Machine, page 12
part #1 of The Peradran Legacy Series
CHAPTER TEN
THE RITUAL
I was in the Suit, in the Library. The light seemed to emit from where I was standing, floor level. I looked around, all the lamps were dark. Then I noticed a twinge of pain in my left arm. I realized it was the sensor suit, improperly adjusted to my body, a feedback loop resulted in a minor but steady current. I squirmed my arm, to try and adjust the sensor suit correctly. Reflexively I reached with my right, as if I could reach there. After that the current stopped. I was able to move the Suit freely. I stepped back to see the floor – to where the light came from. The pale marble was glossy, the light just seemed to reflect off of it. There was no source.
I looked deeper into the reflection. A figure stood, upside-down, wearing black robes. Again there was no source in the Library to cause the reflection. Pale hands reached out from the limp sleeves toward the light. The hands moved, each gesture was made with a snap at the wrists. Both hands moved in sync. I felt the Arcane presence growing. The glossy light seemed to reach out in narrow rays. Then the lamps ignited, illuminating the entire room in an instant. The upside-down figure appeared more clearly, it continued to gesture, more and more animatedly as it went. Soon the Arcane presence overwhelmed me. I blacked out again.
I mused unconsciously of my friend and copilot Kevin, he lay strapped with steel bands on a tilted bench. He was howling remorsefully at his condition. From deep inside he bellowed, “Kill me! Kill me! Now! Do it now!”
His face was wrinkled inside the helmet. Frantic eyes searched the room. He repeated his death wish over and over, until I awoke. The nightmare burned bright in my mind.
I was in a bed, a fireplace warmed the air. I guessed by the burning logs that I had such a fire for only a short time. There was still a chill in the air that suggested the room was previously unoccupied.
Opposite the fireplace, next to the bed, was a closed door. Light reached out from under it. I was wearing bed clothes. The skin suit was nowhere to be seen. I remained lying down, my head was pounding.
Amid the calm atmosphere I sensed the Arcane presence, which was joined by footsteps outside. A shadow appeared in the light under the door. There was a gentle knock followed by another when I didn't answer. It was Cohiri.
“Eric, are you awake?” She whispered from outside.
“Yes, come in.” I sat up against the backboard as she entered.
“How are you feeling?” Her manner was timid, apologetic.
“My head is pounding, other than that I'm fine. I think.” She visibly relaxed. She stood with the door open. Outside was an indoor balcony with an iron railing. “Do you have anything for my head?” I held my hands over my eyes and rubbed my temples.
“Sure. I'll be right back.” She left and quietly closed the door behind her.
I returned to lying prone, it eased the pain. There was no doubt my condition was a result of Cohiri's Arcane research.
I wondered if my experience in the Suit was real or not. Being in Peradra was a perplexing equation of Earth science combined with local Arcane forces. My resulting position left me vulnerable to the will of other-dimensional logic. A logic based on a reality thought impossible but so closely connected to my own, enough that I questioned my own perceptions. It seemed so real, I had no idea if what transpired was possible, or likely.
I drifted off to sleep, the dream was there to greet me. This time in an isolation chamber. Kevin was immobilized electronically. His rage was not, he was crying in deep sobs. His fused eyes produced no tears. It made his pain even greater. I could feel his self pity like a perpetual wave that never calmed. I had no presence to him, he was alone. The cruel cameras recorded every moment, from all angles. I was forced to watch as he wallowed in anguish, trapped inside metal skin. No longer Human among Humans. A subject for study, denied compassion. His will to live and love life was gone, stolen by the Void. Stolen by Alan and Theo Panopolis, together he hated and feared both of them. What was next.
Cohiri's voice rescued me from the terrible vision. “...Eric? Does your head still hurt?” She was holding a tall goblet of brass with both hands. She offered it to me when I opened my eyes.
I thought for a moment, the pain remained prominent. I accepted the potion. The metal was luke warm. “Just drink? And how long does it take?” The potion smelled dry.
“Just drink and in a moment you will feel restored. Morbannon made it fresh, and said you should drink it all at once.” The goblet was easily over a pint and full of the dry smelling remedy.
I put the goblet to my lips and chugged. It had no taste and went down easily, it was thin like water. I returned the empty goblet to Cohiri who seemed strangely curious. I waited for the results.
Soon the pain was gone. Actually I felt quite good, rested and invigorated.
“Where are some clothes, that stuff works great!” I shoved off the covers and put my feet over the side of the bed. Cohiri was smiling, almost smirking. “What? What is that smile for?”
She answered with satisfaction, “Truthfully, I wasn't sure if the potion would work. He made it so fast I couldn't believe it. He is concerned about your welfare but is very busy preparing for the Ritual. I think we are both to be involved. He needs us up and running.”
She paused then added, “I'm just glad it worked so well.” She moved toward the fire. There was something else she wanted to say but she held it back, so I asked.
“What happened in the Library and how long have I been sleeping?” She faced away from me regarding the fire absently and remained silent. She seemed tense suddenly, reluctant.
“I know you were the cause.” Admitting it for her got her started.
“Ok, I was studying how to fly. All I had to do was memorize the diagram and make it work once, then I would've had it. Somehow I got it wrong, instead of controlling the air directly around me, I changed the air throughout the Keep. I thought it was working when the lights dimmed. I tried harder. I didn't know my own strength.” She pondered what to say next. The fire popped as I waited patiently. “If Morbannon hadn't saved you, you would have died.” She glanced over to see my expression. I was stoic.
“Just how did he do that?” I hoped she knew, it would have eased my doubts. Unfortunately she did not.
“He told me to leave immediately and run the lab for him. I didn't see you again until you saw me, sorry.” She could tell I was confused and needed answers. She spoke my next thought. “Morbannon won't have time to explain, not right away. All he cares about now is the Ritual.”
Her serious tone convinced me that I should be resigned to play out his Ritual before getting any information. I wanted his help in many ways. If I remained useful, I had a better chance of getting it.
She finished her answer, “You've been sleeping for only a couple of hours. Give or take a desand.” A desand was a Peradran measure that equaled about twenty minutes. More slang than proper; a desand would be a ‘while’ in English.
“I was up to my chin in keeping up with Morbannon's projects.”
She moved over to a closet, opened it and said, “Here are some clothes, they might fit.” She brushed through the garments with her fingers.
“They're a bit formal but they're better than that flimsy thing you arrived in.” She turned and faced me. “I'll let you dress, then meet me in the hall.” With that she left the room, closing the door behind her.
The closet was half full with colorful garments. Shirts were hung on shaped hangers, designed to retain a wrinkle free state. Pants were folded neatly on shelves. Various undergarments occupied a deep drawer. Peradran garb was not unlike that of the Renaissance, layered and designed with complicated cloth fasteners. Subtle differences in the quality of the material and dyes were apparent, the weave was nearly the same as that of modern Earth.
I found some articles that seemed to fit. I wore light blue pants that fit closely in the calves and a white shirt with a laced front. Over the shirt I had on a paisley vest of similar blue to the pants. A pair of slightly loose fitting boots fit up to my knees. There were neck ties of a sort but I left those alone. The silky material was dressy enough without accessories.
When I thought I was set I went out into the hall. A few feet away Cohiri leaned on the railing admiring the paintings in the foyer. She turned when I stepped out.
“Come on, you should eat some more. That potion won't last for ever, you need your strength.” She led the way back to the kitchen.
The same presence greeted me when I entered the kitchen, it was all about the room. “Hey.” I spoke in English but she answered in her native tongue.
“What?” Cohiri was going about the routine of locating food and drink as I spoke.
“Can you sense the Arcane like I do? Or do you have to try to feel it?” I was idle as she passed me a loaf of bread.
“Sort of, I became attuned quite suddenly and all at once, you see.”
She paused to reach up high for clean goblets. Her barbaric armor stretched with a peal of leather on leather, again I noticed her femininity. She was quite Human despite the dimensional path we tread on.
“The charm was a gift. The charm gave me Arcane ascendancy. Now I follow the same path as Morbannon. That of a Steel Wizard – disciple.”
Our second meal together consisted of a simple stew, which she threw together as she explained.
“For me the Arcane is inside, mental and physical simultaneously. It seems so natural now that I simply react as is called for. At first, I was very sensitive to its presence. I overcame that feeling during a short stay with the Lalgoræ.” Cohiri’s words piqued my curiosity, my knowledge of what she spoke about at the time was limited, but a description is called for, as the coincidence of such detail requires reasonable appellation.
The Peradran word for Lalgoræ did not describe them as such was their visage. They were simply Lalgoræ in my eyes. There was a portrait in the foyer of a female Lalgorè. Truely they had no racial title though many distinct references were made to their ancestral lineage of Eschelea origin. They resemble Humans save for a few slight differences; generally they were attractive, possessed a gray pigmentation instead of pinkish-tan, aquiline facial features and physique. What really separated them from Humans was their life span. A single, average lifetime for a Lalgorè lasted nearly one thousand years. The Eschelea, who were regarded as misanthropic demi-gods, were veritably immortal. The Eschelea lived in the very mountain range as Morbannon's Keep. Only deep in the rock, where Humans and Lalgoræ could not survive naturally.
Cohiri continued, “My Arcane ability is massive, to be bold enough to say myself. I lack experience. The Arcane responds to logic and order although its form is indeterminable if unguided by a Wizard or sorcerer. To be of Steel, is to be all forms of the Arcane. There are many. Some master only one in their life. I must master all I can. If I ignore my destiny, I will surely perish at the hands of another. There is no mercy in my realm, Morbannon simply needs me alive. And he has promised to return my favor of willingly relinquishing my charm for his Ritual.” The stew was hot by then. She scooped out a bowlfull for each of us. This time we shared a red wine that tasted smooth and heavily alcoholic, it was served at room temperature.
“Is magic something I could learn to control?” She stopped serving when I asked.
“Probably not. There are few who have the innate ability to augment the Arcane. You, I'm sure, do not.” She resumed serving the stew.
“How do you know?” I questioned her apparent detachment to that possibility.
She responded with a level tone. “If you did learn magic, it would be simple. Mere parlor tricks, easily humbugged by a true Cabalist. Besides you are not of this dimension, that makes it even more unlikely.” There was a point to what she said. Never has magic existed on Earth like it does on Peradra. My native spirit was still bound to that reality.
I resigned myself to silence and ate the stew. My appetite was satisfied after a single serving. Cohiri, on the other hand, finished two servings and three goblets of the potent wine. It didn't seem to effect her. After one pint I was numb and drank no more. There was probably a mean hangover in that wine. Also, I didn't know how long it would be until my presence was required. Or if I needed to be coherent at all. I chose moderation in place of leisure.
When we both had finished we left the kitchen as it was, like before. We were apparently alone, the three of us but the mess seemed to clean itself. I analyzed the possibility of Arcane influence out loud.
“Who cleans all that?” I addressed the air in front of me. “Servants, who remain out of sight?” She stopped at the foot of the massive staircase and answered for me.
“Morbannon enchanted the entire Keep, room by room, most likely. The food is preserved indefinitely and the dishes simply return to their places automatically, clean and neat. Dust is banished by similar magic. That is how your garments retained their cleanliness unattended.”
“Then why didn't I feel the presence in the room, like in the kitchen and the library?”
“The Arcane influence is masked for comfort in all the sleeping quarters. The potent energy commonly interferes with one's sleep, it effects one's dreams. A small side effect of such luxuries, subdued by further exploitation of the Arcane.” She stopped then and as an afterthought she added, “There are other enchantments here in the Keep but they are masked due to the meticulous nature of the magics. I believe them to be alarms and such. There is a corner of Morbannon's mind that always supervises all of the spells. I avoid any Arcane probing myself, after all, I am a guest here. I am constantly tempted to divine the composition of the enchantments. They are a source of information like nowhere else. My future liege, Cirrez, a master of Psychomancy; the art of mental sorcery, does not practice such endeavors. To learn them solo will be difficult to say the least.”
I thought I was asking a simple question, Cohiri's explanation was overeager. She was still feeling guilty for putting my life at stake.
We stood facing each other in the foyer. The beautiful portraits surrounded us with mystery. What was the importance of the figures depicted. The art was very realistic. I was drawn to the portrait of Morbannon, its mystique shadowed my interest. There was no mask over the Arcane presence in that painting, it drew me in. The scene became real and for an instant it lived in my mind. I paid no attention to Cohiri as I studied the portrait. I focused deeper into the scene. The impression of a legend unfolded before me. The importance of the portrait was based upon his defiance of his former master. Painted by a Lalgorè, the scene would forever characterize his sacrifice for their good will.
“Impressive, huh?” Cohiri's remark brought me out of my preoccupation. “I did the same thing when I studied it long enough.” Then she changed the subject. “I'm sorry you can't read, we could spend our time in the library. But you would be bored, no?”
“I would prefer to avoid the library for now.” I folded my hands in front of myself in resignation. She nodded in compliance. “Maybe we could go outside. I would like to see the Peradran sky, the landscape.” She brightened at the suggestion.
“Follow me.” She started up the stairs, striding two at a time. I did the same to keep up.
She led me to another set of stairs leading up. “This balcony has the best view of the valley!” Her voice was exited. “I've never been to the mountains before. I grew up in flatlands, surrounded by forests and some small hills. I've seen the plateaus west of the Scalla Forest, they're nothing like this.” The stairs continued up and up, cutting back on themselves several times.
At the top was a iron bound door, like the one in the Ritual Chamber. She lifted a bolt and pushed with all her weight. The door swung open silently. Before me was an open sky of the deepest blue. Clouds billowed at the mountain tops which framed the scene high above. Below a rocky valley maybe ten kilometres deep and five kilometers wide, stretched out from under the Keep. Massive cliffs rose up into the sky at the edges. Behind the Keep were more impassable ridges. Nestled on a cliff's edge, the Keep was easily defensible against any invading army. There seemed to be no ground level pass into the valley, only rough gorges coursed their way through the far ridge, barely in sight. Morbannon chose this location for a reason; seclusion.
“How did you get here?” I asked. The forbidding terrain was beautiful yet intimidating.
“Morbannon flew us here. It took only two days!” I could see why she wanted to fly. Such an ability where there was no technology beyond horse drawn wagons would enhance one's travel possibilities intensely.
I drew in the open air, it was pure and fragrant. Cohiri moved to the edge of the balcony and leaned over the escarpment. I felt free. Free from the Arcane presence that dominated the interior of the Keep. The presence that held me close to the Void. I left it behind. The slightly orange sun was nearing the far peaks. My first day in Peradra was nearly over.
Soon the sky went black, the sun disappeared quickly behind the Great Ridge. Unlike my native dimension, here the sky was nearly starless. Dotted randomly about the sky were a mere handful of extremely bright stars. The distant orbs clearly were not all white, as stars usually seem to be. The brightest star was nearly overhead and definitely shone red. Others competed for brilliance twinkling silently above, blue, yellow even green. Seeing such a barren sky made me feel distant, separate from the alien world.
“My sky at home is much different. It is full of stars, more than you could ever see all at once.” I paused for effect. “You don't know what you're missing.” Cohiri looked at the night sky fondly.
