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| Xeogaming Forums - Story Realm - Rise of he Golden Sun |
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Amudaus Octoballoon          Since: 07-24-06 Since last post: 5898 days Last activity: 5888 days |
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| this is the first chapter of an epick novel that i have in the works, feed back is apritiated.
Chapter the First: In which the Quest is Given The sun was rising over the village of Helea. It was situated in a glacier-carved valley surrounded on all sides by mountains that climbed so high they seemed to challenge the sun in their pride. They were high enough that the sun’s light did not reach the village square for nearly an hour after sunrise. Only the great bell tower in the square was tall enough to catch the very first rays of light. Helea was home to a tribe of sun worshipers known as the Heleans. The village was small, numbering barely 500 people. Most of the villagers were farmers that farmed the valley floor. Others were craftsmen or herdsmen, and all worked together to make the village self-sufficient. The villagers worked hard for their livings, but they were, for the most part content. This tribe was led by a king named Renuest Helea. His queen whom had died many years ago when a strange illness took the land, had presented him with two sons named Rentolen and Argonest. The boys were tall for their ages - Rentolen having 15 winters and Argonest 13 - and both had fair skin and light sky blue eyes. Rentolen was the more reverent of the two, and the more physical, being unrivaled even among older boys with the sword. Argonest was by far the more intelligent of the two, excelling at his studies. While he was more than merely adequate with his sword, his true skill was with a bow. His archery equaled Rentolen’s swordsmanship. “Argonest! Argonest!!” Rentolen yelled as his feet hit the stone floor with a slap. “What? What? I’m up, I’m up!” Argonest yelled back, rolling out of bed. Up he might be, but awake he was not, for he hurriedly dressed in his golden robe as was proper for morning prayers at the Sun Temple. Rentolen entered his younger brother’s room. “What are you doing?” Rentolen demanded, seeing his brother dressed in his prayer robe. “Getting ready to go to the Temple, what else, and I don’t see the reason for the hurry seeing that you are still warring green and not your you gold robes.” Argonest grumped, searching for the matching sandals under the bed. “Hah! You’ve forgotten! You, the scholar, forgot!” Rentolen crowed. “Today is Quardina! We don’t start the day at the Sun Temple. Today we offer thanks to the Gods of the Four Elements.” Quardina was a very special holy day of feasting, dancing, singing, and solemnly – and not so solemnly – thanking and honoring the Four Elements for keeping the world and those who dwelt therein in their care. It was the very special day that came only once every four years, to match the calendar years up to the celestial years. “Right, right,” Argonest muttered, as he untied his robe and flopped back on to his bed. His face was now as red as his blanket. “Argonest, if you don’t hurry you’re going to miss the Feast of Earth.” Rentolen’s voice was anxious, because he couldn’t leave for the feast until his younger brother was ready, and he was hungry as only a growing boy can be hungry. “The Feast!” Argonest leaped off of the bed and ran over to a small armoire sitting in the corner of his room. He took out a new robe and the matching green leather boots and put them on with great speed. “Argonest, come on! We’re going to be late!” Rentolen grabbed his brother’s arm and dragged him off, still trying to fasten the neck of the robe. They slowed their headlong dash down the hall as they passed their father’s suite. Being quiet here was something they had learned at a very early age, as the king did not like to be disturbed by small noisy boys. Once past their father’s suite they quickened their pace again, running down the stairs and into a large white marble entry room and walked toward the door. Just as they were about to open the door, a man’s deep voice halted them. “And where do you two think you’re going?” Both children looked up to see their father looking down on them from the top railing. “To the Feast, Father,” and “To celebrate Quardina, Father.” The boys answered together. “You’re going to the Feast?” the king said. “You weren’t going to wait for me?” Argonest was the first to speak. “Father, Rentolen said we were supposed to go to the Feast of Earth. He said we’d be late if we didn’t leave now.” Renuest chuckled. “And he was right. But you can’t go with out these.” He held up two golden circlets, smaller copies of his own. They were studded with malachite and jasper cabochons. He spun one down to each boy, who looked positively delighted with them. “You two go on now, and I’ll be along in a moment.” With that Renuest turned and walked back in to his room. “Let’s go!” Rentolen said impatiently, but he took a moment to make sure that his circlet sat straight on his head. They opened the door and stepped out onto the graveled path that led down to the village square. A large crowd was gathered. As soon as the herald noticed their arrival, he called, “People of Helea! People of Helea!” He paused while silence spread and only spoke once he had the people’s attention. “Prince Rentolen and Prince Argonest!” The crowd gave a lusty cheer. There was a genuine affection for the motherless boys among the people of Helea, and this was only one expression of it. The boys smiled and waved enthusiastically to the crowed as they walked toward the bell tower that soared skyward in the center of the Square. The boys paid the structure no heed, for it was familiar, and their attention was riveted by the sight of the laden tables that bore the promise of good things to come. A lone trumpet sounded a short fanfare and the herald called again, “People of Helea! People of Helea!” He paused, more for drama than from need, for the fanfare had quieted the crowd, which knew full well whom it introduced. “Renuest Helea, your undoubted King!” The king posed in his doorway, clad in the same green as the boys wore, his darker gold hair now bound by a filet of ruddy gold jeweled with malachite and jasper. As the king stepped onto the path the crowd opened a way for him, with hurrahs and calls of “The Elements bless our King!” He strode regally toward the tables, smiling at the crowd and waving back at them. When the king reached his seat he stopped. The trumpet sounded a different call, silencing the cheering once again. The king declaimed, “Let this holy day of Quardina commence!” That was the signal for the people to find places at the tables. As all had contributed to the feast, so now all shared at table. The priest spoke from an elevated podium at the foot of the tower. Behind it was a small table, covered with a golden velvet cloth that was draped over differently shaped lumps. “Let us honor Earth with a feast of the food of the ground. Now confess to the earth god your sins, for how many of you have ancestors who were tempted by the pretender god of DA_NI_A?” The people responded, “We all have ancestors that were tempted by the Dark One, but with the help of the Sun we found peace with the true gods again. Therefore, we confess to you, Earth, that we have failed to uphold your strength and might. We confess to coveting the secret magicks of the DA_NI_ANS. But we dare to ask you, for the sake of your creations, that you appeal to the other gods for us so we can be whole again with thee.” Now the priest turned to the tower. He lifted his hands in supplication and chanted, “O great Earth, how do you answer this plea?” Everyone waited to see if there would be a response, and for a few moments nothing happened. Then, gradually, from the northern face of the tower, the Shield of Earth began to glow green and the large silver bell tolled once. When the sound faded, the priest folded back once corner of the gold velvet and picked up a green shield. He then turned to the king standing beside him and held the shield out to him. “Bear this shield in token of the Great Shield for the defense of our people.” The king bowed to the Tower, and accepted the shield. The priest then turned his gaze to the people seated at the tables and spoke to them. “Earth will carry our plea for forgiveness to Fire.” Now the bronze lids were lifted off of the platters revealing breads, pastas, vegetables and fruits. All began to eat. Parents took the time to explain to their children the meaning of what was occurring. When the sun reached its zenith, The presiding priest and the king, the latter now in a fiery red robe, stepped up to the podium. The priest spoke to the people again. “We have asked Earth for forgiveness. Now we must remind Fire what we have done to deserve to be forgiven.” The people spoke again as one. “We have destroyed the pretender’s temples. We have raised your standards in honor of you. We have taught our children of the pretender’s treachery so they may never fall victim to its evil. We worship you in your temples.” The priest turned back towards the tower and lifted his arms. “O great Fire, are these actions enough to redeem us?” As before, there was a considering silence, longer this time, before the bell tolled, and on the eastern face of the tower, the Sword of Fire glowed red. The priest’s relief was plain in his voice. There were no underlings manipulating these effects in response to his words, but real responses from the gods. In the priest’s memories were tales of times when the people had not earned forgiveness and great torments and pelages where unleashed as a result. “Fire has deemed you to be worthy of forgiveness.” A collective sigh of relief whispered through the air. As he had done with the Shield, the priest uncovered a sword and presented it to Renuest. “Bear this sword in token of the Great Sword for the protection of our people.” Once again the king bowed to the Tower before he accepted the sword. “Fire will tell Water to cleanse you of your sins. As we have eaten to honor Earth, so now let us dance to show our joy.” Working together, the villagers cleared the remains of the feast from the tables and moved them out of the square. Then musicians took up their positions around the podium of the priest. There were several horns, including the fanfare trumpeter, drums, flutes, harps and stringed instruments both strummed and bowed. After some tuning up and settling down, they began to play. It was sprightly music, and made for dancing. Before long, the square was filled with folk dancing singly or in pairs or rings or lines. Even the littlest felt the joy of the music and were moved by it. Argonest was quite happy dancing off by himself – that was fine for a child of his age - but Rentolen was just old enough to want a partner, and just young enough to be unskilled in the seeking of one. He walked off to the well at the south end of the square. He dipped his hands in the cold clear water and took a drink. It was as good an excuse for standing still as any. Suddenly he heard a voice speak from behind him. “Not much of a dancer, my prince?” Rentolen wheeled around to see a girl about his age standing behind him. “If it makes you feel any better, I'm not much of a dancer either,” she said to him. “I was thirsty,” he said. Then, feeling greatly daring, he asked, “What is your name?” “My name?” She giggled. “My name is Malonthy.” “Well, Lady Malonthy, would you grant me the honor of teaching you to dance?” Rentolen asked. She pretended to consider his request. “That would be wonderful,” she answered. Each had had some teaching in the art of dance, and so, with little fumbles and hesitations, they fitted themselves to each other and danced. Grace grew as each felt more and more confident of not stepping on or tripping over the other. When the priest had turned the hour glass four times, he and Renuest, now in blue silk, returned to the podium. The musicians silenced their instruments. During the dancing, the priests and acolytes of the temple had rolled out close to fifty barrels of water, and opened them. The priest spoke the invocation. “Water now gives you the blessing of being cleansed.” He lifted a turquoise-studded goblet from the table, filled it with water and poured it over his head, saying as he did so, “Thank you, O Life Giver, for your gift of life.” Then each individual in the village dipped up some water and poured it over his or her head, or the head of a child, repeating the words. When the murmuring ceased, the priest spoke the closing words, “O great Water, are they cleansed of their sins?” The waiting silence was short. The bell tolled again and from the western face the Goblet of Water began to glow blue. The priest refilled the goblet, and presented it to the king, who once again bowed to the Tower, and accepted the goblet as the Priest exhorted him, “Bear this cup in token of the Great cup for the life of our people.” The priest spoke to the people again “Go now to your homes, rest, and take into your hearts the blessings of Earth, Fire and Water. Return when the moon’s light falls on the tower to receive the blessing of Wind.” Some of the villagers lay down in the square but most of them did seek their homes. The princes returned to their house and found their rooms. Argonest slept deeply and dreamlessly, but Rentolen’s sleep was full of dreams in which he danced around the well with Malonthy. They danced gracefully, languorously, with no adolescent clumsiness. The dream was sweet, and vivid. Malonthy opened her mouth and said, “Rentolen! Wake up!” in Argonest’s voice. He looked up to see his brother standing over his bed. “It’s time for the final blessing, Ren.” Rentolen rubbed his eyes and said, “Peace, Argonest. I’ll be ready in a few minutes.” He rolled out of bed and went to the washstand to splash the sleep from his face. He shook his robe, as if trying to shake out the slept-in creases, then searched his wardrobe for his warm cloak, which he swirled around his shoulders. King Renuest was still involved with his own duties, so the boys left the house without him and returned the tower. The full moon drenched the square, and bathed villagers, princes, priest, tower and all in its blue-silver light. When they arrived the priest was once again on the podium with the king. Renuest had belted on the sword over gold tunic and trews, and had the cup hanging on fine silver chains from his belt at his right side, and carried the shield on his left arm. As before, the presiding priest waited till all was silent before he spoke. “O great Air, fill our lungs once more with your divine spirit. Give us life in this world, and give our souls flight so that when the end of this world comes we may live with you in the stars.” The people inhaled deeply and exhaled. The priest turned to the tower “O great Wind, have we been filled with your spirit?” A breeze stirred around the square in the silence before the bell rang out and the wind god’s wings glowed silver and joined the other symbols of the gods. From the table the priest picked up the last ritual item, a white cloak with elaborate wings embroidered upon it, and held it out to King Renuest. “Wear this cloak in token of the Great Wings for the spirits of our people.” Renuest bowed, and turned so the priest could drape the cloak over his shoulders. The priest spoke again. “O great gods of the four elements, let us know if there is any way we may serve you, and if there is, what that way might be.” Ordinarily, that is, in the entire recollected history of this village of Heleans, all that ever happened at this point was a gradual fading of the four symbols on the tower, and the priest’s benediction and dismissal. The priest was waiting for the fading, when a man’s voice rang out from the square. “Actually, there is.” A tall wispy stranger in white clothing stepped up on to the podium with the king and the priest. “We need you to accomplish a small task,” a second voice called out, and a woman in blue stepped up on to the podium. “The one who accomplishes this task will rule a great kingdom the like of which the world has never seen,” a woman in red with hair like fire said as she stepped up on to the podium. “And we will bestow a measure of our powers upon this person, as a token of our gratitude,” a heavy man clothed in green said as he stepped up on to the podium. They should have been so crowded up there that someone would have to step down, but in some inexplicable way, the podium just continued to accommodate the extra people. “And who might you be?” the priest asked, although it was apparent from the tone of his voice that he had a fair notion what their answer would be. The four newcomers looked at each other. The man in the white robe spoke and his voice rang out clear like the silver bell of the tower. “Air!” A gust of wind whistled across the square. “Fire!” The lady in the red robe raised her hands which were abruptly full of flames. “Water!” The lady in the blue robe raised her hands. A globe of water from the well floated over to rest in her hands. “Earth!” The man in the green robe gestured, and the scent of freshly plowed ground filled the air. Given the proofs the four strangers had shown them, the people had no choice but to accept them at their word. After the astonished murmurs of the crowd died down, Air spoke. “We come before you on this holy night to give you a quest. We shall scatter our tokens upon the earth for him to find who is wise, brave, patient and steadfast. By fulfilling this quest, this – hero…” He looked around at the other three as if to check that ‘hero’ was the right word. They agreed it was. “…This hero will prove that he is worthy to rule our empire, and to found a dynasty to rule it after we call his spirit home.” The villagers digested this in silence. King Renuest spoke respectfully. “How will we recognize these relics when we find them?” The goddess in blue answered. “That is a fair question, King Renuest. We will show you.” Once again, the gods raised their hands. A great sparkling gem appeared above each one’s head. Above Fire was a ruby, pointed at both ends, with the fury of a blazing fire in its heart. Above Air, a round faceted diamond shimmered with the energy of the wind. Over the head of Water a sapphire shaped like a droplet seemed alive with the splashing of water. And finally over the head of Earth hung a rectangular emerald that was clear and unfractured and reflected the green of new grass. Fire spoke next. “You will find them in the hands of statues that bear likeness to us.” The Heleans digested this in silence until Argonest’s clear treble voice sounded. “How are we supposed to find them? We don’t even know where to start looking.” Earth smiled and answered “O Prince Argonest, your time for glory is not yet come, but in recognition of what will be I give you a clue: ‘The first of the Four Calls to the quester Riding the roads Toward the death of day. Shielded by shadow Earth’s emerald awaits.’” Water had a rich contralto voice. “With each gem you will find a lead to the location of the next. That is all we shall tell you. Thinking your way through the clues is a part of the questing.” Air had the last word. “We Elements bless you. Fare you very well, all who would accept our challenge.” He turned to the priest at the podium, and winked, and was suddenly a just raffish old man. “Wonderful ceremony by the way.” Upon that word the Elements were no longer there. |
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