Elijah: The Shattered Nation. - 2. Chapter 2: The Messenger

Chapter 2: The Messenger

"This is an outrage!" Juliana stood at the table, her face flushed. The crowds had long left the Court Grove. The High Table was occupied in full and below, a small crowd of lords and ladies listened intently. "First, some vagrant speaking riddles interrupts our sacred ceremony, then we learn that a body is taken from the Garden? What more! What more, I ask you Prophet!" Her voice echoed into the dimness of the Court Grove. The torches had been removed, leaving only scarce light that cast wary shadows across the ivy walls.

"Sister, please..." Braden nodded and stood. A gentle hand rested upon his sister's shoulder, nudging her down into her seat. For too long, Braden had been exhausted. He needed a place to think, to contemplate. His facade as a strong leader was breaking and he was certain some sensed it, especially Juliana. "I will attend to the man who interrupted our First Day myself, later, within my study. We must focus our attention to the event that occurred at the Garden earlier this morning. One of our own, the body has been taken."

Horrified gasps filled the coliseum. Some people began to murmur, others to shout.

"Is this some form of...terrorism within our own country?"

"Who could have done such at thing?" Another shouted.

"Blasphemy!"

"Silence...silence!" Braden held up his hand. "We have an idea of who it might be. I wish that you all would remain calm as I release this information and that it does not leave the Grove. I will issue a command that any who speaks beyond these walls about this...this incident will find themselves in Jarvaxia with treason marked upon their heads."

All eyes were on Braden. "Am I clear?"

Nods and murmurs of 'yes' were heard.

"Good. We believe it is the Black Dawn." One of the ladies below the High Table platform shrieked, "Are they attacking us?"

"Where did they take the body?" someone shouted.

"I arrived on scene earlier this morning; the grave was dug up. The Guardians were not harmed, nor were any of the other graves disturbed. Perhaps it is some trick, perhaps there is another revolutionary attempting to inject the kingdom with doubt..." Braden knew his history well. Just after the reign of the False King, Lucas Extollere, a young man named Gideon Cartwright attempted to usurp the throne from the Extolleres. His revolution was immediately shot down, however it left lingering aftershocks within the kingdom.

"You are certain it is the Black Dawn? I thought we were rid of them after the takeover of the Seat?" Juliana asked.

Sydney stepped forward, Braden sat down, exhausted, and gestured for the paladin to speak.

"We believe the Black Dawn still functions silently. We protect our borders, the lands within, as much as we can, however they are often able to trump us with their magic. The last report of any sort of Black Dawn activity was to the north, near Triptych, several months after David had been removed from the throne. After that, nothing. We believe they are in hiding." The High Captain nodded firmly.

"What of the Dead Prophets?" Someone asked.

"Yes, what of the False Prophets, the followers of Fiore?" Heather Melrue asked. Her voice seemed worried. "Are they not sealed away?"

"So far as we know, yes. The only follower of Fiore that we have seen has been Melvesia. However, we have seen him only in the form of magical constructs. Their sealed locations are unknown to us and only to those who were directly under the Great Prophet."

"What about Alexstranz?" Helga, the Duchess of Portalis spoke up. "I bet old Elijah himself put some of them nasties there, eh?"

"I believe the project to find the location of Alexstranz was deemed closed years ago," the Lord Reagent spoke. "We know that Lucas Extollere assembled a team to search for the City of the Prophet, for weapons to defeat Venz, but, found nothing..."

"My Lord, if I may speak..." Shelt sat up. The whole room squirmed. They had forgotten that their neighbor’s ambassador was present.

"Of course." Braden motioned for him to continue.

"We have sent many expeditions, far to the north, beyond the ice sheets...we believe there is something there. However, the cold is quite hard to bear. I assume this information is useful."

"If this is confirmed, then it must be Alexstranz!" someone yelled from below.

"We are merely assuming, however that is beyond the point, even if the Dead Prophets were indeed sealed within Alexstranz, to put together a team to go search for it, let alone excavate an ancient city would cost..." Juliana was interrupted by her own brother.

"Let us put the talk of ancient cities, false prophets and magic aside... I ask that you all remain calm, express to your various courts and assemblies within your provinces that we are taking precautions to retrieve the body, and assume control. I will have Avihs make an official press release within the week. Until then, this incident will be worked under secrecy by the Paladins and by them alone. You may go." No one said a word. People slowly left the Court Grove.

"Charlie, stay," Braden demanded. The boy did not seem to object that Braden treated him as a servant, a dog, even. Braden looked at the boy, and his mind flashed back to Jeremy; Braden’s breathing deepened. Juliana lingered, but said nothing. She glided from the Court Grove leaving Sydney, Charlie and her brother to their own thoughts.

"Sydney, assemble the paladins and figure out where that body went. You know where to find me." The High Captain saluted and left.

"Ugh..." Braden sank into his chair, "This is too much."

"Why don't you quit?"

Braden glanced at Charlie, he wanted to roll his eyes, but he feigned. "I can't. Simply that."

"Another heir is out there, right?"

"Perhaps, if the Court approved and a vote were made across the kingdom, I could be crowned, but it requires so much attention. It would break centuries of tradition and toil. Only more problems to assume."

"You would die young if you were king, my nephew." The Queen Sheridan glided up the stairs. Her beauty had faded over the five years since she ruled with her husband, Titian, but power still radiated from the woman. Charlie stood.

"Aunt, I would like to think my fortitude is far greater."

"To be king is a burden, Braden, you know this. Another will come along to take the Crown. The doors of the throne room will open then. Until that time, attend to this illness that has gripped us. Stealing bodies? What has become of us?" She sat gracefully at the table.

"Were you present for First Day?"

"Of course, your uncle would be proud." She smiled her approval toward the Lord Regent. "I can only stay briefly, I grow tired, and the days seem so long now."

"Sleep well, my Queen." Braden stood, inclining his head toward his aunt. The Queen left the Court Grove. Her presence in the Seat had been weaker, she stayed to her room, and some said she was failing in health. Braden believed she was still mourning the passing of her husband, even now.

"Charlie, come, we need to see to that crazy man."

"Yes, milord." Charlie followed Braden out of the Court Grove, through the marble foyer of the Seat to the private elevators that lead up to the royal quarters. The guards at the elevator stood erect as Braden passed and the elevator doors slid open. Soon, Braden and Charlie were soaring up through the glass Seat. Night had fallen upon Elijah; Cathedral glittered like a diamond. Hazy clouds obscured the moon that pleaded to shed its light upon the Great Prophet’s kingdom.

The elevator doors opened to a long corridor hung with tapestries depicting scenes of centuries past. Torches cast their fleeting light across the faces of the Royal Guards. Avihs waited patiently.

"Milord. Archivist." She bowed in turn to both young men. "The man is awaiting you in your study. He continues to murmur to himself, saying your name over and over." Avihs motioned for them to follow. Silence encased the corridor as they made their way to the end. Two paladins garbed in golden mail stood before the door to the Lord Regent's study. Avihs nodded them aside, and gestured for Braden and Charlie to enter.

The King's Study was at the top-most level of the Seat. The throne room was four floors below. At the ground level was the Court Grove, each in perfect symmetry with the other. It was said that Elijah could channel His energies through each of the locations if they were directly near one another.

Braden had left the King's Study unchanged. A large portrait of the family hung over a large fireplace flanked by images of rampant lions. A handsome oak desk stood before a large window that overlooked Cathedral. Shelves of books, scrolls and various parchments of ages past collected dust. The man sat in one of the leather chairs near the fire, which was slowly flickering to its end. Avihs stood by the door. Braden nodded for Charlie to sit in the chair at the desk.

The Lord Regent then sat across from the man. Upon seeing Braden, the man jumped, startled.

"Y-you!"

"What is your name?"

"Name?" He rasped, "I forget. I'm forgetting everything now. I only remember your name and what you must do."

"What must I do?" Braden asked. "Where did you come from?"

"Gildet...Gildet.... I told you!" The man stared into the fire, trying to suck a bit of warmth from it till he plunged into darkness. "Gildet ... across the sea... the letter … he sent you a letter from across death...open it..."

The letter. Braden shot up from his seat and made for the desk. Rummaging through a drawer, he produced a faded envelope. It had been resting there for five years.

"Who sent it?"

"He did."

"Who?" Braden slammed his fist on the table. "Who damn it! Tell me now!"

"I don't...know!" The man was shivering now. "It is so cold." Braden strode from the desk, the envelope between his fingers. Nearing the fire, he let the envelope catch on the corner. "No! Stop! No you mustn't!" The man pleaded, there was fear in his eyes, they were saucers. "Noooo..." the man moaned as the flame crept further up the faded parchment. Braden threw it violently into the fire, it began to smolder.

"You dared to interrupt a sacred tradition of my country, you speak riddles... I should have you shot!" Braden roared. Charlie gripped the armrests of his chair; Avihs reached for the holster below her skirts. The envelope burst into flame.

"No!" The man yelled, his mouth opened and an ear-splitting scream echoed throughout the study. The man flew from his seat and leapt at Braden. Cold hands, a vice, curled around Braden's neck. The Lord Regent stumbled backwards. Charlie yelled and sought the courage to defend Braden; Aiden drew her sidearm.

"Remove yourself from him or I shall shoot!" she shouted. "Paladins! Attend us!" The door burst open. Golden figures, like fleece slid past Avihs, swords raised.

The grip on Braden's neck was growing tighter, he gasped for breath. The eyes of the messenger were wild with madness. He salivated. He was something...else. Deranged. "Listen... listen ... listen to me..." the man demanded. Braden could feel his head getting light. There was shouting around him, a paladin was raising his blade. Everything moved in slow motion. He saw Jeremy for a moment, in that gray cathedral, waiting...waiting... "Listen... go... to Gildet...he summons you.... " Braden struggled, "Go... then you may have your treasure....the one you covet... the most..." The man's eyes stopped shaking, the grip loosened. Blood trickled from his mouth. Through the blur, Braden saw a paladin standing over the man. A crimson blade was slowly pulled from his back.

Then darkness.

=========

A soft breeze.

Birds chirped; however, they seemed to be at a great distance. The breeze was soothing, it held an ounce of winter, and it tickled the skin. Braden stood amidst swaying fields of golden grain. They were endless, stretching as far as the eye could see. He turned to face the setting sun that cast lines of liquid gold across the fields. Something briefly blotted out the sun; a large oak tree. He squinted, something was below the tree, at the base.

He walked through the grain towards the tree. The grain parted like water as if it acknowledged his purpose in approaching the tree. Without warning, he felt a hand grip his shoulder. Braden turned, startled.

"Uncle?"

"Braden, my boy..." Titian stood before him, garbed in the simple clothing of a farmer. He carried a sack over his shoulder. He was younger than Braden remembered him.

"How can this be?"

"Anything can be, if you will it so." He smiled at Braden, and warmth filled the Lord Regent's heart.

"Am I dead?"

Titian laughed, a warm laugh that echoed, encompassing the entire realm in which they found themselves. "No, my boy, no, your time is yet to come for such a thing."

"Why am I here?" Braden turned and looked around. "It seems so familiar, yet so foreign."

"This is the Haven of the Prophet. A beautiful place. He is yonder..." Titian pointed toward the tree. The sun glowed, silhouetting the tree. Braden could see someone sitting below the tree.

"I must speak to Him!" Braden tried to move toward the tree, but Titian firmly held him with a hand upon his shoulder.

"No, do not disturb Him. You seem troubled?" Braden turned, his eyes downcast for a moment.

"Much has happened, I do not know where to begin. A stranger came, speaking of strange lands. He is mad... in your study, they killed him... he told me to go to this...Gildet..."

Titian listened. His expression, full of serenity did not falter. "Gildet?" There was a long pause. "The Prophet is just and giving but there are some things even..." He paused a moment, as if to find the right words. "There are some things that frighten even Him."

"This Gildet frightens the Prophet?"

"No," Titian smiled. "But I must go. There is much I must attend to. We are having a feast! I am proud of you, nephew. The Prophet smiles on you as well." Then he was gone, fading like mist. Braden stared into the golden distance.

"What must I do?" Braden asked.

The wind answered: a torrent of oak leaves blew across the ground. Something burst from the flurry, an envelope. Braden snatched it from the air and opened quickly. It was a large piece of parchment, however in the center was a large hole. A perfect circle.

"What is that you have there?" A voice asked. A tall man reached around Braden to snatch up the piece of paper. The man was lanky, wispy, scholarly.

"Who are you?"

The man examined the parchment, putting it up to the sky, peering through the hole. He even matched it up to Braden's face and peered through with curious blue eyes.

"Me? Oh...my, forgive me... they called me Kaltras."

"One of the disciples of Elijah?"

"I suppose so... yes, it is a rather heavy title to carry..." Kaltras was more interested in the piece of paper than in Braden's questions. "I merely took care of cataloging the existence of the Prophet for some time...er..." the man peered at Braden. "Who are you again?"

"Braden Extollere."

"Oh!" The man adjusted glasses that Braden had not noticed before. "Extollere, a great family, strong; courageous. The Chosen Family, as they say, or did say I suppose..." Kaltras began to examine the piece of paper again.

"You are Kaltras Mevicanti, a brilliant scholar, I have read your essay on water fields... we use them to today to grow crops..." Braden said.

"Yes, that is I. That took me forever to write you know.... ages...centuries. Oh I don't know... you know... this... this..." he pointed to the paper, "This is mine." Kaltras nodded.

"It is?"

"Yes, I forget what I called it but its mine. Magical, actually."

"Magic?"

"Yes, that darling woman, Synthril, she taught me a thing or two you know. I made this to see what was never there, or what could be there...yes! Ha... what a find, where did you find this? Here perhaps...among the grain? I'd fret not, such a powerful thing...."

"It was in a letter, given to me. Five years ago." Braden said.

"A letter? Hmm, someone must have found this. But where... Oh, I forget." He examined it further.

"What do you know of Gildet?"

There was no response, suddenly Kaltras rounded upon Braden. "Gildet? My boy... that was treason, the Prophet disliked even to speak of it..."

"What is it?"

"A place, I suppose, a landmass, a location, a locale of peoples."

"Where?" Braden asked, he felt like it was only proper to beg.

"Across the sea...through the mist, this would help!" Kaltras chuckled holding up the piece of paper with the hole through the center. "But Gildet...hmmm... Gildet... it is a legend of sorts you know... I wrote of it in my book, The Atlas of the Crown. There wasn't a crown then...but..." He paused, handing the paper to Braden. The Lord Regent took it as if it were a piece of fine glass. "I figured it would sound elegant...yes, there, I wrote of it, Gildet. The Shattered Nation, legend though, well maybe not..." Kaltras trailed off. "The Prophet just did not like to speak of it....unfinished business... a mistake He made. As infallible as he is, he makes mistakes you know... oh look at the time..."

"Where can I find it?"

"Where can you find what, boy?" Kaltras asked.

"The book?" Braden looked puzzled.

"Oh, of course..hmm.... a library! If I recall, as things progressed, my Atlas was considered... " he tapped his chin, "Hmm... bad material for the eyes... to many ideas... The Archival, I am sure. I built the Archival!" He laughed to himself. "I am becoming so forgetful, my... oh… that..." A finger pointed to the piece of paper, "That is called the Ever Lens. Yes, an apt name. To see what can be, or what might never be..." Then he was gone.

Braden folded the Ever Lens carefully and stowed it in his pocket. Then everything rushed, like a punch to his stomach.

"Milord!" Shouting, yelling. Cold hands upon his cheeks. "Milord!" He was in the Study. He gasped, leaning up. Avihs jumped back. Charlie stood behind one of the Paladins, looking frightened. Several Royal Guards were also present, as was Juliana.

"Brother..." She rushed to his side. "Are you all right? What happened?"

"Where is that man?"

"Dead, milord, they took the body away." Avihs smoothed out her skirts and nodded.

"Charlie, we must go to Archival."

"Oh... now?" The Worthington boy raised an eyebrow.

"Yes, now." Braden stood, nudging his sister away, blood rushed to his head, "Yes. Come." He reached into his pocket, he felt the folded Ever Lens.

"Brother... what is wrong?"

"Nothing, Juliana. Putting pieces of the puzzle together." Braden grabbed Charlie by the arm and dragged him from the Study. Invigorated with the hope of finding answers, the two made for the elevator. Juliana and Avihs watched from the door, confusion upon their faces. Had Braden gone mad? Juliana spoke softly to Avihs and followed Braden, she kept to the shadows however, determined to find answers herself.