"The Path of Ascension Chapter 9" by José Manuel López Vega

Chapter 9

Almost a month had passed since the coup that had overthrown the Sihjerat family, and still Khamed Anvarac was as nervous and anxious as he had been the first moment he had heard that his youngest son was missing. At first the aging general had thought that Alros had simply run off to join the festivities of the independence of Jagashla. But when he saw his ruined house and the remnants and scars of the massacre that had taken place there, Khamed Anvarac began to think that the worst had happened. He personally inspected the bodies before they were buried, but was unable to find that of his son amongst them. At least the worse of Khamed’s fears had not come true: that Alros had been kidnapped by sympathizers of the Sihjerat and was being held for ransom, yet soon another of his fears did come true, and the rumor that the youngest son of the house of Anvarac had been murdered began to circulate through Isgrel. The people began to think that now, and not during the rebellion itself, was the true danger beginning.  Under the unstable new government, an atmosphere of intrigue began to be felt amongst the nobles who sought to move up in the government through the murder and disappearance of their enemies.  More people were being murdered and disappeared daily in the capital of Tel Rajen.

Matters were so horrible in Isgrel that only an intercepted message of the Sihjerat resistance that Alros had been sighted in the border town of Yulden, had convinced General Anvarac to make the long journey from Tel Rajen to Aria Vildran with King Vashim.  Presently, both men sat in the quaters appointed to the Rajenian king, in the palace of King Ildan of Kohrilia, talking about whichever unimportant matter, till Khamed began to lead the theme towards Alros.

“Do you still think that the Sihjerat resistance did it, Vashim?”

“I have no doubt of it, old friend” answered the hawk faced sovereign.

“But how could they have known anything of my participation on the plot before it even took place.”

“There was a spy in our midst.” Vashim answered, without taking his eyes off of the book through which he was browsing.

Khamed’s eyes widened “Who?” he asked in a hoarse whisper.

“Me” the other answered casually, his grey eyes leaving the pages of the book to give a piercing glare to his friend.

“You? Why?” Khamed asked in disbelief.

“ Because that way I could divert the king’s attention from me”

“But all our plans!” continued the outraged general. “ the king knew!”

“No. I provided him with false information.”

“Still you should have told me!” Khamed raged.

“No. I shouldn’t have” the king said remaining calm.

At that moment a servant entered the room and beckoned both men to follow him to the throneroom. As he left the room, Khamed looked out the window and couldn’t help but worry about his son again.

As he jumped into the hard stone of the docks, Alros marveled at the spectacle before him. Kohrilia was the wealthiest of the kingdoms of men in Aenor and Aria Vildran was an astonishing symbol of her wealth, the city stretched from horizon to horizon, and it probably went farther, Alros knew that Aria Vildran was the largest city in all of Gaehar. But he had never been able to completely grasp that concept until he was actually there. As Eala ushered them forward, Alros gawked at the massive marble buildings and monuments, the tall, graceful turrets and at the finely dressed people that walked about the broad streets.

“Pretty impressive, eh?” Zadier said. Alros didn’t know if he was referring to the city or to the man who breathed fire in one of the town squares they had just gone by. He nevertheless nodded.

“I hadn’t realized a city could be this big.” Alros said twisting around to look behind him only to see the city encompassing the horizon that had once been filled by the Sea of Tialhara.

“The kings of Kohrilia have invested much time in it. I would say it is about five times as large as Isgrel, and Isgrel is quite a large city itself. But I rather prefer Aria Vildran” Zadier said.

“Are you from here?” Alros asked curiously.

“No, Alros. I am Iuldria, a small kingdom in the northernmost part of Erelea

“Oh” Alros said, not really paying attention to Zadier since he was now staring at a group of tall and beautiful people dressed in the finest silk robes with extremely long and pointed ears.

“Those are pure elves, Alros.” Zadier said, noticing the boy’s interest “They come from the elven republic of Lenziedrel”

“Republic?” Alros asked baffled “What is that?”

“It is a government that is not ruled by monarchy, but by representatives chosen by the people.”

“Weird. Does it work?”

“Not very well. Most of the elves wish to see the imperial family back in power instead of the senate.”

Alros had been so interested in Zadier’s words and in the fair elves that he ran straight into somebody.

“Watch where you are going” came a gruff voice from somewhere near Alros’s waist as a small man with a vast beard gruffly pushed him aside, and stalked off.

“That was a dwarf, right?” Alros asked.

“Yes” Zadier said in a sort of dissaproving fashion “It is really rare to see them out of Nyamir, they don’t usually leave their northern wastes.”

Alros’s head spinned as he tried to assimilate all these new things, he walked in a kind of haze until a sharp voice snapped him out of his wonder.

“Alros!”

His head snapped back to see Eala

“We are going that way, do not get lost or we then might never find you again in this place.”

Alros looked to where Eala was pointing to, and he saw far in the horizon of grey and white, something that appeared to be a mountain of pure gold, as they approached it he saw it was a building of huge proportions, made entirely of marble and gold, with soaring butresses and battlements and gardens with flowerbeds in full bloom.

“This is the palace of King Ildan.” said Eala “We have reached our destination, and now we wait.” And with that she leaned on the outer wall and stood as still as stone, Zadier followed suit, as did Alros after awhile.

”A big place indeed, isn’t it?”said Tabagar, who had taken his place besides Alros.

The boy could only nod as he turned to gawk at the minotaurs that patrolled the gates of the palace. They were huge and beautiful creatures; with glossy coats of hair that bristled when they were angered and with proud and ferocious faces, they all wore the same uniform in blue and yellow, the colors of the Kohrilian banner and they all carried round shields which depicted a yellow ram in a blue background. About an hour passed as the sun dipped into the horizon, when one of the minotaur guards approached them. Alros’s stomach knotted in fear. What was the beast going to do to them?  Apparently there was nothing to be feared for it went directly to Eala and lifted a massive fist in salute and brayed something that Alros was unable to understand, however, Eala apparently did understand for she immediately turned to the others and with a gesture of her hand that Alros had now become familiar with, she beckoned them to follow. The hulking minotaur led them to a part of the wall that was covered with thick creepers that went all the way to the top of the walls, making obscure signs with his great hands the minotaur seemed to tell them that they had to scale the walls through the creepers. As the minotaur signaled and brayed, Alros noticed that Eala’s face darkened and grew stony, the minotaur seemed to be greatly agitated and often cast glances towards his back, his small bloodshot eyes apparently frightened. When he had finished to explain himself he bowed low and left quickly until only the heavy thuds of his hoofs could be heard. Eala contemplated the wall with clear disgust and then she turned towards them.

“Well” she said “we had better get started climbing this wall, the sun has already sunk. I’ll go first” And then she stood staring at them as if waiting for something.  Time crawled on but no one made a move, Alros looked at his companions and at Eala, baffled.

“Well?” the woman said testily. “What are you waiting for?! Carry me!”

The climb did not take as long as it would appear. The thick vines provided good foot holds, though, as Alros soon unpleasantly discovered, the vines had thorns, which made the climb only a little less easy. Once, puffing and grunting they all got to the top of the wall, they found themselves confronted with a cluster of great trees. Quickly, Zadier jumped of the wall and grabbed at a branch, climbing with catlike grace. Once he had checked the limbs were sturdy enough he beckoned the others to follow. As before at the foot of the wall, Eala waited impatiently until Tabagar realized he was supposed to carry her, without any apparent effort, the big man carried the woman that clung sullenly to his thick neck,  with a running jump Tabagar leaped over the space that separated the wall from the cluster of trees, landing precariously on a limb that shuddered and groaned under his weight, then Alros jumped and scrambled unto a branch that apparently had not even felt his weight, then following Zadier they all made their way down into a great courtyard with a magnificent marble fountain with carved figures of rams that sprouted jets of water from their proud high held heads, the golden horns glittered blood red in the gathering dusk. Beyond the fountain there was a broad aisle with tall cypress at each side that went on all the way to the main door of the palace, between each cypress there stood identical marble statues of rams, the sapphires that filled their eye sockets glittered beautifully.

“What is this Kohrilian obsession with rams” Alros asked  Zadier

“It is a national symbol, it has been present in the coat of arms of Kohrilian kings since its beginning. Rather odd since there aren’t that many rams in Kohrilia except high in the Kasnar mountains.”

“Do you have any idea what we are doing here?” the boy blurted suddenly.

“Yes. Sort of.”

“Could you explain it to me then.”

The half- elf gave Alros a strange look. “ Not me, Alros. Some other will see to that in a while.” He said with a strange catch in his voice.

As they walked through the aisle, Tabagar walked up to Alros. The large man had said very little ever since they had left Yulden, his brooding silence had preoccupied Alros who had thought that the guard was having second thoughts about having come with them and would leave them at any time, effectively abandoning Alros amongst a group of complete strangers with unknown motives.

“Did you see them, young master?” Tabagar asked him.

“Who, Tabagar?” The boy asked in return, instinctively moving his head from side to side.

“Those guards. Over there.” The guard said pointing with one beefy finger at a group of guards who lounged idly playing dice. One of the shields that lay in the floor depicted a crimson falcon with wings wide spread in front of the figure of a setting sun. Alros recognized the mark fairly quickly.

“Rajenians?” he whispered in astonishment.

“Indeed. That is the crest of gene- King Vashim’s family.”

“What is he doing here”

“I have no idea, young master. But it would be best if you remain out of sight, you are rather conspicuous you know.”

Alros nodded knowing that the guard had been referring to his eyes.  After Eala’s story, Alros had begun to think of his eyes in a completely different light.

They kept walking on, and just when they were going to reach the towering double doors, Eala turned to the right following the outer structure until they arrived to a large garden that was an absolute riot of colors and fragrances with channels of water crisscrossing through it. Eala followed one of those channels until it led her towards a dark corridor where the wall and the palace were almost upon each other. She began moving the undergrowth until Alros could see a rusty handle. Taking hold of it Eala squared her shoulders and pulled, with a dry crackle all the debris that had covered that space gave a way as an old wooden door opened from the ground releasing a drafty current of air that gave the impression that the room had not been aired in a very long time, the four trooped inside, their footsteps sounding greatly magnified. When they had all descended and their eyes had adjusted a little, Alros could make out the dimensions of the room. It was not very large, probably some old shed. And then, all of a sudden as if from nowhere; Alros was gripped by an almost overpowering feeling of dread that made his knees buckle and his stomach feel hideously empty, beads of a cold sweat began to appear on his forehead as his eyes rolled around wildly trying to find the source of the overpowering dread that was already making him feel slightly faint and sick. Then he saw directly in front of him he could make out the tall brooding image of a person. At that very instant six torches roared to life, blinding them momentarily. The torches hung in iron rungs and they released a heavy, greasy smoke and a clinging heat that reminded Alros of the sewers of Isgrel, then remembering the figure he had seen he jerked his head upwards and lowered the hand that had been shielding him from the light, and then he could see the man that stood in front of him.

Alros gaped at him.

The man was somewhat above medium height, he had a stocky frame and

broad shoulders, his face was very angular and brutish, he had heavy black eyebrows knotted furiously, his nose was large and blocky, his lips were twisted into an expression of  eternal disgust. He had skin bore greater resemblance to cured leather rather than normal human skin and a vast, grizzled mane that reached slightly below his shoulders and was impressively unkempt. He wore a great beard that was just as unkempt and wild as his hair.But it was his eyes that held Alros  spellbound in some indescribable horror. They seemed to exude an aura of towering hatred and contempt, mingled with a self loathing that burned fiercely in his orange eyes.

Eala and Zadier moved forward, the first giving a curt nod that might have been of recognition or of respect, the other sinking to his knees and trembling slightly. His long blue black hair had fallen all over his face so it was impossible to see his expression, however Alros clearly heard his quavering voice.

“Master” the young sorcerer was saying “ I have completed my mission, master. I have brought you the boy, with as much haste as I possibly could as you had ordered me to.” He had been talking very quickly and then he seemed to hold his breath expecting some response from the brooding figure wrapped in a thick black cloak.

The man fixed a savage glare at Zadier who tried to meet it without blinking. Then at last the mysterious man spoke in a deep, harsh resonant voice.

“Rise, Zadier. You have fulfilled my commands well enough, perhaps there is hope for you. Though I have been expecting you here for three days already. Do not take so long again when I summon you or I shall become seriously displeased at you, get up now. You have my permission to withdraw.”

Zadier got up quickly from the floor and went to a corner were he stood his eyes huge and his skin pasty.

Then the man turned towards Alros and fixed him with a piercing glare , his eyebrows knitted even more, and his lip twisted further.

“So,” he said, “ we finally meet, Alros”

The boy said nothing, but took an involuntary step backwards.  “Do not turn from me, boy” the large man snapped. Alros froze. “Do you know who I am, Alros?” He said in his hollow voice. Alros moved his head from side to side in denial, though something told him that he did know this grim man. The man seemed to share the same view, smirking, he said: “That is where you are wrong, boy. For we know each other quite well. Yet allow me to refresh your memory.  I am Jalus, sixth of the Hla Urem, the very same who slew Shefel upon the fields of Lasaar!”