Chapter IV - The Council Decides

Apologies that this update has been so long in coming; I've been writing quite constantly but haven't had much time to upload it. In this installment we learn more about the peoples of the world and the council finally comes to a decision. There's more written, and it'll be up soon. I hope you enjoy it, please pass on the word to other people as I am hoping to eventually send this manuscript off to agents/publishers, hence feedback is always welcomed too!
Either drop me a comment, or an EMail to bkelly.cs@gmail.com or hit me up on Twitter: @BKellyCS

In a time long ago, after the First Coming of Black Fire but long before the Second, the world had known several great races. Of course there were humans, prolific and adaptable, they were found in almost all the corners of the globe. In the mountains and ash wastes were the Fireborn, a reptilian race of dragon like beings. Slow to anger but slow to forgive, they were a stout and reliable race of nomads, well learned in the ways of survival and enamoured of gems and gold. It was said that a Fireborn guide could lead you anywhere safely, for the right price.

From the north of the world were the elves, a once proud race driven to the brink of extinction in the First Coming. They had never truly recovered and, forced into acts of vileness in the name of survival, their society had crumbled, descending into an evil shadow of their former selves. Pockets of elves were still found in the great Ravenwood, and other settlements were scattered around, but a harsh existence had robbed them of mercy and compassion, and warped them into a cruel race of pillagers and murderers.

The Pastures were home to the mountainous Minotaur Tribes, a peaceful nation of hunter-gatherers who lived side-by-side with the peaceful river folk, travelling humans who lived their entire lives on or by the stretches of water that criss-crossed the Pastures like a spiders web.

South of Castelmaine lay the great desert, and beyond that, the shimmering Salt Flats of Izo Gaza. The Izori were a grey skinned humanoid race that, though often possessed of great beauty, kept themselves hidden, huddled beneath hooded black robes. Each had vibrant orange-red eyes and long serpentine tongues which through the years had given them a reputation as devils and servants of darkness, a reputation wholly unwarranted. In fact, during the Second Coming, the guerrilla fighters of the Izori nations had fought the hardest, lost the most, but held on unrelentingly. Mighty was their determination, and pious were they who survived that great cataclysm.

Then there were the Espers. An enigmatic and mysterious race, the Espers only began to appear to civilisation after the First Coming, taking meek and tenuous steps into the kingdoms of the other races. Beings of pure magic, they were able to assume the form of the peoples they lived amongst, and to weave marvels upon the physical for, of the world. So it was that the Espers were held in the highest regard, and many took up positions of honour within their parent nations.

When the light of magic began to dim and settle after the shattering, so too did the power of the Espers wane and most found themselves unable to alter their form and their powers diminished. Still were their works great and marvellous, and so comfortable were they in their societies that these changes did little to unnerve the Espers and they continued on as they always had.

During the chaos of the Second Coming of Black Fire and the following war, the Esper race was shattered. Many Espers took up the mantle of the battlemage, and thousands upon thousands died upon the field of battle. The Great Enemy knew of the Espers too, and His agents moved through the shadows to hunt the survivors. So it was that the last Esper fell, and the ancient and proud race descended into legend and then myth. The Esper race was lost, or so it had seemed.

"She is the last of the line of Karys," said Auden Marr.

"How can you know this?" Gideon asked slowly, almost distrustingly.

"Mozu-Beric told me this after meeting Folk earlier today."

Gideon nodded, he would not question the Great Wyrm, though he did wonder how she was so sure.

"This is all ever so touching," came he rasping voice of Koja, "But nobody has suggested what we are to do about these events. Was that not the entire purpose of this council?"

"Do they not teach patience and the ability to listen at Eriad?" Growled Fion.

A tension was in the air and the council threatened to descend back into argument. Melciah stepped forward swiftly.

"Listen," he said simply, "Do you not understand the importance of all this? These events are all linked, and the girl may not be as unassuming as you may reckon."

"And what do you know of this, Night Child?" Fion asked, her choler still high and noticable in her voice.

Melciah sighed deeply, "She is an Esper, a race that the Great Enemy saw to eradicate during the war, a goal He took great pains to achieve."

Gideon swallowed, none could forget what had happened to the isle of Karys off the eastern coasts of the Great Western Continent. To this day the people of Port Casio were still dealing with the vile wash up from those events. It had been the single greatest act of terror and distruction in a war where those terms had become commonplace.

"That is where my path led me." He continued slowly, "I took a ship to those darkling halls to answer the questions that seared in my mind."

"Questions of your own nature?" Kamar ventured, more a statement than question.

Melciah nodded, "I needed to know more about what had made me."

Gideons face twisted at the reminder. He and Melciah had been close once, close as brothers and more, but during the war he had been changed irrevocably. For a time, a fell darkness had gripped Melciah's soul and Gideon had taken near steps to destroying his old friend out of mercy, or perhaps disgust. He remembered their youth, so long ago now it seemed, studying in the halls of Berican University, long summers and days of happiness. A playful competitiveness had risen between them and they had been inseparable.

Until, that is, the day that Melciah changed.

"It is what I found there that is most startling," he continued, "For amongst the eternal night there in the far off distance stood one tower of the Cathedral, and fires flickered in the uppermost windows. I moored the boat and slipped into the lifeless streets - lifeless but not empty for the shades of that blighted isle still linger, but I was to learn that the island held worse secrets and creatures. As I made my way through the town, the bells tolled thirteen times and the light flickered and died, but I pressed on regardless and eventually came to the Cathedral gates. Beyond that rusted iron barrier I slipped and into the cathedral proper."

Gideon narrowed his eyes, Melciah still had not lost his love for theatrics and flare. "What did you find?" He asked impatiently, then cursed himself for his rudeness. If Melciah cared he didn't show it, he just smiled and continued.

"I shall cut to it, then. In those dank halls I found signs of life and activity. With my new... talents... I was able to observe a cult in service to demons and The Lord of the Void. I had arrived too late to stop the ritual atop the tower, but I could at least ascertain its purpose from the smouldering remains and several texts lifted from the site. It seems that Folk is not as unknown as we would hope. The Great Enemy knows of her and is seeking her. I heard talk of emissaries sent into the cities of the world, though again they had gone before my arrival. I learned that some had been sent to my old home, here, and so I left in pursuit. Though I had not seen them for the better part of a week, I dealt with two of them posing as Huszari in Old Town. The others I do not know of."

"I fear I may." Auden Marr said slowly with trepidation.

"Speak what you know, Marr." Gideon said, knowing that this must be why Mozu-Beric had sent him.

He cleared his throat, "Yestereve, at sunset, two figures cloaked in the black shrouds of the Ravenwood elves leapt from the Obsidian Tower of Amlec into Yeo-Van-"

"You mean to implicate Amlec?" Mother Giyan interjected, clearly her blood was hot and her choler high.

"Peace, Mother." Marr raised a bare arm in supplication, "I make no such implication. They were not of the city. Your tower I believe was chosen more for situation than any other factor."

"Though it is strange indeed that that very night the tower should then vanish, making all investigation impossible." Ealm muttered.

"The pieces are indeed coming together like strands of a grand tapestry; only by taking a step back are we now seeing the grand design to it all." Melciah wrinkled his mouth into a wry smile, "Please, continue."

"There's not much else to say. They leapt from the tower and spread open the leathery wings of their attire and glided as bats silently over the south eastern wall and were lost beneath the blossoms."

"You are sure that they were elves?"

"No, Gideon. I said only that they wore the attire of the Ravenwood elves. My people had many altercations with them during the war. It is possible, however, just not certain."

"Has word been sent to the monastery?" Gruhn the Centaur asked in a tone of urgency, "They must be warned!"

"Of course," Marr replied, "Mozu-Beric sent an envoy as soon as she heard, though I don't doubt that the warrior monks will have seen to the intruders themselves."

Melciah shook his head, "Then show me their bodies. No, without proof to the contrary we must assume these interlopers remain undetected. Unless the Monastery has already sent word back?"

"I've not received word that they have."

"Owin?" Melciah turned to the robed figure, who gave a short shake of his head.

"Nothing has come to me either." Owin stated simply.

"Then no assumptions can be made."

Fion wrinkled her nose in thought, licking her top lip with a forked tongue absent-mindedly, and began counting on her long wiry fingers, "So, for clarity, we have a city experiencing mass hallucinations; possibly the last Esper on Evalaria; two black clad intruders who may or may not have infiltrated one of the most sensitive chambers in the known world; a disappearing tower; activity on the Blighted Isle; and the return of the Night Child."

Melciah, who had been nodding along at each count, paused and spun to face Fion, "Say again?"

"I'm sorry, Night Child," she continued calmly, "But your return on the same nigh as all this kicks off is more than a little coincidental. Honeyed words and a powerful knowledge of these events do little to remove suspicion from you - in fact, quite the opposite."

"You do seem very well informed." Kamar added.

"For reasons I have explained." Melciah answered.

"Perhaps, and I do not call you a liar," she smiled warmly back as if trying to placate him, "I just wish to be honest and inform you that you are not above suspicion as being a part of all of this. Perhaps even unwittingly, you may be another pawn in the grand scheme of these events. I mean no insult, but we must consider all possibilities here."

Melciah was about to speak, his eyes were widening and his jaw slackening, but Ealm put a hand softly on the crook of his arm and spoke. "Pen, she's right. Who's to say that what you witnessed on Karys wasn't a set up? We're talking about the agents of the Great Enemy, Mortelkir himself. Anything is possible, right?"

He let out a deep sigh, "You're right, of course."

"So what do we do about this all?" Mother Giyan asked, much calmer than her previous outbursts. Her quills had also stopped quivering, perhaps her blood had finally cooled.

"We wait to hear from Yeo-Van, of course." Koja answered, then let out a hacking cough.

"Wait?! What time is this for inaction, coward? If the monks have not answered we must take the fight to them!" Gruhn roared, punching his meaty fist into the air.

"Peace, the both of you." Gideon spoke loudly, adamant not to let the council disintegrate at this time, 

"This is neither the time for inaction or brash moves. Subtlety is our only tool here."

It was Marr to speak next, placing a hand on Gideons shoulder, "You sound like you have a plan, Gideon. What do you have in mind?"

"We need to know what's going on in Yeo-Van. We need to keep Folk safe from discovery. We need to find out more of the enemy's plans. These three things are vital to us. Keeping Folk safe is the immediate priority."

"And I know just where." Marr added.

Gideon nodded, "Mozu-Beric. Can you see to it immediately?"

Marr nodded, bowed his farewell and jogged off into the darkness without further word. No sooner had his hoof steps faded beyond earshot, Gideon turned back to the rest of the crowd.

"That leaves Yeo-Van and Karys."

"Leave Yeo-Van to me." Fion said, "I'll take a team into the tunnels, slip past the monks and find out what's going on. The monks won't help us if we ask them, they see their problems as their own, and if we ask them they'll tighten right up."

"That sounds like a good plan."

"I'll go too," Mother Giyan added, "You'll never make it through the labyrinth without a Fireborn guide."

"Very well." Fion nodded, "Assemble a team of your most trusted, two or three at most and no clanking armour."

Mother Giyan nodded, "We have no time to spare. We'll assemble at the south gate at dawn tomorrow."

"Then we are to journey to Karys." Gideon stated firmly, "Melciah and I."

Melciah looked at Gideon with wide eyed surprise. Gideon caught his glance.

"Out of necessity, Melciah."

"I'm coming too. It'll be just like old times." Ealm added.

Koja glanced to Gruhn and then back to Gideon and Melciah, "So what of us?"

"We need eyes and ears around the city, and I know Eriad and Dramor are skilled in those areas. Keep a watch within this city, and send word to us of any developments."

Kamar and Koja both nodded, Owin unfolded his arms and inclined his head in agreement, Gruhn shot him a quizzical glance, "And what would you have the Conclave do, Timechaser?"

"Your people are great healers and warriors. You must stand ready to defend this city with the City Guard now that many of the Huszari are away. This task I hope will be simplest, but fear will be of the direst importance."

Gruhn nodded, twisting his mouth into the closest thing to a smile that Gideon had ever seen the old centaur make.

"So shall it be done, Gideon of Berican. The Conclave will protect this city!"

"Very good." Gideon smiled, "So each have their tasks and duties, now must we enact them."

Fion smiled, stepped forward and placed a hand softly on Gideons shoulder. "I wish you all the luck in the world, Gideon. May your passage on that blighted place be swift and without incident. Be safe."

Without further word, flickering blue flames consumed her and she was gone. Mother Giyan, Kamar and Owin each bowed and ducked away from the council, leaving Melciah, Gideon and Ealm alone in the darkness.

"Just like old times..." Ealm muttered, her voice thick with sarcasm.