Legend of Axiatés
J.B. Kleynhans
Legend of Axiatés
Episode 2
Copyright 2016 by J.B. Kleynhans
Episode 2
Delegan was summoned to her chambers. At three o’ clock in the morning the Mortar did not even allow him a chance to empty his bladder after waking him rudely. They insisted he come urgently. At seventy years of age, not getting a chance to relieve himself was a real annoyance, but he would go about his business the moment he had attended the problem. With his drowsiness slowly fading from his mind, any discomfiture Delegan had was suddenly overshadowed by the anxiety of meeting the Goddess for the first time. Although the Goddess had been with the Mortar for some time, Delegan had only joined up with the entourage late yesterday. Judging by the Mortar soldier next to him, he guessed that he was not being rushed to the Goddess for any kind of pleasantries.
Delegan was still not sure what he was doing here and why he was a part of this mission:
He had been entrusted by the brothers of Athomos to oversee the journey of the Goddess to Doma Arak. It was deemed necessary that the Highest One had one of the most esteemed librarians as council into the great unknown that was the home of the Imperials.
Why they thought she needed a handler was above him, especially seeing that he could only contribute in an intellectual capacity. Of course he was not the worst diplomat in the world, in fact, if he had to elaborate on that he would raise a few arguments as to why he was a very good one. But at this stage of his life he simply did not have the energy for it anymore and the men who sent him on this expedition knew this about him.
Yesterday they had all rendezvoused at the very opulent Bellatoir Manor of Lord Charlan. His family were the self-proclaimed lords of a very small but very wealthy state wedged between the huge dynasties of Sepulchra and the west border of Tulan, an arid country. Lord Charlan was simply known as a rich upstart by those who cared to take notice of his existence. He was unlikely to offer his house as a checkpoint for just anyone, but there was maybe not a man alive today who could currently afford to turn Axiatés away from his door.
The fool had reportedly tried to seduce the Goddess once she arrived at his gates, an encounter during which he had embarrassed himself greatly if the story Delegan was told was to be believed. That should have been more than enough reason for Axiatés to simply press on past his manor and leave the idiot forever with the reputation of trying to distract the Goddess while she was on a mission of safeguarding the continued existence of mankind. Lord Charlan’s hospitality however would be the last civilized stop for some time, so everyone was happy when Axiatés chose to ignore the slight and happy that they could arrange the Goddess's stay here. Delegan himself was thankful that they would have some comforts before straying into the more unforgiving territories of Tulan.
The men from Sepulchra who guarded the Goddess were called the Mortars, the elite combat division of the dynasties in the west. The name was derivative from the men who had once steered an artillery division along the waterways, rivers and fjords of the northern border where the Kingdom of Sepulchra and Doman Arak had their most fiercely contested territory. Doma Arak had been winning the war as long as anyone could remember. But the Mortar division in question had wreaked havoc on the Imperial forces to the north. Instead of pulling out, the Imperials pushed fifty thousand men into a part of the world that was a strategic nightmare.
The Sepulchra military struck again in similar fashion and tore the Imperials to shreds and the war was called off given the amount of casualties. Saying that that peace was declared wasn't an apt description either - it was merely a stalemate that lasted for a 120 years by now. Instead, Sepulchra and Doma Arak turned their attentions to countries and states lying in between the two superpowers, trying to starve each other of influence and resources. With each trying to extend their reach as far they possibly could, it was not strange to see soldiers in the Mortar uniform just about anywhere in the western world: the stark yellow-gold body armour valued its awe more than any kind of stealth. It was even more brazen than the dark and grey colours of the Imperials, who also did not incorporate any camouflage into its design. Both of the unions were too proud to compromise the colours of their proud heritage for the sake of something as trivial as the loss of men's lives. That little fact of these two superpowers alone was indicative of the underlying reasons for conflict; it was an egotistical pursuit of power, the conquest of things that had it to be measured by any sane man would be deemed vain. At least that is how Delegan saw it.
What Delegan was part of though would be quite unique. The Goddess, if one could be convinced that she possibly belonged to one faction over another, was native to Sepulchra. She had no love for those who ruled Sepulchra, but it was as close to a homeland as she had. Their entourage however was destined to deliver the Goddess to Doma Arak, in a cooperative move between the two nations in a bid to accomplish the most significant feat mankind has ever undertaken. This sudden joint venture did not come from nothing. The brightest scientists of both Sepulchra and Doma Arak had been toting a crucial discovery in front of the noses of rulers who would never see eye to eye: the Sun, the beginning of everything, was coming to an end.
That was certainly enough for unions of endless pride to set aside thoughts of conquest until such a time as they could go to sleep without the fear of the sun not rising. Delegan was well aware that if everyone's greatest fear did come to pass, it would not even include a scenario where men woke to a cold and dark world, waiting for the sphere of the earth to simply flash freeze. No; the sun would not go quietly and be snuffed like a candle. At its last, it was likely to expand violently, and given its size and energy, it would burst across space in a huge ripple, smashing and obliterating the planets and their moons that stood within its solar system. They would all be here one moment, and in the last great roar of the sun, be gone the next.
So one power could deliver the Goddess, while the other had an answer to her creating or renewing the sun.What the Imperials had to offer, Delegan was not certain, but he had heard reliably from one of his brother librarians that they had technologies to aid the Goddess in her mission.
Walking the corridors along with a Commander of the Mortars, the reason for Lord Charlan’s wealth hung from the very ceilings of the manor. His family had discovered ways to mould singing crystals. They were strange things. The house, however intricate, was built so that a breeze could sweep through most of the building if one set of windows were left open. The crystals, hanging from the ceiling with tiny strings or from the light fittings, bristled in the wind, and for the secret way in which they were crafted, took on the properties of a number of musical instruments.The sounds the crystals made unnerved him, leading him to the antechamber of Bellatoir. Frankly, Delegan did not understand how anyone stayed here for any extended period of time without going crazy.
‘You need to talk some sense into the High One,’ said the Commander.
‘Why me?’
‘Because you’re not a Mortar. And they said you’ll understand her better than the rest of us. ’
‘What exactly is going on if I might ask?’
The Commander sighed. ‘We have a traitor or two, within our own ranks. They were going to ask the Goddess to hold a court judgement on the souls of recently departed brothers-in-arms, the story being that they were not given proper burial rights and might fail to depart our world without help.’
‘Is the Goddess in charge of our souls now?’ asked Delegan.
‘What she is capable of or not is beside the point. She saw fit to hear the men out in the antechamber as though she had real authority in the matter.When she sat dow
n for them to make their plea, they turned their weapons on her!’
‘That could not have ended well,’ said Delegan.
‘That’s the problem old man, it didn’t end at all. I don’t know if the Goddess would have defended herself, but many of my men rushed in to detain the traitors. A brief exchange of fire ensued. The traitors were mowed down quickly, but there is now some confusion as to who the traitors were to begin with. The Goddess is demanding that the wounded be killed as a safety measure, and as a warning to any traitors who remain. But my second in command is refusing the Goddess’s order.’
Delegan processed the explanation. The Mortars, being uniformly dressed posed a certain problem when it came to identification amongst them. Every inch, including their heads, were covered, their helmets elongated at the jaw to form two pointed ornamental tusks, or mandibles the way Delegan saw it. That together with their eyes sitting behind perfectly round many-facetted glass lenses, made them look like they had drawn inspiration from a family of insects, the layered armour