Silver cathedral saga, p.22
Silver Cathedral Saga, page 22
The full ten floored room was standing tall, cheering, even with a hundred men it sounded like there was so much more; as their echoes made them so loud and deafening, frightening, trembling the walls around not just the Ready Room, but down the halls, corridors and rooms near.
The crowd continued to cheer as this knight the king sent on an errand returned. The one he told to find his wife. He turned to him:
“She is not here, my lord. The servants don’t even know of her where abouts. She seems to be missing.”
“No, I wish she was missing; there would be a chance of her survival then. No. I know where she is.” The king yells again. “Helmets on,” said the protector of Astora.
The two there go to their posts, the rest waiting.
The king mounted his swan first. “Ready yourselves,” said the king to the rest. His sword poked at the swan’s left side. The others, on the opposite.
They all soon enough were mounted upon their War Swans. Each person looked down as the floor in the middle, the circular platform, opened up with a slow but steady movement, with the sound of stone scraping and crawling.
Each saw outside, below. The ten mighty levels were then gushing with a sudden breeze. They all looked down to see no clouds there, only the Shade Sea with little specks of light.
“Ride my Swan Knights,” said the king loud and forceful. The ones at the bottom went first, as if they had always done; because they were taught to derail form the bottom layer to the top. One layer flew off, then another, then another and another, until all ten had fallen through the air, two or three at a time, falling through the hole in what was once part of the ground.
Their numbers looked few from afar, but potent: As large wings made the War Swans look monstrous and dangerous; even though their white beauty was unrivalled.
There was two, then four, then six, until a little area on the Shade Sea was covered in War Swans, them riding up as soon as they leapt down from the Sky Room.
At a distance it looked as if it held a portrait in motion in the real world, one which would be placed onto the Silver Cathedral’s wall itself. With few rays of light shining from above, in just a few tiny specks, swans in motion coming out the Silver Cathedral fortress, some flying up to get to the hole that could be seen far in the distance.
They all shot up, two or three at a time again through the hole that took them to the land, and went and started their short journey to Swansie. Where they knew the last stand would begin.
It was only one hour later after the king had left with the Swan Knights—that another something took hold.
A sudden wake of waves flustered beneath the cathedral for some time, even before the Swan Knights left.
All before hundreds of anchors with large, strong chains attached to them were flung up into air, penetrating the rock part of the floating Silver Cathedral with ease, latching on. Giving whatever was beneath the water—a way up. It seemed whatever was beneath the sea… was waiting all this time until the War Swan riders left.
Synced Up
The Swans got to the Silver Cathedral in nearly five hours by the speed of large angellike wings flapping almost simultaneously together next to one another.
They broke apart as they dived below the hole that led them under the earth, and to the land of the Shade Sea.
They noticed the large doors were open in front of them, ready to return. Not the ones beneath the floor, the ones that were not open. These were on one side of the wall and were huge. Easy to fit two swans in at a time, though they only done it one at a time.
Christian noticed as the swan got near the stable from where it came, that it seemed to go on a kind of autopilot and landed on the exact place at which they took off, the same platform they dived away from when the Battle-caster tried to stop them.
They all landed now, and got off, not even fastening the reins, as the swans would not take off so easy or carelessly here; here is where they felt safe. The swans ate as soon as the latter Astorians got off their transport.
They all met at the lower level, at where the floor would open for them to leave on swanback.
They were all about to leave, but Ematay nodded and held out his arm straight in alarm. “It’s too quiet. This can’t be right. Even if the armies are away, the Spell-casters should still be here, and there are hundreds of loyals.”
“They are here,” said Oddius, “like captain Mileena said.”
“Be on your quickest guard. The Anchor Men will be rageful, bitter and full of misery. And possibly could be still hallucinating from the residual magick.”
They all moved as cautiously as they could now, still trying to make it to the location the swan needed to be placed. Ematay opened the map as quick as his nimble hands allowed him, and their was a light where they were, only the map changed to a image of the cathedral now. The light changed places with a dim, then a sudden glow appeared somewhere else entirely.
“This light shows us where this specific stone swan belongs. It looks like it is up two more levels; in the outside garden by the looks of it.”
“Then that’s where we must go,” said Christian. They all seemed to ignore his words, and carried on to the stairs. When they got there, their eyes were not impressed with the stairs in front again; though these were not so bad, as they were not deep; not like the stairs to the Heart of the Mountain.
They all ran up the stairs as fast as they could, in some ways they longed for the deep stairs; because then their movements then made some kind of dent in moving to where they needed. They stopped when they got to the right floor.
There was nobody, but the scraping of something—something heavy and being pulled, making a clanking sound. It was quite slow, and all they could hear was this scraping, as if it was marking the floor as it done so; whatever it was.
Then the sound seemed to be coming from the hall the door in front pointed them to, which was half opened, and it became obvious this thing was near, just behind the partially closed wooden door.
Then a tip of something grey became evident with a great thud—a mighty chain, long, longer than the children had seen free upon the ground above.
A foot became clear next, a long, broad one. It was a man, if you could call him that. His hair was wet, like his face, and his clothes sank onto him, revealing his emaciated frame that looked unnaturally painful.
“Is that an Anchor Man?” asked Christian.
“I can’t believe you just asked that, Christian. That great big grey thing attached to the chains—that’s an anchor.”
“Eleanor is right; though a man like him should not posses the strength to move his anchor around so easily,” said Ematay. Just as he finished saying this, the man took the chains and brought the anchor closer to him, seeing the full extent and size up close. Eleanor gulped just seeing it placed near the skinny, tall man. And it didn’t seem to put much, if any, strain on him when he done it; the wet man then swirled it around, like a mere weightless rope, and chucked it at them.
They were about to move, but Oddius stopped it mid air.
“That is not possible,” said Ematay. “They shouldn’t have this kind of strength. Where has it come from?”
The Anchor Man’s face was incredibly white, looking as if his colour had been washed out by the sea. He also had such great dark bags under his eyes, that it was not all absurd to think he had never slept before in his life.
The anchor floated, and also the man that was attached to it. With the chain and one metal shackle around his right foot, also attached to the anchor.
“Do we attack him?” asked Eleanor. “He doesn’t look like he is in his right mind.”
“Most of them won’t be until a few days goes by,” replied Ematay. “And I think the situation demands it this time.” The man was slow moving, but had somehow acquired strength beyond any sense. When he needed it most, for whatever reason.
“Of course,” said Christian looking at the Spirit Stone, also known as the Apostle Stone. “The Spirit Stone from the Heart of the Mountain is what is causing the disturbance in magick. But only old magick. Because the stone has to be at the Heart of the Mountain to create the physical balance throughout; the Anchor Men are controlled by an old magick from ancient swords passed down from king to king. This Anchor Man here is so strong because the balance of old magick is out of whack. That’s how they are free, and walking here. The Dark Queen must have planned to do this for some time.”
“You read my mind, didn’t you?” said Ematay.
“Erm…maybe.” The anchor was pulled from the gravity field somehow, forced out of it.
“You’re not kidding about this guy being strong, are you,” said Oddius, astounded with his eyes wide open. “I advise you all get to the garden and sync the swan. I can take care of this guy, and whoever else is waiting on this floor.”
“Your power is not offensive,” said Selphira. “You cannot kill them so easily,” she said, feeling his sacrifice come out in his last words.
There seemed to be some clanging, and all of their heads turned to where it was coming from. It was further down the hall that hid the first Anchor Man; and this one was hidden too.
Oddius extended his arm to the stone wall behind, with his palm facing upwards. A sound of waves signalled the Anchor Man in front flying back into the rock so violently, crushing and cracking the stone on the wall; the anchor hit it also, but not the still drenched Anchor Man, near him.
“How’s that for offensive,” said Oddius to Selphira. There were two deep holes in the wall; there was a hallway down to the left and right on either side too.
“Come on, he can clearly handle himself here,” said Ematay pulling the Warrior of Faith, whom did not have faith in this other warrior also. They all ran up one more level knowing they had one more to go, hoping to reach the syncing point in the garden that was seeming to grow brighter every second closer they got on the map. Ematay made sure to keep the magickal guide out at this time.
Oddius eventually saw the second Anchor Man, who turned out to be a very short woman; it was debatable if she was tall enough to be completely human, but there was no other category to fall into, or what the folks of Astora knew about. The hole the Anchor Man was in, was so deep it looked like she had burrowed herself there for her safe keeping. She didn’t move.
The woman came to Oddius, closer than the other had. She threw the anchor behind the Warrior of Faith. Her shackle on the right gave a dull chime against the frame of the door as it bashed into it; she floated, stumbled and got up. Although it looked as if she purposely done this. It became that way soon enough, when she ran to him, much faster than the other before, now in a hole in the wall, and not as malnourished looking—the Anchor man, or woman, then wrapped the chains around him as he created a gravity well where the other slept in the hole in the wall.
Yet as that happened his neck was tied, and he was shot through the air to where he gestured the gravity well to be. He tried to turn it off as the gasps of air were being drawn from him, but the shock of force around his neck could make him do little else but choke and struggle to breathe.”
“I hope is Oddius going to be okay,” said Eleanor.
“He of all people stands a chance to survive here, now. This is the second time we have had to merely survive,” said Selphira. “You keep forgetting. We adapt, we adapt very well to all situations.”
“I guess,” replied Eleanor as they panted, talking as they went up yet another level.
“Lookout,” said Selphira to Christian; she quickly turned into the Original Astorian and knocked another Anchor Man aside and into the wall. The bash blew the drenched prisoner out of this structure, and made him crash out of the cathedral. They all stopped and saw him look as if he slowly dropped back into the Shade Sea from whence he came. She saw another four from a small corridor coming towards them faster than the one they encountered downstairs. She knew they wouldn’t be able to understand her in this Original Astorian form, so she just pointed up the stairs for the others to continue. Selphira, as the large Original, thudded hard with a rage as she charged forward, crushing the walls and whacking the enemies back.
They were almost on the level they needed, but still did not know what awaited. They seemed to get to the garden, but in doing so they saw dead bodies, bodies of the Spell-casters; the reality settled in of it all now. It all felt serious and dark, or so Eleanor could feel within herself. They saw a terrible lot of bodies for display on this level, but weren’t sure why there were none on any of the others?
They had ran to the back, where the garden stood. The doors were closed, strangely enough. As soon as they all looked at the doors they all felt as if it was a bad omen.
Christian focussed his kinetic magick so that when his palm touched the wood it popped open with quite a force.
And there she was—captain Mileena. With a battalion of Water Spirits. Easily thirty. All female. All pretty, but wild looking, like the sea.
They all turned to them, and gloated, as if they were waiting for them for a long time now. The three came closer to the battalion through no other choice.
“There is no need for any of this Mileena,” said Ematay, hoping she might come to some kind of sense.
“I would have you know I never wanted any of this to happen,” said the captain standing in front of many Water Spirits. “And the Anchor Men are not under my control. There is no way I can stop them; the balance of old magick has been broken for the first time in thousands of years, and the residual magick inside them has drove them crazy, and mightily strong. There has only been a few out of thousands that have come to their senses, and only recently.”
“Then why are you here with a battalion at your side,” said Ematay. The children wanted to cower behind Ematay, but did not want to abandon him and leave his side at the same time.
“I am here to assist you in syncing the Stone Swan,” said captain Mileena.
“For what purpose?” said the Star-caster. There seemed to be a whistling wind that everyone could here now, and it flapped the cloth of clothes a little before an answer was caught.
“For the purpose to bring a new fairer system for us. I want to help, in exchange for reviewing the job toll of our kind; looking after the Anchor Men for an eternity. I was at the Dark Queen’s side at the core because if I opposed her she could have easily made us disappear, like she has said to have done to so many before. I am and was afraid for my people, surely you can understand that?”
“I can. But there is little to trust in your words judging on your past,” said Ematay. All the children just listened, as well as the battalion behind Captain Mileena.
“Then trust the change, trust the change in my heart,” said Mileena as sincere as she could. The words seemed to be of great reality; though Ematay still thought this could be an act of deception.
“Tell me, Water Spirit; how do we trust a heart that is as cold as the sea itself,” said the Star-caster.
“You trust it by warming it with your actions,” Replied the Water Spirits captain. “We have done a duty to your people unwillingly; give us a chance of willingness, and we will show you our touch can be more than just sea water upon open wounds. We have grown in ourselves. Let us make this plea to the king, and let us help you to prove this new way.” Captain Mileena stopped and thought on what happened in the core of the planet. “What is worrying, is that the Dark Queen had the power to break free of the gravity field all along. The darkness in her heart has ran deep, and suppressed anything that resembles a human now. Something is upon us, hidden, I feel this is not the end of the dominion of the Shadows, nor of their slyness. I fear for our world. We must break light into this darkness; and I will… all Water Spirits will—stand with you tonight. At these soon moments of battle before Swansie.”
“Then let me sync the swan,” said Ematay.
“Of course,” she gestured her hand to continue. Ematay then rushed to where the map showed him it was, and when he got within ten feet of its radius the swan leapt from his hand, turned invisible, and assumed it placed itself. As the magick flew around the cathedral. And radiated a paler silver than the silver of the cathedral; a grey in a way. Ematay knew it was activated again now.
The children looked relieved yet also scared. Mostly because they were scrutinised by a large number of Water Spirits before them, and did not particularity trust them; they both felt more self-conscious now than they could ever remember in their lives.
Ematay came back to them, as he went farther to the right, but near the door they came out to get into the garden.
“Okay. We will have to trust you. If you prove yourself I will put a case forward for what you ask, but only if you help at battle—now.”
“Agreed,” said Mileena. “I have three hundred strong Water Spirits spare and ready to go.”
“Let us hope it is enough,” said Ematay, trying to cling onto hope. “Another journey has passed, another has come.” He turned to the children. “You stay here with the Edeolon warriors. We don’t know if it still safe here. You will need there help.”
“No,” replied Eleanor.
“No?” said Ematay.
“That’s right,” said Christian. No. We’re not one to follow rules, not when we know we can do something to help.”
“This is not about decrypting messages or finding something we need. This is war. This is about death. Preserving life. You are both out of your league here,” replied the Star-caster quite snappy and angry.
