.
"It never gets old does it? Not long ago, these roads hardly felt the patter of feet."
As they went through the right edge of the market square leading to the keep, Cathy could hear the clamor of the fish market even at this distance. Between the buildings were broad roads lined with trees, wandering crookback streets, and alleys so narrow, two men could not walk shoulder to shoulder.
The knight led her and Skolla inside Wolph Castle. When they reached the gate to the throne room, one of the guards welcomed them. "Welcome to the Tolkran Kingdom," he said. "I have been informed the king would like to meet you."
She entered the Great Hall, a large, cavernous room. Its entrance was made up of two huge bronze and wood doors. The White Throne sat on the opposite side, atop a raised dais where two sets of wide steps of rough black stone led up to the throne. Decorative, lavish chairs were placed in a row to the right of the throne for use by members of the king's council. Above the throne, hung as high as can be, was the sigil of the king; a red-eyed direwolf, white fur, over a snowed field - the sigil of House Wolph. Vaulted ceilings with massive arches and columns towered over the patterned marble floor. A raised gallery connecting other areas of the castle lay to the right of the throne. Decorative stain-glassed windows depicting former kings and their accomplishments lined the left wall, lighting the room in a multitude of colorful light that danced across the room.
King Kaydon leaned back on his throne as he awaited her approach, leg resting on a padded leg stool. He was thin for an omelic male, not much muscle either, which was surprising given he was royal. However, much could be hidden due to the thick clothes and cloak he wore. There was just a small patch of black streaks below his nose and another between his eyebrows, making it seem as if he had a unibrow.
A nearby royal knight informed her, "You stand before King Kaydon, king of the Tolkran Kingdom and head of House Wolph."
"Your Grace." Cathy bowed. "I was told you wanted to meet with me."
King Kaydon half-grinned. "There is no need for such formality. You'll find me quite approachable."
Cathy tipped her head in appreciation.
"Besides, I wanted to see our honored guest firsthand. It isn't often outsiders visit our world, and even less so to our kingdom. Though I heard there were to be five of you total and a--" his eyes locked onto the warwolf, "--wolf. Ironic; a wolf in Wolph Castle." He smiled.
Cathy's expression grew mournful. "The rest--"
"--died before we arrived," her guide finished the sentence for Cathy.
"Oh, I'm quite remorseful to hear that. My well-wishes go out to their families and friends," the king said. "Is there anything I can do for you, Cathy?"
"Point me to where I can start my research. I wish to start immediately."
"As you wish." King Kaydon gestured to the knight. "Escort our guest to Saulomon's Temple."
He nodded and approached Cathy. "If you will, follow me."
"Lead the way," Cathy responded.
He marched onward.
Skolla and Cathy were led through a few halls before they arrived at the wooden double doors that led inside the temple. He pushed them open. "Find our Master of Scrolls, Kaizerious. He runs the daily operations here and can help you with your study, for he himself has already taken an interest in the topic you seek."
"How will I know what he looks like?"
"He is the only non-omelic in the room, and, ah… the tallest. Hard to miss, he is." The knight chuckled. He then left her.
She began walking through row after row of old books, scrolls, manuals. You name it, it was there. Saulomon's Temple housed all the knowledge, stories, and teachings of this kingdom's omelic ancestors. That was the claim anyway.
There was a section entitled "Hyperswords," that caught her eye. She pulled out the first book she saw. "Guide to Building a Hypersword." On the cover was a picture similar to the swords she saw those knights wielding before arriving at Direclaw.
Hyperswords, she remembered reading that word long ago during a time when her mother forced her to read omelic history and culture. Hyperswords, the chosen weapons of knights, lords, and kings.
She started rummaging through a few books, reading the titles:
Hyperswords & the Science
All 9 Blade Shades in Detail
The Eight Combat Styles for True Swordsmen
A Many Framing Techniques to Build your Hypersword
Lost & Legendary: The 4 Mystical Blade Shades
Triangle of Ren: An Experimental Study
All of it looked so rich and interesting to read and research. To her disappointment, she hadn't the time to mess with it. She needed to focus on the mission at hand, the one that had claimed her team. She needed to find clues to the location of the Brotherhood of Relics. She put away the books and left that section.
As she continued searching for Kaizerious, she stumbled on a steel gated section of the temple. She looked around; only her warwolf was in sight. Quickly, she pulled a utility kit from one of her pouches and used a few tools to pick the lock. It took some time, and she struggled. A few broken pins before she had it unlocked.
Now inside, she began to look through some of the texts. She started with a row entitled "Reign of King Kaylob" and began pulling everything she could get her hands on. The writing was in ancient umomah, an outdated omelic language, and was too smeared and distorted for the cyberwatch to translate. Lucky for her, her mother had her trained in various omelic languages, including this one. Though tough to decipher, she was able to read the words.
She took a seat a nearby reading table with arms full of material to research, Skolla at her heel. She was surprised to see stuff was already laid over the table, some open, but most of it was closed. She started with a journal she pulled earlier, written by Arkenlord Izayhah Hartmon, and flipped to a random page.
Our kingdom continues its decline. King Kaylob hasn't been the same since that dreadful day, and now turns to drinks. He spends most days in a tavern, drinking his emotions away. If things continue down this way, I fear our great kingdom will fall to ruin, cursed by the leadership of a drunk fool.
The material was familiar to Cathy. She recalled hearing about the fall of the Tolkran Kingdom during Kaylob Wolph's reign during her studies of the omelic species. Even so, it wasn't going to help her.
The next book she pulled was entitled "Time, Reality, Existence, & Death: 4 Constants of the Universe." Theory work, nothing more, and not much useful.
She pulled a collection of tattered scrolls part of a collection. "A Man Who Dreamt Hell," the collection of scrolls were titled, authored by Arkenlord Mozaru Vox. Each in a series of at least five total. Was this fiction similar to The Inferno? Too bad it would likely not be of help to her. Thus she had no time for it. Among the table, she noticed a particularly dulled and worn journey; black and full of cresses. A rectangular image of a hand-drawn enormous warehouse of scrolls and knowledge was stitched to the cover of the journey.
Cathy turned to the first page, and there were inked words in small print. She read in her head:
The fire consumed it. A sea of red, yellow, and orange. A smoke cloud that covered more height and distance than a volcanic eruption. I saved what I could. It wasn't much. For the great Mousseion burned to the ground that night. With it burned all the knowledge it held. All of it, except what lays in this journal.
Cathy did a quick flip through of the journal and was surprised to see the rest of the pages were full of burnt pieces of paper that were stitched to each page in the journey. When she turned back to the second page, she began to read what she could inside, but some of it was burnt and scorched:
I dreamt I was the enemy, walking in their skin. The enemy - the dxxxxxxx to my xxxxx. A xxxxn born of the dead. In the dream, I walked on a lone path of glass and rock, beneath the blossoms. At thx end of the path grew a flower in the shape of a gray pulsing heart. Unable to shake the trance, I reached out to pluck it, and it cut me with a thorn. I bled and the blood was xxack like ink. The flower said to me, "You are x dead thing made by a dead powxx in the shape of the dead… all you will ever do is plague the universe… you do not belong here; this is a sacred place - a place untainted and balanced."
I responded, "You're wrong. I'm born of xxxxt and not death. Yxu're a creature devoid of a soul, and you seek to deceive me." But I looked down on myself and realized I was no longer a xxxxx. I was me again, an xxxxx. And my cut now bled white.
The flower repeated, "You are a dead thing made by a dead power in the shape of the dead… all you will ever do is plague the universe… you do not belong here; this is a xxxxxx place - a place untainted and balanced."
I looked behind me, down the long slope where the blossoms tumbled in the war wind, and the great trees wept sap like blood or wine, and I felt doubt. When I awoke again by the sea, there was a thorn-cut on my left hand, and it has not healed since.
-- Lady Serafina Lxxxxxxxxxx
Cathy flipped the page. There was more:
My dreams have gotten worse. No, I can no longer call them dreams, they are nightmares. The looming threat of the enemy of the Prism of Life haunts every second of my dreams, every restless night. They are a flood, held at bay by a dam. But I can see the cracks forming, and I'm helpless to stop it. The Trixxlation will be upon us. For the last 'seven' of the seventy 'sevens' has yet to be spoken. They will come again. And I fear our galaxy will not be ready for them.
There was a time when I tried warning beings of twxxxght. I tried warning countless civilians. They called me a witch, zealot, radical, doomsday spxxker. To them, I'm insane. So I gave up trying to convince the crowd of underdeveloped beings of xxxlxxht. I'm from a different time, after all. A time of lixxx, dxxxxess, and more. A time of Xxxx Wars and miracles. And there is one miracle that still holds my heart. A man placed out of time; my love, my Gxxxx. I will wait for him.
-- Lady Serafina Xxxxxxxxxne
Caught up in the text, Cathy was startled as the gate slid open and heavy footsteps thumped from around the corner. "I see our guest has arrived. If you wanted to get back here, all you needed to do was ask." The man spoke just as he revealed himself. His voice was deep, and he spoke with a harsh and hesitant tone; each word came slow but had a ring to it, like it was stuck on a specific emotion that was trapped in each word.
She stood up and tilted her head in respect. "I got a bit curious and carried away. I'm Cathy Darcrose, in case you couldn't already tell."
The being before her was larger than any intelligent species she had seen before. If she were standing, her head would only come to his waist, and she was taller than an average human woman. She could stretch out her arms, and her wingspan would barely measure the width of this behemoth of a being. And his appearance was intimidating; jagged skin that almost had an uneven crystal-like texture to it, smoky black highlighted heavily with an ice blue. Parts of his body, especially around the limbs and eyes, carried characteristics of a maelkii, only larger.
"I take it you're Kaizerious." Cathy's eyes studied him, though she believed she knew the answer.
He nodded. "I am." He then sat opposite of her. She hadn't realized until he sat that the chair was much larger and sturdier than hers. He must have been back here before. Probably why some material was already spread on the table when she arrived.
Her eyes studied Kaizerious. Never had she seen anything like him. If he was to be trusted, she would have to get to know him a bit better. "You're big." Cathy shook her head. "I have never seen anyone like you before."
Kaizerious expended a wry laugh. "You're not the first to say that. As it happens, I'm the last of my kind."
"Really? I'm sorry to hear that. I hope I'm not stepping over the line by asking what happened."
There was moment of silence as he lingered on what she asked. He then cleared his throat. "A catastrophe happened - genocide. Not something I talk about. I still carry the scars, you see."
"Sorry. I didn't mean to push." She paused to take a breath. "Strange, though. Omelics never seemed the type to allow outsiders a seat at their king's council, Master of Scrolls." Her eyebrow rose.
"I think you'll find this kingdom isn't like many of the others," he responded. That wasn't the first time she heard that. Stands to reason he wouldn't be lying, then.
"So why, then? Why would a place like this interest you?"
Kaizerious eyes glared toward the stack of books. He spoke with soft words. "My interest is the same as you: To take care of those I care for." Cathy stared for a moment. Her mind was on her lost sister. Kaizerious continued. "I may be the last of my kind, but I still have those that I love."
"How did you know? How did you know I am here for family? That this isn't just a mission to me? It is possible hope."
"When you're as old as me, you start to sense patterns in people… see motives in their eyes."
"And how old are you?"
"I've lost count. Slow aging is a trait of my species."
"That's a gift not many species have."
"I like to think I spend it well. It's allowed me time, lots of time, to really understand life in this galaxy clearly. And I'm thankful. That clarity is the reason I can take care of all of whom that are dear to me."
"Even if I had time, I'm not sure I'd benefit much from it. Life for me has been a series challenges. So I've not had the luxury of thinking about my life long term."
"What challenge do you face right now?"
"Finding the Brotherhood of Relics, delivering a message to them, and then finding my sister."
"And once she is found?" he pushed.
"That's just it. I don't know. I mean, how could I… this war… the Wersillian War-- I may not get to see the end of it, so why should I try to think past it?"
"You really believe you will not live through the war?"
"I mean, I hope I do… that's really all I can… all anyone can. Until the day the war ends, I follow orders and do my duty for those I care about."
"You carry yourself with strength. In my experience, people like you survive more often than not."
Doubtful, Cathy thought, if only he knew of her family's cursed past and burden. "Strong? Me? I look nothing of the sort compared to you."
He smirked. "You mistake me, Cathy. I am no fighter. I have not fought anyone in decades. And I never wish to in the future."
Cathy was surprised. "With your size and strength, I would've imagined you would've been a great warrior."
"Maybe in another life."
Cathy smiled. "You know, you are an interest to be around. And I don't really say that about a lot of people."
"I appreciate your compliment. And please, Cathy, allow me to assist you."
Cathy nodded and said, "I just got started looking into the reign of King Kaylob, and from what I understand, he was supposedly the king of the Tolkran Kingdom during the time when the Brotherhood of Relics started."
"You're right."
"Any advice?"
He looked to the book she held. "I recommend tossing that. It won't help you with your task." From the pile, he handed her a thin book that was old and held together by breaking seams. It was untitled, and the cover was a blank red.
Cathy thumbed to the first bookmarked page and saw a section circled. She read:
February 30, 2084
King Garrol, first of his name, rightful king of the Tolkran Kingdom, Sword of Spikes; has theorized that the Tolkran Kingdom is cursed. He believes it runs far back… as far back as the reign of King Kaylob. This information has been entrusted to me and me alone.
Cathy finished reading the circled text. She looked up from the pages. "Who's the author?"
"It never says," Kaizerious answered. "I found it hidden in this locked room and circled the useful information from it."
There were more bookmarked pages. Cathy turned to the next one and began reading from the circled text:
October 18, 2092
King Garrol commanded I follow him. I didn't know any details of where he wanted to go or what he intended to do. All that was found out later.
It was a meeting. Far below Wolph Castle, hidden deep in a dark alleyway of a deserted part of the stronghold. It was just the king and me, and I was on edge. No guards to accompany us.
We waited for a long time, longer than a king should ever have to wait for someone. King Garrol was determined. I saw this in his grit.
Eventually an athletic man showed. He didn't look omelic - his skin was tan in color, hair golden-brown, and some of his physical appearance did not fit, such as his arms and fingers and claws. Hidden behind a black spiral-patterned mask that focused and spiraled around the eyeholes, only his golden irises were visible. Clothed in a kilt that was lopsided, much of the rest of his body was wrapped with tape-fabric.
"You're Reality?" King Garrol asked.
"One of many names I've been called," the man confirmed.
"What took you so long?"
"Another deal. It took longer than anticipated." Reality's tone and accent were new to me. Ancient and of a time long ago.
"I've waited for this moment for ten years. Long have I been searching for the mythical creature know as Reality, the Wish-Granter, the Man-a-Mystery." King Garrol bowed to give respect. I joined so as not to look out of place.
"Now that you've found me, what is your wish?"
"I want the Tolkran Kingdom to return to its former glory. I want whatever curse on my kingdom lifted."
"That's two requests. I can grant you one."
"Then tell me, is my kingdom cursed as I believe it to be?"
"The simple answer is yes. The long answer, I'm afraid, is far more complicated."
"Then remove the curse. That's my wish."
"Do you know what it will cost you?"
"I've read the stories. I know."
Reality and King Garrol made a deal that day. Reality conjured up a golden, double ankh pendant for both to grip on either side. The deal was made, and Reality's glowing eyes brightened for a moment.
"The curse has been lifted. What befalls your kingdom will now entirely be up to your choices henceforth." Reality left us there.
There was one more bookmarked page that Cathy turned to and read from:
January 13, 2094
The events of December 18, 2092 still occupy my thoughts. I had no idea that Garrol was looking for this mystical creature for ten years. What exactly befell that night still keeps me up in my bed. Garrol never told me anything more on the subject, even when I asked. He is dead now, and I'm the only one left who knows. One thing I am happy to see: Our kingdom is on the rise again for the first time in my lifetime.
Cathy closed the book. "Curses, Reality. All seems like a bit too much."
"My thoughts were that the creature called Reality was a member of the Brotherhood of Relics."
"Really, now?"
"Just a hunch. No more than that, I admit." Kaizerious gave pause. "I have more clues that I left back in my chambers. I can bring them to you tomorrow if you're interested."
Cathy gave a nod to show she was. In the meantime, she and he spent much of their time looking over the pile of books on the table. She spent the rest of the day researching and putting together clues, with Kaizerious's aid.