Silver Cathedral Saga (18 page)
“Ematay,”
shouted Christian and Eleanor, hoping to get his attention, even
though he was already looking at them with his eyes so wide it
seemed as if he was stopping them from blinking.
The
Star-caster reined the reins back to stop the swan in mid-air.
“What on Astora are you doing here?”
“We’re
looking for you,” said Eleanor, worried, and with a deep dread
emoting from her eyes. “You’re in trouble. We have to speak alone.
It’s important.”
The other
two swans were still going ahead, and Ematay didn’t seem bothered
by it; yet they stopped about a mile away from them, and Ematay,
Eleanor and Christian noticed when they did.
“We are
stopping at Madame Mansion soon,” said the Star-caster seeing the
other Spell-casters wait for him. “We will continue this talk in
private then.”
Eleanor and
Christian’s swan was still facing the opposite direction to
Ematay’s, suspended in the air flapping hard to keep in flight,
much like the Star-caster’s at the moment too. They were close
enough to hear themselves if they shouted, and that’s how they
spoke to one another.
“Turn
around and we will get to our next resting ground,” said Ematay.
“Do you even know how to ride a War Swan?”
Christian
carried on forward for about thirty feet, until they were well out
of the way of Ematay floating still. The noise of heavy flaps
repeated almost every second, with the sound of wind pushing
against them. A little draft of the wings hit Ematay’s ride a few
times, but he knew how to come back to balance himself, unlike the
children from Hiva Aura.
A tight tug
from Christian led the swan to turn the creature around fast; to a
one hundred and eighty degree angle, now facing the same direction
of the other four swans up ahead.
Ematay
waited till they got near, nodded his head, then made his transport
fly off at a steady pace. He made sure to go slower than the
children, behind them.
“Of all the
people to see in the air I am glad it was you,” said Eleanor.
“I feared
the worse for a time,” Christian butted in.
“Hey,” said
Eleanor.
“Sorry. We
feared the worse,” responded Christian, correcting himself, knowing
what his friend was getting at. He looked at the female on the back
of Ematay’s Swan. “That another Spell-caster with you?
”
“Well there
is no need to worry anymore. We are a step further to finding the
Stone Swan now. We have located it in the Heart of the Mountain.
And no, strangely this is not a Spell-caster. This is a Millennium
Child. We picked up two in Swansie. They seem to be on the right
cause.” The female on the back smiled.
The two
Hiva Aura children replied with a polite and shy “hello
”
; both Eleanor and Christian didn’t see that it was
necessary to ask questions here and now about these Millennium
Children.
“The Heart
of the Mountain,” said Eleanor, recognising it immediately.
“What is
it?” asked Christian.
“Do you
want to tell him or me?” said Ematay to Eleanor. “I will let you
tell him.” They flew close enough to each other to hear, at least
better than before. They were all shouting, but it became
normalised as they carried on doing it. The other three swans were
still a little way ahead though, but moved again when they noticed
their comrades came towards them.
“The Heart
of the Mountain is one of the legends of Astora. It is said to keep
things right, things in place. Though it is not very specific with
what those things are.”
“I’ve just
recently found out that the ‘Heart of the Mountain’ is a chamber
that lies beneath the Mistless Mountain. Where we once went to get
to the Silver Cathedral. Though we’ve just discovered what lies
within it is called the Apostle Stone. Much like what we picked up
getting to your new home, searching our spirits to see if we were
worthy to get to its location before we were transported there.
Only within this gem lies the magick of the first Spell-caster, and
it is said that this magick brings peace to our land.”
“Wow,” said
Eleanor. “That part was not in the legends book my mother used to
read to me at night.”
“I would be
worried if it was,” replied Ematay, laughing a little.
The
children’s and Ematay’s swan caught up with the other
Spell-casters.
Ematay
yelled through the air again. The wind took his sound almost
completely because they were going so fast.
“I’ll
introduce you to everyone at the mansion,” said the Star-caster. We
haven’t got long till we reach there now. About another hour.”
“Where is
this Madame Mansion you speak of?” asked Eleanor surprised she did
not know about it.
“It is a
hidden sanctuary us Spell-casters use to resupply and gain much
needed rest. It lies below the canal of the Firefin.”
“We were
told it was the Canary Canal,” said Christian, “from our
parents.”
“Well I
assure you that the right name is Firefin Canal. Named after the
Firefin fish that were originally common beneath it hundreds of
years ago. But they are more than likely a rare species these days.
It’s a shame what money or currency does to the world, isn’t
it?”
“I know. We
did see two before we bumped into you though,” said Eleanor. “And
where abouts below the canal?”
“You’ll
just have to see now. Don’t worry, we will get there in good time,”
said the dark skinned Star-caster Ematay.
In
time, figures of Shadows plagued Christian, Eleanor and Ematay,
from them losing their family. A blackness in mind seemed to have
came into reality very quickly, and there was no real reason for it
either, like a lot of things in life.
“Do you see
that?” said Eleanor. There was a blackness beneath them, afar.
It was hard
for any of the others to work out what it was. All except the young
female, the apprentice of Emae; the amateur Spell-caster of fire,
light and the sun. Time seemed to have turned the solar power of
her magick into not such a big deal.
Those long
hours from the sun, even from such few days, made sure of that. She
could always feel what her body was doing, but it just became like
her heightened senses, another part she was starting to grow used
to.
“It must be
them,” said Ematay. “There is no other species that moves in such
numbers.”
“They are
growing nearer Swansie,” said the older Fire-caster. “There isn’t a
lot of time. We can only spare a few hours at the most at the
mansion now. We can’t let them take over the last city.”
“As soon as
we land I’ll starport and warn the king. He will need to know about
the danger his last city is about to endure.”
“The stakes
continue to rise hour by hour, day by day,” said Adea.
They all
knew the stakes were constantly rising, but someone saying it out
loud seemed to out an immediate pressure, as if it just became all
the more real to them.
“Will we be
able to get to the mansion now?” asked Christian.
“We should
be able to,” interrupted the Battle-caster, shouting like the
others had to do so. “I really hope so.”
“It would
be a smart move to make sure they don’t see us. Let’s hope they
havn’t already. You know, Ematay, I really don’t understand; the
Shadows can travel through black holes. Their queen seems to be
able to have that kind of magick on her side. So why doesn’t she
just create a black hole into the city of Swansie?”
“Very
clever observation, Eleanor,” said Ematay. “I thought the same some
days ago. And I believe she wanted to lure everybody into this last
city, and destroy all—in one last strike. I think the queen knew
everyone would flee to Swansie. In fact, I bet she was counting on
it. When she has finished what is left of our cities and their
people—they would soon devour the Silver Cathedral. Only I’m hoping
it doesn’t come to that stage.”
The sound
of the Shadows frightened them, and they all agreed to turn and go
around, out of their way. They all knew, except Christian, that
this would create even more time to get to their purposeful
destination, yet they had no choice.
It seemed
the Shadows did not spot the War Swans flying over. They tried to
use the high clouds to hide most of the journey, getting around the
tireless army. They were grateful these clogs were around at this
time. But even if they had been seen, nobody was sure if they would
be able to get to them. Either way, the entire group was glad they
didn’t get to find out.
The
thunderous noises of feet continued to go on, even as they past the
shadow figures, they could still hear them.
Ematay
quickly looked at his map, making sure to clutch at it tighter than
the Swan he was steering; he knew too much depended on this piece
of parchment now. Everything was on him, his team, Eleanor and
Christian.
The wings
and colour of the War Swans blended in with the clouds to create
the kind of camouflage they needed to get far away from the
marching army. But what awaited them was a whole other story.
The
little bits of sun were brought in once again by the pull of both
his large curtains.
It shone on
his face, making his paleness all the more noticeable. It didn’t
take much of an observer to see he hated the light.
Etch shot
up, sitting on his luxuriously large bed. He tried to block the
light upon his skin, and threw himself down on the bed like he
would do every morning, flinging the covers back over himself.
“I’m not
getting up,” said the Prince. His hair was ruffled and out of
place, not like he would normally be seen around the Silver
Cathedral.
“My lord,
you’re to get up. Your father wants to see you now. And I am not
going upstairs to get shouted at for not getting you to do
something what you could get over with quickly.”
He groaned,
sounding as if he cried for some moments; not feeling the pull of
life take him or wanting to move.
The male
Spell-caster who was on royal duty today turned his head to the
prince’s cupboard when a rattling emerged from inside. He looked
stunned, not sure what to say, flicking his eyes back and forth
between where it came from and the bed.
The prince
answered before the servant even spoke.
“It’s just
my alarm,” he said, peeking his head out of the sheets quickly.
“Then why
is it shut up inside your cupboard?” The Spell-caster went to fetch
it as it continued to go, but not at regular intervals like an
alarm would normally do. Then, it suddenly stopped; him being only
some steps away from the door.
“No,”
shouted the prince, ignoring the question. There was an immense
amount of concern that jumped into his voice, making him sound
sharp and loud. “Please. Just leave it. I like it in there.”
The man
looked to the cupboard once more when the prince exited the bed.
“I’m up, look. Just go tell my father I will be down in some
minutes.”
The man
noticed the paleness on prince Etch’s face and looked concerned
now. “Are you okay my lord?” said the young man on royal duty. “You
look as if all the colour has been drained out of you.”
“I’m fine,
really. Just a little tired still. I’ll just make sure I take a nap
later on. I’ll be fine.”
The man
continued to look at the prince as he got dressed and moved away
from the cupboard. The sound went off again inside, only it was
more vicious, and much, much longer. He still continued to walk
away, but looked back to it before he got near the front door.
“Just go
already,” yelled the prince, “I’ll sort it out,” calming his voice
down to a reasonable level. The man flinched at the screaming aimed
at him as Etch got his shirt on and ran off, closing the large two
wooden silver doors that were already open.
Prince
Etch was nearly ready.
He needed
to put his boots on, but instead of doing so he went to his bed and
sat on it, putting his hands on his head, sighing. It seemed he
looked to the floor, but didn’t pay any attention to the the stone
slabs that made it up, or the great emerald rug that ran through
the half of the room with his bed on. The other half was just
stone, where his clothes and possessions laid; his wardrobe.
He heard
the rattling finally stop inside the wardrobe now. It had gone on
for nearly a minute this time, but didn’t look at the cupboard.
Instead, he got up and went over to it, looking at it as he done
so.
Moving
slowly to the noise, Etch heard the clang of metal rattle against
the stone floor. Inside was quite dark, but he seemed to know where
it was as he picked it up straight away
Etch
grabbed this small looking trinket. It looked much like a handheld
cage. A cage which could fit into an Astorian’s single palm. And
inside was a single, small creature: A grey, bluish creature that
was well known on Astora for all the wrong reasons.
By now,
this small being was yelling in some fast gibberish language he did
not understand. He just responded with shaking his head, following
a large smile—all before he shook the cage above his head.
Vigorously.
There was
sprinkles of dust. Of silver dust that seemed to be ignited by
little rays shooting through his window, making it look mystically
breathtaking beyond any understood words known to humanoids.
He closed
his eyes as the dust glowed when it hit his head. His deep breaths
got lessened the longer he shook the small cage with the creature
inside.
Then, he
opened his eye lids. His eyes looked relaxed, and taking a deep
breath he seemed content—once more.
Ematay’s group of Spell-casters managed to lose sight of the
Shadows. For now.