The travelers gate trilo.., p.122
The Traveler's Gate Trilogy (Complete), page 122
part #1 of The Traveler's Gate 1-3 Series
“Stand behind me,” Leah whispered, so softly that only he could hear it over the applause. He took up a position behind the throne as if it was his idea, and tried to look intimidating instead of bored.
“I realize not all of you here today are Travelers,” Leah went on. “However, I trust the impact of my next announcement will not escape you.”
Simon perked up. They had practiced this, but he was still looking forward to it.
Leah nodded to a teenage girl sitting on a nearby bench. “The City of Light, Elysia, is now accepting students.”
Shai stood, in her own white-and-gold uniform. She executed a bow that was much better than what Simon could manage, and stepped up. In the full view of the whole room, she opened a Gate to Elysia.
She had angled the Gate so Leah could see inside, for which Simon was grateful, because otherwise he would have been staring at the featureless back of a portal.
Alin stood on the Elysian fields, and Rhalia drifted next to him. His golden armor had been repaired, and he already looked much less like an Incarnation. His skin was still a little pale, and his eyes still looked like rainbows, but at least they didn’t glow.
And he was smiling.
“Lords and ladies of Damasca,” Alin said, “welcome to the City of Light.”
He got a much warmer round of applause than Simon had.
“In the past, I have been your enemy,” Alin confessed. “I have hated you, and set myself against you, and even tried to destroy you. I tell you all that to show you that I am now as sincere as I have ever been in my life. We in Elysia are now taking applicants. We will train students from Damasca, from Enosh, from the villages, from the Western Isles…anyone, of any age, may be tested. For we seek to build a force of Travelers that benefits not only Damasca, but all mankind.”
He sketched a bow—How does everyone get so good at bowing? Do they practice?—and turned to Rhalia.
She smiled before she began to speak. “There were a few bloodlines that produced natural Elysian Travelers, but in the old days, most Travelers of Elysia were trained. With the permission of the Damascan throne, we would like you to send volunteers for testing. In the City of Light, all are welcome.”
Leah applauded, and everyone else followed suit, if with a great deal of whispering among themselves. They’d do it eventually, though. Elysia had a reputation as the most powerful Territory, and the opportunity to get involved with the founding of a new Territory—or the re-founding of an old one—was too tempting.
Looking at Leah’s smile, Simon couldn’t help but think, I doubt she cares much for all mankind, but she definitely sees some benefit for Damasca.
Not that he blamed her, but he wasn’t sure how he felt about more potential Elysian Incarnations running around.
It was another two hours before Simon was allowed to go home.
As he placed Mithra on her rack in the entry hall, Simon noticed a girl he didn’t know standing in the hall, looking up at Vasha. She had pale skin and short blond hair, and she looked eighteen or nineteen, at most. She turned slightly, and Simon realized where he’d seen her before.
“You’re…Indirial’s daughter, aren’t you?”
She got the rest of her coloring from her mother, but she had her father’s eyes.
“Elaina,” she said. Then she pointed up to Vasha. “My father has the strength to swing this with one hand.”
“He does,” Simon said warily.
“That’s a power he earned in Valinhall.”
“Yes…”
She turned a confident smile on him. “So when do I learn that?”
Simon begged off for the moment, pleading exhaustion, but he had to promise tutoring later. She didn’t seem interested in any explanation that the Fang itself would have to approve of her, and that it would probably take months of training before she could lift a blade of Vasha’s size.
At last, he made it back to his bedroom.
The thirteenth bedroom, the room Valin had built for himself, was certainly…big. The bed took up twice the space Kai’s had, and all the furnishings were trimmed in gold. It even had a little door that stepped into a private outhouse, though Simon found himself wondering if the hole simply emptied into an infinite abyss.
But there were no shelves. No dolls. No one to whisper at all hours of the night, keeping him awake.
He couldn’t stand it.
Today, though, he was tired enough that he didn’t let it bother him. Simon tossed himself on to the bed, lying fully clothed on the blankets while staring up at the ceiling. It wasn’t long before he fell asleep.
He woke to something tickling his face, and he swatted his own nose out of reflex before it occurred to him to open his eyes.
Curly blond hair and a blue bonnet filled his vision, along with a painted wooden frown. Caela stood over him, her hands on her hips, expression disapproving.
It’s your first day of three new jobs, and you decide to sleep?
Caela, he sent. I didn’t think…
She waved a hand through the air, which was the most motion he’d seen from a doll since Kai’s death. Advising the bearer of Azura is more of a career than a necessity. I can speak with whomever I wish, and there are plenty of my sisters around. I think I’ll allow you to carry me a little while longer.
Simon’s spirits lifted, and he couldn’t stop a smile. I’d like that, he said.
She scowled at him again and kicked his shoulder. Then you’d better get to work!
The Eldest materialized out of shadow next to the bed, which was a much less pleasant surprise. His voice scraped out of an unseen throat. “She’s right,” he said. “You foolishly accepted the positions of royal protector and custodian of the Incarnations, when you already must see to your responsibilities as Founder of Valinhall.”
“I will begin my search for the lost Fangs tomorrow,” Simon promised. “It’s the first thing I’ll do.”
The Nye shook his hood. “No,” he said. “I have another job for you. You recently met the last soldier of the Dragon Army, the one who has all but abandoned her Territory. She did not aid us when the Incarnation was freed, nor when the House was attacked by foreign forces. Yet she still holds her Dragon’s Fang. If she does not return to her duties as a Traveler, then she should relinquish her blade to another.”
“Why does it matter?” Simon asked. “Kai barely did anything when he was here. Kathrin’s still a Valinhall Traveler. She can do what she wants.”
The Eldest chuckled. “You understand nothing. A bond to this Territory works both ways. If she wishes to enjoy Valinhall’s powers, then she must pay her debts.”
“Who says?”
The Nye bowed. “You, Master.”
He tried to think of a way out, but the Eldest had a point. If he was going to act like the Founder of Valinhall, he might as well start now.
Simon sighed and rolled out of bed. “I’ll get my cloak.”
THE END
Of the Traveler’s Gate Trilogy
The Traveler’s Gate Chronicles
(Nine short stories in the Traveler’s Gate universe.)
Welcome to Elysia, young Traveler.
You will have heard many stories about what it means to be one of us. Do not be fooled. No outsider understands our purpose. They think we are here to lead other Travelers, to make the decisions they cannot.
This is true, and it is not true.
They think we are here as a last resort, as an ultimate power, to keep the Incarnations in check.
This is true, and it is not true.
They think we are here to balance the other Territories, to keep them from obtaining too much power and upsetting the natural balance.
This is true, and it is not true.
What I am about to tell you is known by few, and understood by even fewer: we are not here to lead, or to threaten, or to eliminate threats. In the course of our duties, we will do all these things, but ultimately we are here for a single purpose.
We are here to guide. We are here to lead by example, inspiring other Travelers to live up to their own potential. We should be as beacons in the darkness.
Welcome to the City of Light.
-Elysian Book of Virtues, Page 1
Tower of Winter
First, you should observe the Violet Light, which is aligned with Helgard, the Tower of Winter. Many students who came before you have wondered why the Violet virtues of honesty, openness, and genuine expression are linked with this specific Territory. Helgard’s Travelers are scholars, known for their dedication to knowledge, research, and memory. Why, then, are they not linked to wisdom, or even diligence?
-Elysian Book of Virtues, Chapter 1: Violet
Donia Sarkis, Traveler of Helgard, had great things ahead of her. Everyone said so. She might be an Overlord one day, when Vasilios stepped down. She might end up as an explorer, braving the unknown dangers of the Tower’s uppermost floors.
Today, it seemed, she was meant to be a nursemaid.
Nikolos shivered in his heavy, fur-lined cloak. He sniffled miserably, his well-bred good looks spoiled by a bright red nose. His sleek blond hair was ruffled by the wind, and he could barely keep his hood up.
“Wait!” he said. “Did you see that?” He stared off into the blowing snow as though he had spotted some danger.
“I don’t see anything but snow, Nikolos,” Donia said, keeping her tone polite. Nikolos was the Overlord’s son, and a bad report from him would haunt her for years. She could not afford to let the Overlord down.
“Regardless, we should wait and watch,” the boy said, sniffling at every other word. “We wouldn’t want to run into an unknown danger.”
Nikolos stumbled through a drift and plopped down on top of a thick, rounded boulder carved like the head of a statue. It was a grossly exaggerated caricature of a face, locked into the expression of a monster about to devour a meal. Its long tongue hung down almost into the snow, baring four pointed fangs at the corner of the mouth.
It looked as if someone had carved a stone statue of a hungry monster, severed its head, and thrown that head on the ground. Donia happened to know the statue’s “neck” actually grew down into the bedrock of Helgard’s fifteenth floor, and there were hundreds of such heads scattered all around the floor. Some were so small they were often covered entirely by snow, though others were the size of a barn.
No one knew the purpose of the heads, though there were theories. Somehow, Donia doubted they were originally intended as benches for spoiled children.
“I seriously doubt we’re in danger here,” Donia said, because she couldn’t help herself. “This floor is well controlled. There are even a few permanent outposts.”
“You never know,” Nikolos said. “We should keep an eye out.” He was hugging himself and staring at the ground, not even pretending to watch for danger.
Nikolos had come up with some excuse to rest every hour since they had entered the Helgard Gate. At first, he was simply “overcome with the natural beauty of the Tower,” and he needed a moment to collect his thoughts. He would insist that he had heard a voice in the howling wind, or that he only needed a moment more to decipher the ancient runes on Helgard’s outer walls. Once, when he caught sight of an icefang shuffling through the snow, he had sworn there was a dead body beneath the powder, struggling to surface. They had to freeze in place, he said, because sudden movements could set it off.
Donia remembered herself at fifteen, so she kept herself polite, though she couldn’t ever recall being so obnoxious. If she was tired, she would have said so. None of this dancing around the subject or making up excuses.
His attitude shouldn’t matter, she reminded herself. He could be a screaming terror, and I’d still have accepted. Jobs like this are a ladder straight to the top.
Overlord Vasilios had insisted Donia should escort his son from his relatives’ estate in Alrin all the way back home to Bel Tara. It was an easy assignment, but one that showed a great deal of trust in Donia. She had only been a Helgard Traveler for a few years, but she was already getting personal assignments from the Overlord.
Annoying as this job might be, she had to prove she could do it.
A patch of glittering snow caught Donia’s attention, lying at the base of a twisted tree. In the right light, it looked as though someone had sprinkled the snow with a handful of crushed diamonds or powdered glass.
She recognized the signs immediately, as any Helgard Traveler would: an icefang lay in wait beneath that shimmering snow.
Icefangs were among the least of the dangers Helgard had to offer, but she had known careless Travelers to lose chunks of flesh to an icefang bite. The creatures were scavengers, usually preying on the sick or the dead. She wondered if Nikolos counted as sickly. They were also highly territorial, and it was entirely possible that she had stepped near this one’s burrow without realizing it.
Donia took a few steps closer to the icefang, away from Nikolos. The beast began to tremble, almost imperceptibly.
She held her middle two fingers together, leaving her other fingers spread out, stretching her hand out to the icefang in a sign of peace.
For a few seconds, the scavenger’s eager trembling stopped as it felt Donia’s imposed peace wash over it. That wouldn’t be enough to stop it, not on its own, but it gave Donia enough time to enact the next step.
Under her breath, Donia whispered the icefang’s name.
Not its personal name, of course. Learning that would have taken entirely too long, and she didn’t have time. Instead, she recited the generic name for the icefang species. It was twelve syllables long, all but impossible to pronounce, and all icefangs would respond to it to some degree.
She had heard it said that being a Helgard Traveler was half research and half rote memorization. In fact, she had spent three-quarters of her time as a student simply memorizing the hundreds upon hundreds of names all Travelers of Helgard were expected to know as a matter of course.
At this point, keeping an icefang quiet required no more effort than walking through the snow.
As usual, when she correctly named a creature, she felt a rush of emotions in return. With more intelligent creatures, she would receive a rush of specific thoughts and memories, but the icefang was little more than a vulture. It felt frustration, deep hunger, and a barely-restrained eagerness to attack the intruders that had dared to set foot in its home.
The peace she had imposed with her sign still lingered in the creature’s mind, and the unnatural calm also gave the icefang a degree of confusion. It wasn’t used to being calm.
As always, the icefang’s emotions weren’t the only things that transferred along the bond. Donia felt her own frustration with Nikolos, her hope to please the Overlord, her fear that she wouldn’t live up to her reputation, and her satisfaction at finally being home in Helgard all flow out of her.
The icefang wouldn’t fully comprehend any of that, of course, but it grew to understand her nature just as she understood it. More than anything, it felt her power and authority as a Traveler of Helgard. It knew she could call up a dozen forces more deadly than itself, and it wanted no part of that.
The glittering snow shrunk two sizes as the icefang cowered in the snowbank.
Nearby, Nikolos heaved a sigh and rose to his feet.
“I suppose I was mistaken,” he said at last. “We must remain vigilant.”
He trudged over to Donia with his hands tucked into his pockets and his blond hair disheveled. The corner of his boot almost scraped the icefang hidden in the snow. Without her interference, it would have taken his foot off.
Nikolos never even noticed.
***
After Donia and Nikolos climbed up the seemingly never-ending ladder leading from the fifteenth floor to the sixteenth, Donia remembered something she had been trying to ignore.
She hated this floor.
The entire thing was one open room, with no trees or hideous statues to break up the monotony. The blue-gray outer wall of Helgard encircled the floor, and without any obstructions, Donia thought she could make out the curvature of the tower, though it was hard to say for sure since she couldn’t see the far wall.
The floor appeared somewhat even, which she knew was an illusion. There was no snow here, and the ground was made entirely of uninterrupted ice. It looked as though the ocean’s surface had frozen during a choppy ocean storm: waves and spikes and curls of ice rose from the surface in a twisting frozen maze.
That was one of the things she hated about this floor. Damasca had a small outpost here, but she couldn’t see it from the floor entrance because of all the waves breaking up her line of sight. She could barely judge distance at all.
The icy floor glowed from inside with a pale greenish light. Perhaps she should have enjoyed that—there were much darker floors in Helgard, after all—but occasionally the light would flicker out, as though something in the depths of the ice had passed briefly in front of the light’s source.
That was a continual reminder of a fact she didn’t want to think about: something lay beneath the ice here, and no one knew what. The older Helgard Travelers had stories, of course, but they had no more idea than she did. Everyone who might know was either dead or insane.
Which brought her to the worst thing about the sixteenth floor: the silence.
From the frozen waves below to the enormous, distant icicles on the roof above—each of which was the size of a lighthouse—there was plenty of space to create air currents. Many of the Helgard floors generated their own weather. But not the sixteenth.
Nothing disturbed the air on the sixteenth floor. Not a breeze, not the call of a bird, nothing. It was the closest to absolute silence Donia had ever endured.
And she couldn’t stand it.
