Flight of the Krilo Read online

  “I’m in,” Kamal said.

  After a few seconds, the bag of tools was pushed through the opening between the trees. Kamal took them from Hermt and fastened the belt from which the bag hung around his waist.

  “Ready for the lamp?” Hermt asked.

  “Yes,” Kamal replied.

  The glowing light danced and shifted as the lamp was carried to the space between the trees. Kamal took it carefully and then he stopped and stared at the back of the tree. About four feet up, there was a human arm bone stuck inside the trunk. The hand and wrist were entirely inside the tree, while the rest of the arm stuck out. Hermt was right. There was definitely some sort of magic at work here. He looked down and saw the rest of the skeleton lying upon the floor. Everything was normal except for a thick tree root that had wrapped itself around the right ankle of the skeleton.

  Someone had tried to escape a very bad magical trap.

  “What happened here?” Kamal asked himself.

  Kamal turned around and carefully scanned the room. As he looked across to the other corridor, he saw another pair of cedar trees there blocking the exit as well. In front of them were several skeletons. Some were sitting back against the trees, and others were like this one, with roots wrapped around their legs.

  In the center of the room was a stone altar. Piles of bones were all around it, but these were not human, they were animal bones. Whatever this room was originally designed for, someone had turned it into a pagan ritual room.

  He took in a few steadying breaths and pushed the fears of more magical traps out of his mind. Whatever it was that had trapped and killed the others, it wasn’t after him yet. He would be careful to watch for any other traps that might be lurking about in the darkness. He looked around for a stable place to set it so he could work. The immediate space around him was clear, but he did see a stone table a few feet away in front of the western wall. He went to it and set the lamp down. Then he looked around. The room was filled with things he had not expected. Aside from the bones and the altar there were tattered cloths and tapestries, tables, chairs, and firepits throughout the room.

  “I’m going to go and get some lunch, are you all right by yourself for a bit?” Hermt asked.

  “I’m fine,” Kamal replied, though he had to wonder if Hermt was actually hungry or if he was simply too afraid of the final chamber to remain near it.

  “All right, then, I’ll be back in a bit,” Hermt shouted.

  Kamal stepped through the mess of items and soon found himself near the southern wall. On the northern wall, he could see where he had come through, and also where the eastern corridor matched up with this chamber. It appeared to be caved in from this side, but that wouldn’t affect his work in the chamber. He started by clearing bone piles and moving loose stones to one side while he rearranged the furniture up against the eastern wall.

  Then, something struck him as odd while he looked at the southern wall. On either side of a large, ragged tapestry with the image of a great, black wolf head, he could see carvings in the stone that didn’t seem to be quite right. He moved closer and inspected another wolf head carving, but soon realized that it was misshapen. It was almost as if the wolf head was carved onto something else. He rubbed the dust away with his sleeve and then backed away a few steps, and that’s when he realized he was looking at a head that had been carved over the top of another carving. Whatever had been there before had been circular in shape, and that was what caused the wolf head to appear odd.

  He inspected all along the wall, and then he came to the tapestry. He knew the others would tear it down in order to clean the room and prepare it for carvings appropriate for a temple of Interis Aruhat, so he tugged on it. A bit of the cloth tore off in his hands, but the main portion of the tapestry still hung from the wall. So, he took a larger wad of it in his hands and pulled. It held fast against him at first, but as he leaned his weight into it, the tapestry started to come away from the wall.

  More than that, the rod holding it in place pulled free from the stone wall and bits of rock crumbled down to the floor. He pulled again, this time with all of his strength, and the whole tapestry came down with a loud crash along with a sizeable pile of thin stone hunks. Kamal looked up to see that the wall the tapestry was fastened into wasn’t the wall at all. It was a façade, put up to cover the real wall.

  Excitedly, Kamal grabbed one of the chairs and stood on it. He could just barely reach the top of where the false wall had broken off. He pulled a hammer from his tool belt and hit the false wall. Soon he had broken the barrier down completely to reveal a large section of the temple wall. At the top was the carved image of a sun. Below that, was a long passage carved in Taish runes.

  “By the stars above,” Kamal exclaimed. “This is extraordinary!”

  Kamal brought the lamp closer and began to translate the runes out loud to himself to see what it was he had uncovered.

  In the beginning, Icadion stepped into the darkness with his brother, his three sons, and Hildervahl. He stretched his hand out into the cold void.

  “This is the beginning of all,” Icadion announced. “Many things shall come to pass because of what we do here and now.” Icadion then called upon Hildervahl. “Hildervahl, it is time.”

  Hildervahl pulled a flute from under his robes and put it to his lips. The darkness around them seemed to writhe in anticipation. Hildervahl played. The first note was sharp and high. As it rang out, white light shot from the end of the flute, piercing the darkness. Hildervahl closed his eyes and let the music flow through him, his body every bit as much an instrument as the flute. The light grew blindingly bright, illuminating each of the faces present. The light reached upward for miles, cutting the black void like a column of lightning. Hildervahl’s fingers danced upon the dragon-bone flute. The melody entwined with the light for several minutes. The column of light grew until it encircled each member of the group.

  Icadion stepped into the center and began to sing. The words of his song shattered the column into every color, as though his voice were a prism. After he completed the first verse, Icadion’s brother and sons joined in the chorus. The light began to take form. It started to flow like an aurora and gradually became more concentrated until a floor of light formed beneath them. All of the colors of the rainbow flexed and pulsed beneath their feet. It stretched behind them to the gates of Volganor.

  Icadion ceased singing and held up his hands. Hildervahl ended his song. The light around them dimmed, but did not die. The bridge held firm. Icadion held his left hand out in front of him, making a bowl with his fingers and palm. He spoke an incantation so ancient that only he and the light could comprehend its meaning. All of the light that was not solidified into the rainbow bridge gathered into Icadion’s hand. It swirled in, spinning tighter and tighter until a tiny sun formed just above his hand.

  “Brother, have you the boxes?” Icadion asked.

  “I do,” Khullan replied soberly. He carefully set down a large, iron chest. He took a key from a chain around his neck and opened the chest. Inside were several boxes, each a different color, with ancient symbols marking the contents.

  Icadion turned to his eldest son. “Attek, take the box of sacred soil. Form the contents together here, at the end of this bridge.”

  Attek methodically removed a brown cube from the chest. He carried it to the edge of the rainbow bridge, where the void stretched out endlessly. He placed his hand upon the top of the cube and spoke. “Let this soil grow into a bed of nourishment, for all life that shall take root therein.” He opened the cube and spread its contents, half touching the bridge and half hanging over the void.

  Icadion turned to his second son. “Lysander, take the box of the seed of life, and plant it in the soil.”

  Lysander took a green box, engraved with the symbol of a great tree, to the soil his brother had put into the void. He placed his hand atop the green cube and spoke. “As this seed sprouts and grows, let this world also grow and blossom.” Lysand
er opened the cube and placed the glowing green seed into the soil. When he covered the seed it began to hum and its green light pulsated through the soil.

  “Tyr,” Icadion said as he turned to his third son. “Take the box of the eternal water and shower it over the seed.”

  Tyr took a blue cube from the chest and walked over to the soil. He raised it high over the planted seed. “Let the seed of life drink of this eternal water, so that in living it may sustain all life.” The bottom of the blue cube dissolved and the water sprinkled downward gently. As its drops reached the soil, the seed of life hummed louder, and the soil vibrated.

  “So it begins,” Icadion said with a smile. He saw that the seed of life was indeed drinking the eternal water. It would not be long now before they could continue with their work. “Now we shall leave for a time,” Icadion told them all. “Hildervahl shall remain here to guard our work. Place the empty cubes at Hildervahl’s feet. Brother, close the chest and we shall return later.” Icadion placed the small sun over the soil and turned to go.

  Hildervahl played his flute as the others left.

  Later, when night had fallen over the crystal city of Volganor, Icadion returned with his wife Sylandriel. Hildervahl smiled when he saw them, for he knew what they were about to do. Icadion and Sylandriel walked hand in hand toward the sun that Icadion had created. Icadion wore a flowing golden robe. It was simple in design, yet it shimmered when he walked as though it were made of gold threads. Sylandriel wore a similar robe, but hers was silver. They stopped near the small sun and Hildervahl ceased playing his flute.

  “Husband, there is still much darkness around the seed you planted. This sun is bright and true, but it cannot remain alone. Without rest it shall blink out of existence.”

  Icadion turned to face Sylandriel, standing with the small sun between them, and then he recited his part. “If the sun rests, then the world shall be dark. See, there is no other light. What is to be done?”

  Sylandriel held out her right hand, palm up. She sang a song so ancient that only she, Icadion, and the eternal forces around her understood. A small ball of white light formed above her hand. It grew until it was slightly larger than her hand and then it floated upward. As Sylandriel sang the silver ball flew up, next to the sun.

  Icadion now joined in singing. The sun sent a flame to the newly created moon. As god and goddess sang, the moon and sun danced around each other. Spinning and dipping rhythmically with each other. As the sun and moon danced, they grew and rose higher into the void. After a few seconds, the moon gave birth to thousands upon thousands of stars. The moon shrank ever so slightly as the fledgling stars flew out into the darkness, fixing themselves into place.

  Sylandriel and Icadion ended their song and leaned in close to kiss each other. Then, pushing back from his wife, Icadion directed the sun to its place, as the ruler of the day. Sylandriel sent the moon to its place, as the ruler of the night. The two orbs started to grow once more and their light multiplied also.

  A small sprout pushed forth from the soil and a single, tender green leaf unfurled.

  Icadion and Sylandriel returned to Volganor and Hildervahl resumed playing his flute.

  A time passed, and Icadion returned along with his three sons, and his brother Khullan. They found Hildervahl sitting upon a gray boulder, still playing his flute. The small patch of soil was now a large swath of land covered in a gray, heavy mist. The sun shone brightly overhead and the previous darkness was now replaced by its golden brilliance. The small sprout had grown into a large tree, providing a patch of shade and shielding Hildervahl from the sun.

  “Now it is time to create the life that will inhabit this new world,” Icadion said.

  Hildervahl ceased playing his flute and bowed to Icadion.

  Icadion gestured with his arm for his sons to follow him, and they went to work, he and his sons. They formed beings from the clay and soil. First they created the Tai clans. They created the Svetli’Tai, the Sierri’Tai, the Vishi’Tai, Nizhni’Tai, and all other clans that belong to the elf-folk. Next, they created the human races. Third, they took some of the stone from the boulder upon which Hildervahl had been sitting and formed the Silni’Pei, the Krepki’Pei, and all other clans belonging to the dwarf-folk. They also formed the Khattuun, the Kratti, and the Kruuglii. These, along with the humans, dwarves, and elves, constitute the blessed races created by Icadion and his sons.

  Icadion then moved to the chest and opened the lid. From inside he removed a platinum cube. This cube was smooth, simple, and without design, word, or even a hinge to break its flat surface. As Icadion wrapped his fingers around it, the cube rang out like a chime. The god stood among the midst of the clay forms and held the platinum cube out in front of him. He said nothing, yet the box began to glow brightly in answer to Icadion’s will. The lid hovered up into the air and a silvery essence poured out over the sides of the box. As it descended, the heavy mists that covered the soil parted. The Sacred Light, as the essence was called, spread across the ground and covered all the clay beings that had been formed.

  “You have been given the breath of life,” Icadion announced as the clay melted away to reveal living, breathing beings. The elf folk were the first to recognize their creator. They knelt in thanks and bowed their heads humbly. The dwarves were the next to recognize their gods and also bent the knee to the ground. The Kratti, Khattuun, and Kruuglii followed quickly after the dwarves, kneeling in obeisance to their god. The humans were last to recognize their creators. Most of them did like their cousins and bowed reverently, but some of them turned their backs and walked away, setting out and away from the tree without so much as a glance back to the others.

  Icadion watched the rebellious depart and then he spoke to those who remained. “For each clan of each race, we have created four males and four females. This will allow you to propagate after your own kind and fill this new world with living souls. I implore you to explore and seek out suitable lands for your homelands. Your children, and their children after them, will be given these lands as inheritances.”

  The beings all stood and in one chorus shouted thanks and praise to Icadion for his gift of life.

  “Insomuch as the elves were the first to give thanks and reverence, I will lengthen their days upon Terramyr. Their lives will be as the life of a tree, so that their wisdom may be a guide to their cousins upon the lands they inhabit. The dwarves shall receive half of the years that the elves have been giving, insomuch as they were the second to recognize their creators. Each race will receive time according to the order in which they bowed the knee to me, their god.” Icadion then looked to the humans, with pity in his face. “However, cursed are the humans, for their stubbornness, and their pride. They will receive only one century, or one tenth the life I have allotted to the elves. And those clans and tribes who have turned their back upon me and refused to acknowledge my hand in their creation, they will be cursed above all others. I will limit their minds, and they will be like the animals and beasts of the fields, quick to fight, and prone to lust and instinct. Furthermore, those clans that departed shall be cursed to be nomadic, wandering tribes without any home for them to rest their heads. They will be an enemy to all races and beings upon the world, and will have to claw for every morsel of food they consume. In order for any issue of their loins to gain entrance to Volganor, they will need final rites performed over their bodies, else their souls shall be taken away to another place, cursed to be damned or to wander the plane of mortals.”

  All of the beings before Icadion trembled for fear of him, bowing their heads and keeping quiet. Once again, he implored them to spread out, and seek new homes to raise their clans. After a few moments, some of them separated off into pairs. Each male found a female companion, and started to look where they should go. The couple stared off into each direction, turning this way and that, but they knew not which way was best.

  Icadion turned to his sons. “My sons, go with these peoples and help them each find suitabl
e homelands. Once you have finished, return here to me for further instructions.” His sons nodded and then led the assembly out across the lands.

  Icadion returned to Volganor to rest for a night. Then, upon the morning he rejoined with Hildervahl at the edge of the rainbow bridge where it joined with the fledgling world.

  “My king, I would that you should know we have had visitors,” the great guardian said. “I believe they were drawn by my song.”

  Icadion turned a questioning look to Hildervahl. “Who came?”

  Hildervahl pointed to the skies. “They came upon great wings, in answer to my flute’s call. Seven dragons in all came to see whether they may take place among your creations.”

  “Where are they now?” Icadion asked.

  “They are resting inside the sun you created, basking in its warmth.

  Icadion turned to the great sun and whistled sharply. The sun trembled and turned red as a group of dragons emerged from the fiery ball. The first, and largest, was a golden dragon. The second a silver, and the third was bronze. There was also a white, a black, a blue, and a red dragon. They descended down on great wings to land before Icadion. The ground shook beneath them, but Icadion stood stoic. The golden dragon bowed his head low, and the others followed.

  “What are you called?” Icadion asked.

  “We are the seven ancients,” the golden dragon said. “We were born of a sun, long ago, by another who is now lost. We wandered in the darkness until we heard his song, played from a bone of our kin, and we drew near to inquire whether there may be place for us among your creations.”