Part V: High Priest of Auran

Chapter XXX: The Thief Ibuaren

The hall of Mornil’s house echoed with the sound of hurried steps as Súlin and Koven the Younger entered the guest room.

“In the secluded alleys of Younger Darika, we found an at least peculiar man named Erilar, who, for a suitable bribe—equal to two hundred Siranian thalers—informed us about the fate of his former friend Ibuaren, also known as Ivaren,” the breathless Anskar panted.

“So you aren’t returning empty-handed?!” the dryad cried enthusiastically, readily handing the newcomers cups of water, while Ignis offered them chairs to sit.

“He confided in us that he still harbors tender feelings for Ibuaren,” Anskar smiled and continued, “his appearance blended boyish and girlish charms equally, so he was often mistaken for a girl. We also know that this thief came from somewhere in the north, but entered Arkagant through the southern gate. He repeatedly broke into houses only to desecrate their inner sacral areas, something no one had succeeded in doing since the city’s founding.”

“It is exactly forty years since he broke into the heart of the temple,” the air mage continued. “He was subsequently imprisoned, but he escaped from prison and a few years later—and now listen carefully—under unclear circumstances, he was adopted into the highest lineage on Arka under the full name Punar Onkira Vinori. He was even accepted as a son by the High Priest of the temple himself.”

“Although I come from a noble lineage and know many strange tales of paths to power, this story seems more like some kind of joke,” Ignis noted with a smile.

“Who possesses the right to enter the Sanctuary of the Flame?” Omerin turned the direction of the discussion with a question to the roadman.

“Entry to the temple is restricted, just like entry into the sacral part of a house for all foreigners. For you to enter there, Omerin, you would have to become my wife,” the young warrior smirked at the dryad, who, instead of answering his remark, bared her strong white teeth.

“For everyone else, it holds,” Anskar continued, as if he had noticed nothing, “that they are foreign blood in the body of our society. The initiation ritual is very complex; for you to become Arkagantians, each of you would have to choose adoptive parents in one of our lineages, but by that, you permanently bind yourselves to the customs of our community. Exactly the same applies to the child—the ritual of adoption takes at least five days—and we have one and a half days left.”

“What do we actually know about the position of the Onkira lineage on Arka?” the fiery man joined the conversation.

Rúnen, entering the room, caught the question and promptly answered: “The Onkiras are the highest guardians of the Flame; currently, they are the main official enemies of the Melissai lineage.” With those words, the lady of the house walked around the large circular table, placing rye cakes before the guests and pouring a herbal decoction into the cups.

“Did you find out how Ibuaren penetrated the temple?” Night Butterfly asked Súlin.

“Erilar revealed to us that from the beginning, it was only clear that he was following someone. He was looking for a secret,” the mage answered and drank with gusto from the offered cup.

After those words, there was a brief knock, and the master of the house entered the room.

“I bring you favorable news,” the man addressed those present. “Aldin Onkira Vinori, the third of the sons of the Onkira lineage, High Priest of the Temple of Flame, is ready to receive you today, two hours before sunset. Your visit, however, must remain secret.”

“That is hopeful news you bring, Mornil,” the air mage answered for everyone. “We were preparing to go after Ibuaren, but negotiations with Aldin are decisive at this moment.”

Chapter XXXI: The High Priest of Auran

It was already two hours after the noon song when the company began to prepare for their hurried journey. Before they started descending into the secret underground passages, Mornil led them to the spacious courtyard of his house and blindfolded them. The laws for foreigners applied to them as well.

Through a small gate, they entered a sloping staircase. The elder of the Kovens, who was their guide and thus walked in the lead, signaled them to hold hands, and with gentle squeezes of their palms, he alerted them to irregularities in the terrain. At the end of the staircase was another, this time leading upward. They climbed up, passing a second door. After descending again, they felt a soft carpet lining a shorter corridor beneath their feet. They descended along a U-shaped walkway and found themselves in a longer, spacious street, which they also recognized by the echo of their steps, which carried far into the heart of the underground. Other sounds, however, they did not hear.

They were likely walking in one of the main arteries of the underground labyrinth. The corridors had their openings in the individual courtyards of local houses, thus forming a seemingly invisible, but in reality, dense network connecting the entire underground of the city.

After a time, the street began to wind, and at its sides, they felt the presence of many turn-offs with doors. Some of them—most of all the air mage, who never developed a taste for the underground world—already felt they had completely lost their orientation. Others did not lose their sense of space entirely; the dryad, thanks to her innate ability, felt the wooden doors they passed along the way and counted them. When she counted six doors, they turned into a side corridor to the right. The vigilant Anskar left one of his hairs there at the crossroads, which he used as his natural magic. His act went unnoticed.

Then Mornil suddenly stopped at a door, and for the third time, his bunch of keys rattled into the silence. They were there.

Mornil removed the cloths from their eyes, and they saw a massive, decorated door. The door opened, and a man dressed in white appeared on its threshold. He had a clear, strict face, short gray hair, and a long beard.

“I am Aldin Onkira Vinori; come in,” the man gestured to them. They entered a stark-looking, smaller reception hall.

“I know what brought you here; through Mornil’s intercession, I now receive you and am willing to listen to you and answer your questions. I certainly recognize Master Súlin, and it pleases me to meet him.”

Súlin nodded in response without a word.

“I apologize that due to lack of time,” he spoke again to the whole company, “I cannot offer you any refreshment, and you have nowhere to sit. Who speaks with your mouth in this matter?”

After an exchange of several short looks among the company, the elven wizard stepped forward and spoke:

“We come to warn you. High on the snowy peaks beyond the borders of the Grand, we managed to rescue an extraordinarily magically gifted child from the clutches of a dark demon. The child then became our guide on the journey here and revealed to us that he must reach the heart of the Auran Fire in your city to restore strength against the powers of the upcoming Eclipse.” Súlin paused for a moment to observe the impact of his words. The man’s face remained serious, showing no signs of over-involvement.

“Before noon today,” the air mage continued his speech, “we visited a member of the Melissai lineage, Olmar Vinori, at the Rock of Vision. Before he lost his life, he showed us the collapsing structure of Arkagant and a second group of people heading into the heart of the temple with a false child. That is a danger to the Aurán and also the reason why we came to warn you. Among the dangerous intruders, we recognized Gamol Melissai, Olmar’s corrupted brother, who fell into darkness and became the architect of the Inversion world in the City of Mages.”

“I understand that the course of recent events has caused you serious concern, but I am not sure if I can help you in this matter,” Aldin dryly noted. “Where is the evidence confirming your claim?”

“This is a matter fundamentally affecting the future of the entire Qurand,” Súlin raised his voice, “and it can only be favorably influenced by the entry of the child into the temple.”

“Favorably influenced?” Aldin asked disparagingly. “And for whom? For you? For the good of the world? I stand on the side of the Aurán, which is to say, on the side of no one. The Holy Aurán, older than the sun, linked with the order of our community, lives and has been guarded by us for several millennia, and the value of the holy fire corresponds to its age. I will not be the one to break this established order just for the trust of foreigners.”

“But even the holy Aurán can undergo a transformation into its Inversion form, and with it the entire power structure of the Grand as we now know it,” Arsia spoke with hidden impatience in her voice.

“The Aurán has faced many Eclipses,” the High Priest said with his head held high and pulled his white cloak tighter to his body. “Gamol’s dark power is at an end. I have just received a report that the Melissais attempted to enter the temple and were eliminated to a man. Gamol perished, as you yourselves know, at an astrologers’ ball in Sairis.”

The looks of the pilgrims met again, and they spoke of one thing: deep disappointment.

“Only Gamol’s body perished; his spirit, however, still lives, it merely transitioned into another plane of existence,” the elven mage objected in a quiet but firm voice. “Before we leave, we must warn you of one more danger. In the Siranian forest on the western foot of the Barazgir Mountains, we encountered the Enchanters of the Rib of the Earth, a mile north of the magical milestone that resembles a mill. Their tracks led to the ruins of nearby Arkagant. In this place, they were disrupting the structure of the Grand so that during the Eclipse, it would become part of their shadow world. I have already informed Architect Valmont of this matter, and now I announce it to you, so that you may investigate this reality.”

“The settlement you mention perished six centuries ago, for it fell to demonic forces. We know about those who disrupt the boundaries of order; nevertheless, I thank you for this information, and we will certainly examine it carefully,” Aldin answered politely.

Súlin’s voice rang with urgency as he tried to convince the High Priest one last time: “From all my heart, I ask you: give consent at least for the child to touch the sacred fire.”

Aldin’s features hardened, and in the reception hall, it rang strictly: “No one has ever touched the fire, and since you have been unable to provide more fundamental evidence why that should happen after millennia precisely in these days, it shall remain so.” After these words, he approached the door as a sign that the time allotted for the meeting had expired.

“Allow, before we leave, one last question,” the fiery man spoke as he crossed the threshold of the hall. “At the Rock of Vision, we witnessed an event in which the orderly structure appeared weakest, paradoxically, in the center of Arkagant—in the Temple of the Flame. How is that possible?”

“There, the metal is only just flowing,” the High Priest spoke with emphasis and smiled knowingly.

As he walked out with his guests, curiosity glinted in his eyes: “By the way, what is the name of your child?”

“Suvarna,” Súlin answered and walked out the door to be swallowed with the others by the chill blowing from the corridor.

Chapter XXXII: Last Hope

They returned hurriedly to Mornil’s house in the late afternoon.

The boy and the lioness were keeping company with Mornil’s children; Rúnen divided her attention between her offspring and the guests. She was in constant wonder as she observed the noble animal and the little boy, as well as their quiet conversations in the lion tongue. In her mind, however, she was still with her husband and his new friends. She barely hid her unease, which the mood of the city aroused before the expected event. Every so often, she approached the door and listened to the sounds coming from outside.

Finally, she heard familiar steps; the door to the chamber opened, and her husband appeared on the threshold, accompanied by the pilgrims. The child paid no attention to their arrival; he whispered barely audible words in a remarkable language to his animal protector. When they looked more closely at the white lioness, their breath caught. The animal listened to the melody of the words and slowly changed its form. The white fur slowly receded and changed into the soft and clear skin of a young woman. The kneeling naked girl opened her golden-brown eyes and rubbed them with slender fingers.

Ignis, who did not consider the transformation into a lion anything unusual, level-headedly handed her his laundered traveler’s cloak. She opened her mouth, but instead of a friendly greeting, a muffled growl escaped her throat.

Arsia jerked. “I haven’t finished it yet; she doesn’t speak yet,” the boy said cheerfully. “I will finish her when I have a little more time. What did you say to that priest-man?” he asked the others, who were still in awe of the unexpected transformation.

“We told him everything that could convince him to accept you into the Aurán Temple,” the elf answered after a short pause. “I even told him about your slip-of-the-tongue which you refused to explain to us, Suvarna,” he added and fixed a strict gaze on the child. “None of it, however, convinced him to waste too much of his clearly precious time with us.” Then he leaned exhaustedly against the doorframe and sighed in disappointment.

“But I am not Suvarna. I am still a child—gifted, yes, but a child,” the boy objected. “And as time flows, I am only just discovering the things I carry in my mind. A child’s mind is unstable, however, and I am tossed between play and the effort to save this place. If only I could get into the fire—I would immediately remember many things that have not yet ripened in my mind. And besides them, a much more disturbing thought weighs on me: there exists a second child… I feel him; he sits where there is darkness and heat and waits, waits for his opportunity, which will come tomorrow at noon. We must stop him.”

“What actually binds you to the Aurán?” Anskar asked.

“More than you can guess; ten thousand years ago, when I founded this place,” the boy answered, “I didn’t expect I would ever be breaking into my own temple.”

Anskar nervously adjusted the turban on his head and looked around at the others to see if they had heard the same thing as he had.

“Sacred places are embers in the ash that can go out, or can become the source of further fires,” Suvarna continued. Then he paused for a moment as if something important had occurred to him: “Didn’t you say that Ibuaren of Valarkagant is here? We should visit him as soon as possible, because only he can help us cross the well-guarded threshold of the temple. Or do you already have a victory in battle with the four-armed stone giants behind you?” The child’s voice rang with unconcealed irony.

“So what are we waiting for?” the dryad blurted out.

“At this time, however, you cannot move around the city with the child. Many unauthorized eyes lurk everywhere. He must stay here,” Mornil warned emphatically.

“I will stay with him,” Ignis said and looked into the golden-brown eyes of the girl holding Suvarna on her lap.

After those words, the rest of the company, for the second time in a hurry, left the house of Koven the Elder.

Chapter XXXIII: Captive of Shadows

After they conquered the rings of walls preventing access to the Arkian hill, they climbed up the sloping paths high to the level of the Rock of Vision promontory. There, on the slope of the steep rock, they saw large suspension palaces built in the manner of bird nests. The largest of them belonged to the Onkira lineage. That one was connected with a smaller palace of the Ganú lineage. Opposite them stood the building of the Erinu lineage, connected to the largest structure by means of rope and stone bridges. They noticed that some were torn and hung down along the walls.

The fingers of the setting sun gently touched the roofs of the palaces, and another day vanished in the reddening sunset.

“Perhaps this is the last sunset we see,” Night Butterfly noted matter-of-factly, for now was not the time for savoring the melancholic mood of the coming evening.

They approached the door of the largest palace, and Omerin struck the sturdy knocker against the gate of the house several times in succession. No sound was heard, and no one opened.

“It is necessary to go to the confidants of the Onkira lineage; those in this case are the Erinu lineage,” Mornil spoke to the others. Unease was evident in his voice, and his face was pale with concern.

In a short while, they stood beneath the emblem of the Erinu lineage, which hung over the entrance gate. Súlin took the knocker, and the door unexpectedly opened with a creak.

They were looking into a hall shrouded in dense darkness. It was impossible to distinguish any object or living being. The vestibule swallowed the daylight instead of being brightened by it.

“The threshold is a fracture into the Inversion world,” the half-elf explained the strange phenomenon to those who were still standing in awe.

“Be alert,” Súlin addressed the company. “Once we cross the threshold, we will find ourselves in a place with different rules, where shadows have greater power, and if the door snaps shut behind us, or someone closes it, we will not have an easy path back and perhaps we will be forced to seek other exits.”

Then he uttered a quiet incantation and entered the darkness. The others followed him without a word; only Arsia leaned down to secure the door wing with her dagger. When all six adventurers gathered in the vestibule of the house, the air mage’s palm glowed with white light.

“I only regret that Ignis is not with us; with him, our situation would be much easier, as the events in Gamol’s house confirmed,” the elven mage added in a low voice, more to himself.

The vestibule opened into an atrium, which was illuminated by a strange cold glow casting sharp shadows on the ground; it resembled the light of a full moon.

To the right of the atrium was a small open door. The young roadman peered into the small windowless room; it was only dimly lit, yet on its floor, he distinguished the bloodied corpse of an unknown person. He had likely been attacked by some huge animal, for there were deep wounds on his body that looked as if they were caused by strong, sharp claws.

“We are not alone here,” Anskar gritted through his teeth, pointing into the room with a quick gesture, and his hurried steps echoed in the corridor. His comrades huddled closer together and followed him.

At the moment a staircase ascending upward appeared before them, a huge shadow suddenly emerged from behind the steps toward them, its top reaching above their heads.

It continued moving toward them. The young warrior automatically reached for his long spear, and with a movement of his left hand, removed the leather blade guard he wore in the city streets, and with his right, hurled it against the apparition. The blade whistled through the metaphorical center of the shadow, which swallowed it with a ripple, and struck the wall with a clang. The shadow, however, moved closer and closer, so it was already within three paces of the warrior, who began to retreat back down the corridor in terror.

At that moment, Súlin together with Omerin began to materialize a Mirror Shield to repel the enemy. The dryad concentrated water droplets present in the air and expanded them into a circular form; the elf then held the circle in the space before the apparition. It suddenly stopped. The air mage nodded significantly to the half-elf, who hurled herself upward and with a high somersault was the first to clear the shoulders of darkness. The shadow rippled near the place she jumped through.

Anskar’s magical means were limited, so he retreated behind Omerin and the air mage. When the mirror stopped the shadow, Omerin tried to go around it, encouraged by the self-confidence of a spatial sorceress, at the point where it did not touch the corridor. It seemed that the shadow froze and that it would no longer move. When the dryad was a step from it, however, a face appeared in its darkness. Its features gradually cleared, and shortly Omerin was looking into her own eyes.

“A double,” it flashed through her head, and she subconsciously stepped back.

In that instant, however, the leader of the company also saw the face of the false Omerin, and in the next second, the air mirror was floating already on the right edge of the shadow, and the dryad could thus safely escape from its reach. The others quickly followed her toward the staircase; there Anskar nimbly picked up his spear, which only rarely missed its target, and they all ran up the stone steps, leaving their fear to the echo of their steps.

Chapter XXXIV: Shadow Hornets

They climbed into a long corridor framed by pairs of inlaid windows. The moon above them shone with an unnaturally strong glow, and the colored glass changed its cold rays from silver to a pale blue color inside the corridor.

Arsia quickly jumped to one of the large windows and smashed the glass surface with her staff. Fragments of glass flew in all directions, and to everyone’s wonder, a reddened ray of sun shone through the opening.

Súlin cautioned his friends in a low voice to step away from the windows, and with a gentle gesture, he invoked a powerful air strike. This, accompanied by a deafening crash, cleared the window frames of all glass. The falling fragments played with myriads of shades of red and fell into the inner garden of the house. Their consciousnesses cleared, and the cooled blood in their veins again spread through their bodies in a pleasant warm current.

“The real night will come any moment,” the elf interrupted their optimistic thoughts dryly.

The corridor ended with a closed door shrouded in shadow. At a prearranged signal, the young warrior cautiously opened the door. What he saw behind it, however, forced him to quickly step aside. In a large darkened room beyond a short covered bridge connecting this building with the neighboring house, he was spotted by a being whose power apparently shrouded this entire place in shadows. The dread it spread around itself paralyzed Anskar’s mind for a moment. Arsia froze for an instant in an effort to reverse the Inversion of this place, but she encountered the extraordinary strength of the consciousness of the shadow monster.

Suddenly, a crackling whistle cut the air. A fireball filled with white flame struck the monster with crushing force. A terrifying hiss was heard. A strong headache struck everyone without distinction.

The monster swallowed the fire that was introduced into its body as if it had fallen into a deep black well, but its massive bulk decreased. They felt the need for defense against the inevitable retaliation. With a practiced movement, the roadman braced his spear against his leg and awaited the onslaught. The elven mage meanwhile created a force shield, the strongest he was able to invoke.

To their horror, however, the creature began to crumble with a great crash into the smallest pieces, which began to roll toward them in large swarms. They covered the shield from all sides and penetrated around its edges among them. Soon they had stinging hornets in their eyes, faces, hair, and under their clothes. Blindly, paralyzed by pain and shock, they groped for the windows.

As soon as Anskar entered the direct sunlight, the black stinging insects from which he was protecting his eyes suddenly flared with bright fire. Soon the twisted cinders fell to the ground like clouds of black soot. They were burned by the sun’s rays, which at that moment seemed cold to everyone compared to the burning wounds on their bodies into which the poison of the shadow hornets had entered.

They climbed onto the ledge of a large window and leaned exhaustedly against the wall. When the pain of the injuries eased, Arsia saw strange white spots on the young warrior’s skin. She looked at her hands—they were there too… she felt an unknown kind of weakness in the spots—her magical luminosity, or aura, was paralyzed and weakened in those places, as if it were attacked by some disease.

“It is lucky that they recede under the influence of the sun,” she said to the others. “For you, Anskar, it probably isn’t so fundamental, but my magical aura is strongly disrupted by the attack of those treacherous insects, and it will take some time before it is completely restored.”

“I feel it too, Arsia,” answered Súlin, who had just taken off his cloak and leaned against the wooden frame of the high window, fixing his gaze on the fading glow of the sunset.