All that Christill could think of, sitting in the gloomy Academy classroom, was the celebration which was set to start in a few hours. Today was the last day of the three hundredth and fifty second year of the sixth age. In honour of the occasion, the Karmanian people where throwing a city wide festival. Food and drink had been carted into the city from every corner of the land. Bakers and cooks ran hectically through their kitchens making the last preparations for a great feast. Christill's mouth began to water at the thought of freshly roasted venison turning slowly over glowing hot coals. He pictured the fat sliding down the meat and into the flames with a loud sizzle. His attention was then drawn back to the class as Yhu called his name.
"Yes master," Christill replied instinctively. The Elder looked down at Christill from the front of the room, an odd smile ever present on her slender face.
"Pay attention," she warned him.
"Sorry," Christill apologised.
Yhu turned and slowly began again. "You all know that when the magic from Teefarrnur passes the Temple of White, it travels into the Third Plane to provide energy for the guardian gods. They alone then have the power to pass it through to our realm, Fellarrnur. Yet only a portion of the energy from our plane returns to the gods, and that passes through the Realm of the Damned."
Christill listened to Yhu's teachings and felt lost. Realm of the Damned, Temple of White. What was she talking about?
Yhu spotted Christill's perplexed look and addressed him once more. "What seems to be the problem?"
At first Christill hesitated, unwilling to show that he had not been listening, but soon the profound silence in the classroom forced him to speak. "I have never heard of these places you speak of. What is the Temple of White?"
"Why it is one of the many planes," Yhu answered.
"What do you mean many planes? My understanding was that there were only three planes of existence. Teefarrnur for the gods, Fellarrnur for the mortal races, and the Third Plane as the link between them."
Yhu shook her head and laughed girlishly. "Silly boy. There are hundreds of planes. We simply do not interact with them. Most of them we cannot even begin to comprehend. Yet the five planes that I speak of are those of which we have some knowledge. Knowledge passed down to us by Nyrune. Your own lack of understanding is merely a result of a Miirvkin upbringing, Christill. Beon's disciples are wise for mortal men, but he shares little with them. They are also too arrogant to learn from us. Their inherent ignorance causes them to think that Beon has provided them with all of the knowledge regarding our world and the planes surrounding it. We have tried to share our teachings with them many times, but for our troubles we were accused of heresy and thrown from their lands."
Christill was ashamed of his ignorance and glanced at his Karmanian classmates. To his surprise he found looks of sympathy and several warm smiles. They were not laughing at him or making fun of his confusion. Instead, Christill's classmates genuinely understood his situation and were compassionate. Relief replaced his shame. Finally he had found a place where he could be at peace.
"What you need to know is that the world we know is a miniscule dot on a plane, amongst a vast ocean of planes," Yhu pointed out. "Kovi exists in Fellarrnur, but there are countless other worlds like it on this plane. Worlds created by gods more ancient and powerful than Kovicus."
"And are their other races of men on these worlds?" Christill probed.
Yhu raised her hands in an unsure gesture. "It is possible, but we have no knowledge of them. Our knowledge comes from our own guardian gods, and they choose to keep Kovi separate from the rest of Fellarrnur. I am sure that you know that Fellarrnur is linked to Teefarrnur through the Third Plane. What it seems you do not know is that there is a plane called Oundterrnur that lies, one could say, in between Fellarrnur and the Third Plane. The Karmanians call Oundterrnur the Realm of the Damned, for once something finishes its existence in Fellarrnur, its energy passes through the Realm of the Damned in order to be returned to the gods. However, the guardian gods must retrieve this energy from Oundterrnur themselves and thus they may pick and choose what is returned to them. This is where it's dreadful name comes from. When a man or woman pass away, their life energies are carried into Oundterrnur. If the guardian gods judge that person to be unjust or unworthy they will be left in the Realm of the Damned."
"Forced to wander Oundterrnur as spectres forever," a girl to the right of Christill piped in.
"Thank you Allia," Yhu said with a smile. Christill then remembered his own death and how Dievu had brought him back from the brink of passing from Fellarrnur. Had he been on his way to Oundterrnur? Was he going to be judged?
Yhu continued, "Those who are taken through to the Third Plane are then given peace, and their energy is returned to this world in the form of new life. This lore is not known to many outside of the academies of Nyrune and Skiye. The Council of Elders long ago decided that our people would be better off without knowledge of Oundterrnur."
"But don't they have a right to know?" Christill reflected. "If people knew that they would be judged upon leaving this plane they would have a chance to do some good in their lives. To avoid eternal damnation."
"I can understand your feelings, Christill," Yhu replied sympathetically. "However the disciples of Nyrune do their best to teach our people to be fair and compassionate. If they follow our teachings then they will have no trouble when they face the judgement of Nyrune. Know that there are rumours amongst the people of Oundterrnur, and many of those who are highly devout live their lives believing that they will indeed be taken to Oundterrnur. However, as the Council of Elders openly denies the existence of the plane outside of the Academy, the general populous are free from any worry."
Christill was astounded at the Council of Elders reasoning. This was a blatant abuse of power. He then recalled Nyrune's words to him before she had granted him use of her magic. She had told him of corruption amongst the seven privileged. Was this what she meant? He had not told anyone what Nyrune had said to him for fear of punishment. He decided to turn the conversation away from the topic. "So what then is the Temple of White?" he asked.
"Ah yes," said Yhu with another giggle. "The Temple is our name for Krisarrnur. This plane lies between the Third Plane and Teefarrnur. No mortal will ever enter the Temple of White and it is one plane we know of that is still a great mystery to us. What the Nyrune has told us is that the Temple of White is made up entirely of a substance that channels the raw energy of Teefarrnur into our planes. Krisarrnur acts like a sponge to suck up the magic of the plane of the gods and pass it into the Third Plane for our guardian gods."
Christill nodded his comprehension. He had wondered how the gods recovered the energy that they expelled into Kovi. The lesson went on and soon Yhu finished her long winded teachings and asked the class to move on. The students picked up their books and filed out of the ancient room, passing walls covered in faded maps and scraps of famous writings. Christill moved up to some of the other students and walked with them down the large academy corridors. The inside of the compound displayed nature's beauty with potted plants and ferns lining the walls and creeping vines covering the ceiling in a lush web.
The remainder of the day travelled slowly for Christill. He was well aware that this had much to do with his yearning to take part in the celebrations that would beckon in the new year.
Finally the day's lessons ended. Each member of the Council of Elders taught the students once a week. The classes themselves varied widely, covering natural history, politics, spirituality and scribing. The students were also obliged to take practical classes provided by Velski, Dietrue and Vischia. During these lessons Christill and his peers learned craftsmanship, animal husbandry and, most importantly, how to use their newly acquired magic.
Christill said a warm goodbye to his new friends and made promises to seek them out at the festivities that night. It had now been two long months since Christill had spoken with the Karmanian goddess and his life had changed. He had
been led across half of Feldom in service to Dievu, only to be kidnapped by Novokai and his Primals. Despite all of the hardship he now found himself more at peace.
Yet Christill could not shake the scepticism that so oft crept into his mind. He had long ago learnt that good things do not last forever and the past weeks had been too good. Since his audience with Nyrune, he was yet to tell anyone of the strange tremors he felt on the Third Plane. He held a fear that he was somehow the cause of the strange things that had happened that day and was not willing to risk his spot in the academy by alerting the Council of Elders to it.
Turning his thoughts to brighter things, he made his way through the old complex and found Vrill and Friedrich waiting eagerly, perched on the railing of one of the academy's many fountains.
"You took your time," Vrill shouted out. "All the food is going to be gone by the time we get there!"
"I was too busy going through your things," replied Christill jovially.
"That would actually be humorous if I had things," Vrill returned with a self satisfied smirk. "Thanks to Mandigal, I have naught but the clothes I'm in."
"Today is a day for celebration, not smart comments, my surly cousin," Friedrich added.
"Come on. Let's go have some much deserved fun," Christill suggested. Friedrich and Vrill both concurred and leapt from the fountain.
Together they entered the city centre where the celebrations had already begun. Hordes of Duathnin's citizens filled the forest floor, moving amongst tables laden with larder and drinks; suckling pigs glazed in honey and roasted geese lying on beds of potato and blackberries. On smaller tables, fig and apple pies and orange cakes sent heavenly aromas into the air. Friedrich passed a haunch of venison and ripped off a large piece, handing some to Christill and Vrill. They devoured it eagerly, looking for more. Children ran noisily in and out of legs and under tables, chasing each other with wooden toys and scraps of food. The three companions laughed as a large Karmanian cook chased a young boy through the crowd, trying to regain possession of a plate of pumpkins filled with sweetcorn and onions.
Some treated the foreigners with hostility, but for the most part they were welcomed to tables. Friedrich ate, laughed and drank honey milk with Karmanians that he had never met and soon he found his opinion of the often self centred race warming.
The air was thick with merriment and the sounds of delight and even Vrill found it hard to keep a sour demeanour. As the end of the year drew to a close, disciples walked amongst the crowd using their magic to create fantastic illusions that lit up the night sky. Christill, feeling brave, tried one himself. To the delight of the little children surrounding him, he produced a ball of bright green light that exploded into a shower of sparks that tickled their skin as it rained down. Vrill returned from one of the more active tables with three more cups of honey milk and the three friends joined cups to bring in the new year. A great shout escaped from the crowd as the midnight hour arrived and for one night the troubles of a war torn world were forgotten.
CHAPTER TWENTY ONE
A DANGEROUS REQUEST