Silver cathedral saga, p.14
Silver Cathedral Saga, page 14
The thunderous noises of feet continued to go on, even as they past the shadow figures, they could still hear them.
Ematay quickly looked at his map, making sure to clutch at it tighter than the Swan he was steering; he knew too much depended on this piece of parchment now. Everything was on him, his team, Eleanor and Christian.
The wings and colour of the War Swans blended in with the clouds to create the kind of camouflage they needed to get far away from the marching army. But what awaited them was a whole other story.
The Escapist
The little bits of sun were brought in once again by the pull of both his large curtains.
It shone on his face, making his paleness all the more noticeable. It didn’t take much of an observer to see he hated the light.
Etch shot up, sitting on his luxuriously large bed. He tried to block the light upon his skin, and threw himself down on the bed like he would do every morning, flinging the covers back over himself.
“I’m not getting up,” said the Prince. His hair was ruffled and out of place, not like he would normally be seen around the Silver Cathedral.
“My lord, you’re to get up. Your father wants to see you now. And I am not going upstairs to get shouted at for not getting you to do something what you could get over with quickly.”
He groaned, sounding as if he cried for some moments; not feeling the pull of life take him or wanting to move.
The male Spell-caster who was on royal duty today turned his head to the prince’s cupboard when a rattling emerged from inside. He looked stunned, not sure what to say, flicking his eyes back and forth between where it came from and the bed.
The prince answered before the servant even spoke.
“It’s just my alarm,” he said, peeking his head out of the sheets quickly.
“Then why is it shut up inside your cupboard?” The Spell-caster went to fetch it as it continued to go, but not at regular intervals like an alarm would normally do. Then, it suddenly stopped; him being only some steps away from the door.
“No,” shouted the prince, ignoring the question. There was an immense amount of concern that jumped into his voice, making him sound sharp and loud. “Please. Just leave it. I like it in there.”
The man looked to the cupboard once more when the prince exited the bed. “I’m up, look. Just go tell my father I will be down in some minutes.”
The man noticed the paleness on prince Etch’s face and looked concerned now. “Are you okay my lord?” said the young man on royal duty. “You look as if all the colour has been drained out of you.”
“I’m fine, really. Just a little tired still. I’ll just make sure I take a nap later on. I’ll be fine.”
The man continued to look at the prince as he got dressed and moved away from the cupboard. The sound went off again inside, only it was more vicious, and much, much longer. He still continued to walk away, but looked back to it before he got near the front door.
“Just go already,” yelled the prince, “I’ll sort it out,” calming his voice down to a reasonable level. The man flinched at the screaming aimed at him as Etch got his shirt on and ran off, closing the large two wooden silver doors that were already open.
Prince Etch was nearly ready.
He needed to put his boots on, but instead of doing so he went to his bed and sat on it, putting his hands on his head, sighing. It seemed he looked to the floor, but didn’t pay any attention to the the stone slabs that made it up, or the great emerald rug that ran through the half of the room with his bed on. The other half was just stone, where his clothes and possessions laid; his wardrobe.
He heard the rattling finally stop inside the wardrobe now. It had gone on for nearly a minute this time, but didn’t look at the cupboard. Instead, he got up and went over to it, looking at it as he done so.
Moving slowly to the noise, Etch heard the clang of metal rattle against the stone floor. Inside was quite dark, but he seemed to know where it was as he picked it up straight away
Etch grabbed this small looking trinket. It looked much like a handheld cage. A cage which could fit into an Astorian’s single palm. And inside was a single, small creature: A grey, bluish creature that was well known on Astora for all the wrong reasons.
By now, this small being was yelling in some fast gibberish language he did not understand. He just responded with shaking his head, following a large smile—all before he shook the cage above his head. Vigorously.
There was sprinkles of dust. Of silver dust that seemed to be ignited by little rays shooting through his window, making it look mystically breathtaking beyond any understood words known to humanoids.
He closed his eyes as the dust glowed when it hit his head. His deep breaths got lessened the longer he shook the small cage with the creature inside.
Then, he opened his eye lids. His eyes looked relaxed, and taking a deep breath he seemed content—once more.
Madam Mansion
Ematay’s group of Spell-casters managed to lose sight of the Shadows. For now.
They all lowered their War Swans closer to where the stream laid near the earth and canal.
It seemed as if more and more clouds formed as they went closer to this ongoing path of water.
Eleanor noticed on the papyrus paper map, was black ink dividing the land up into two parts: The north and south. It became quite clear that the Canary Canal went full circle; all the way around their world. There was also a small, thin but long part at the edge at the right, to the east. Which seemed to have three villagers. Each with a bridge going over. The finder also noticed the canal went into the mountain. She probably wouldn’t have figured it out without asking, but written on the map was the words, ‘canal starts from beneath the mountain’, explaining a lot, easing some sense in.
They all stopped declining, though were some way up and above the land still.
“We’re not far now,” shouted Ematay; his thoughts echoed on his words and wondered if any Shadows would have heard his screaming at this range. He prayed in mind that was not so.
The group all travelled for several minutes before Ematay pointed to the water. Eleanor became curious as to how he knew exactly where the entrance to Madame Mansion was. Especially when there was no unique markings to give it away.
They all turned right, and began to see a bridge in the distance becoming more apparent.
Emerging out of nowhere were the most reddest of roses any eyes could take in to remember. They were rich in number on the other side of this bridge, where a village must have been. It was hard not to notice such a vibrant red. Even at this height and through the thick clogs.
“How do you know it’s there? It looks no different to any other part of the canal,” asked Eleanor.
“It’s not always about looks. Hold out your hands at the side and feel what is beneath you,” replied the Star-caster.
She only used one hand, the other held onto Christian so she would not fall. The young female let her fingers feel the air’s breeze pass by as they moved and hoped she would soon feel something instead of seeing it.
Eleanor felt no different. Only the wind moved her hand around as they flew fast plunging forward.
“I feel nothing,” she replied.
“In time you will learn to cancel all preconceived thoughts of the world, and see things very differently. It all comes to us at a different time. I’m sure it will be soon enough before you both endure such a thing.”
They all began to lower themselves on their swans again; Christian tried to imitate this. It took a little time, but he got there. He didn’t dive as sudden as the rest, though still managed to get on the same level as them again, eventually.
The group must have all been only ten feet from the water now. The smell of the canal, potent, and the level of water around was stagnant and rife from its high density. They were climbing nearer the field of roses.
There was a wooden bridge that could be seen well enough now for everybody. They seem to appear atypical, dull. As if it had been rained upon too many times and had decided to stay dark and dismal, almost as if to spite these eyes.
“Just fly under that bridge,” said Ematay; he pointed again and only just realised there was no thunderous noise that frightened him from the difficult to believe number from their enemy.
“Are you serious?” replied Christian, not sure what to do.
“Just watch me,” said the Beast-caster in control of his own War Swan hearing the conversation. The female kicked her feet, and flew even faster before the rest of them. She went a little to the right, out of the way of her comrades, then swooped into the little gap under the bridge.
The War Swan and the Beast-caster Adea faded away.
The creatures full body was soon gone, and the mouths of the little ones opened in amazement once more at yet another thing they had discovered.
The other four Swans went through before Eleanor and Christian; they seemed to be slowing down as they got nearer, not speeding up like the rest had done.
“Let’s get this over with,” said Christian. He directed the War Swan as narrow as he could, like he saw the others do before him; also, the wings couldn’t be caught on the banks of the canal when they went through.
Christian imagined the swan tucked its wings in so it would fit through the gap okay. Although they saw that the portal was not just under the bridge.
The children’s swan dived to this gap under the bridge. Christian wanted to close his eyes, but he knew it would have been too dangerous to do so. Instead, Eleanor closed her eyes for the both of them. He knew she would do. The risk of damaging this living transport would be too great. They couldn’t let it become damaged and slow their travelling. If he let that happen, Christian knew a bad fate would soon enough come to them.
The times were too great. Peril was upon a knife, like a beckoned poison had wanted to lure them with a timely demise. A poison so fatal and so strong it would kill upon a mere touch. This touch of the Shadows.
The two of them flinched at the same time as Eleanor grabbed tighter around Christian’s waist. Eleanor let out a high pitched squeal as she opened her eyes for a brief second to see if they were there yet.
The transition between where they were and where they were going was speedy. Their minds worked it up for what they thought was nothing in the end.
Christian saw the mansion Ematay spoke of about fifty feet in front of them, near the others. It looked as if they were underground somewhere, even though there was a grand amount of grass before the structure.
“I see you got here in one piece,” said the grown-up Battle-caster.
“Do not pay any attention to her,” said Ematay. “She is just entertaining herself. As usual. I doubt she will ever change now.”
“We need to take the swans to the stable,” said Ematay, moving things along. “and feed them their salt marsh grass and molluscs. We always have a good supply here. A lot of us stop by on long journeys to gather our strength, both our swans and ourselves,” he said, looking at Christian and Eleanor.
They all grabbed the reins of their War Swans they all got off and guided them to the mansion, to the right side, where the stable stood.
Something at this time both the children saw looked rather odd. These giant white, big birds that flew with their beautiful, lengthy wings that glided gracefully upon the air’s current stood out in a better way than when these creatures walked in front of them now. It appeared as if these birds were supposed to fly more so than walk. If anyone were to see the same War Swan walk on land and in flight through the sky—it would bring a surprise to new onlookers.
They all tied the large creatures up and filled up a wooden bucket with marsh grass and molluscs from the canal for each.
All eight then left the stable, which was not a part of the mansion, and more of a wooden extension that was attached.
The mansion was made not of stone, nor of wood or straw and mud, but of a gleaming marble. A marble that radiated with a white; so pure and clean that it looked as if it lit up the underground gloom around them for some distance.
White marble stairs led up to five tall columns, keeping up the entrance to the mansion.
Eleanor and Christian were at a loss with what to say about such a place, walking up slowly.
“Quite luring, yes?” said Ematay near the two children as he approached the large white carved in doors, not doors like the children had seen before. There was no sign it could and would open. Though it looked as if this was where they should be. “This was once the home to Starao herself; well, at one point in time. Now it awaits the blood of the demi god. The once talked about descendant of Starao. All that is left of her. Though it seems they must have been mere rumors because no such person has revealed themselves. So we believe the descendant must have died at some point.”
“How do you know that?” asked Eleanor.
“Because she wrote it down in a book. She called this mansion the home of good. Because if true evil ever set foot inside it’s door, it would shut them in—forever. And she shared quite warm stories about her child, though never mentioned its name or gender. I guess for both their protection.”
“How do we get through?” said Eleanor, looking at where the doors should be. “It looks like these were meant to be doors… but they don’t look like they even open.”
“That is because they do not; at least not in the conventional way. It is a portal that tests the good of those whoever go through,” replied the Beast-caster before looking upon something on herself for several seconds. She checked more than once to make sure it was there, yet only Eleanor noticed this.
“Let’s head inside. Time is ticking,” said Lauretta. They all got nearer the archway where the doors should be. The two children looked at it with a hesitant glare that manifested from another place of uncertainty in the back of their heads.
“What are you waiting for?” said Ematay to the children. Christian shrugged, whilst Eleanor just raised her eyebrows to say the obvious about what she was in fact waiting for.
“You have nothing to worry about. I’ve journeyed with you both. There is no way you will be imprisoned inside. He pushed them along but came with them, all in one quick stroke. They fretted, wanting to turn back before they got in, but it was all too late.
“This house has a mind of its own. To be more accurate, it is more like a conscience of its own,” said Dak: Being the last thing the first three that entered Madame Mansion heard
Eleanor and Christian looked back to the portal and made sure to keep an eye on it. The female said what was on both their minds as soon as they possibly could. “We have a reason to believe one of these Spell-casters you are with is a traitor. And possibly more than…” one of the Spell-casters came through with a buzzing sound as they done so, just like when they came through.
Ematay, Christian and Eleanor just looked at each other one more time, before starring at the rest of them in the direction they came.
Quickly, Eleanor thought to cover their suspicious silence with something new as most came through: “The reason we were both afraid to come inside was because we were hardly perfect children.” She then turned to the Spell-casters, “I don’t think you have introduced us. It would be rude not to.”
“Oh, of course,” said Ematay. “Adea here is our Beast-caster. Dak our Battle-caster, and Lauretta our Fire-caster. “The female Edeolon Warrior is Selphira, and male, Oddius”
“Edeolon Warriors,” said Eleanor.
“You’re having a laugh,” said Christian. “Few Astorians have even seen a dead Edeolon Warrior, never mind an alive one—but two.”
“Don’t doubt our trust,” said the male Edeolon Warrior, also known by the common folk as the Warriors of Faith. “We will prove it all in time,” sounding certain with himself.
“I only hope you are telling the truth. We could use your kind of power in the struggles ahead,” said the Battle-caster. “They will be challenging at the easiest of times, no doubt about it.”
“We are the Warriors of Faith,” said the female Edeolon. “Faith is our ally. And a mighty one it is.”
“Anyway,” said Ematay. “You haven’t told us your magickal abilities.”
“I have a very specific power set from space magick. I can create gravity wells. I can control the very flow of gravity,” smiled Oddius. “Hence why I have outlived my comrades of old.”
“I can imagine we could make use of those powers a great deal,” said Eleanor. Ematay pushed the child back, to quiet her in these times, as if Ematay was trying to hang onto something he just found.
“And you?” said Ematay to the other, the female.
“Faith may be our ally,” she said to her friend, touching his arm, “but we were always more than that. Edeolon Warriors are leaps and bounds more advanced than the most smartest of beings, in all aspects they decide to put their minds to. We adapt with an unnaturally fast speed. Gone are the days when we were once cast aside as monsters in the past. The gods of Edeolon chose to use us Millenium Children to their advantage. To create the ultimate weapons of good.”
“You’ve never met a god, have you?” said Ematay. They both shook their heads. “They are not so much good, nor evil. I guess you could say they are one; both. They are just like ourselves, in more ways than you can imagine. They are hardly perfect.”
“A perfect being—is an unbelievable being,” said Selphira, the female Edeolon Warrior.
“Too true,” said Christian, speaking in the moment but not meaning to.
Ematay ignored the words from the child. “You still haven’t told us your power, Warrior of Faith.”
“I can do more than one thing,” said the female warrior. “I’m like your Beast-caster here. I can take the forms of beasts—but unlike beast-casters—I can take the form and abilities of any being I see or have seen. Not just from ones nearby. And as you will all know I am one with natures life; the wild part of it. Creatures of the wild here me, they help. We have an understanding no Beast-caster is willing to explain in detail. The connection between Beast-casters and life is an important one. A one which can be just as painful—yet just as useful.”
