The Realms of Animar (23 page)

Quickly regaining his focus, the Realmlord continued, “Dolias crafted a law for all to live by, something we refer to as the ‘Dolian Decree’. This law forced our people to realize that the survival of others must come before the individual. You wonder why we have no war, no bloodshed or struggles for peace and the reason is quite simply that we willingly sacrifice of ourselves to feed others.”

Perplexed, Guderian stood silent. A movement in the distance pulled his eyes to one of the giant windows to the sea where an enormous large grey tentacled beast with numerous arms and a thick barrel-shaped torso swam by. He took a deep breath and then turned his attention back to the throne.

Noting Guderian’s distraction, the Realmlord turned and spotted the creature passing by. He then continued, “A giant octopus - remarkable specimens indeed.”

“I apologize, this is all quite overwhelming,” Guderian replied. “You were saying something about sacrifice? How does this work?” He knew the answers to his questions could be disturbing and although he had intended to say as little as possible a nagging curiosity begged for answers.

Guderian was startled when Tursia abruptly grabbed his arm and whispered something he could not decipher. By the look on her face, she was agitated by his words.

The Realmlord waved her off. “It’s fine, he can ask.” He then returned his attention to Guderian and said, “The laws that we live by have kept us at peace for hundreds of years now. You see, the main problem with the underworld is that we lack edible plant-life, and what we do have is more suitable for attire and bedding. I can promise you it lacks in taste.” Arodon paused while a wave of laughter began then quieted. He then continued, “Because of this we rely on each other for food. Barbaric as that is to your kind, to us it is simply a requirement for survival. The Dolian Decree, among other things, designated…certain members of our population to give themselves to the others willingly. They are the food that maintains our world and in the end we are all part of this circle of life.”

Noting the confusion on Guderian’s face, the Realmlord turned an icy stare toward Tursia, “Watcher, perhaps you can explain to your new…
friend
…the various groups that sacrifice.”

Guderian noted the humility as it appeared on the blue-skinned woman standing next to him. Although they were far different he could tell she was uncomfortable. Perhaps she was being punished for having spoken to him on the shore.

“As you wish my Lord,” the woman replied, shifting her eyes to her toeless feet and then into the crowd while she grasped for words. Although likely thousands were present in the massive area an absolute silence had encased them all.

Tursia took a breath and then said, “What the Realmlord refers to is that if a member of our society falls into one of several categories they willingly give their life to feed the others. In this way even in death we sustain life to the others and as such we are forever grateful to those who passed before us. No species are spared from this sacrifice nor are children…or outsiders.”

Her last word struck Guderian like a lightning bolt fired down from the sky. He grew numb.

Tursia continued, “To this end, when any member of our society attains the age of forty years they give their life to the others. This group makes up the largest portion of our diet and to them we owe our survival. There are however others, mainly those born afflicted or that become afflicted with an incurable malady, whether it be sickness, disfigurement or other abnormal condition, they too give of their life. For those born with a, complication, the sacrifice is made on the second anniversary of birth.”

Guderian’s jaw dropped. He was appalled by the notion of sacrificing children and without thought he mumbled, “Children? Two?”

Tursia jabbed his arm but it was too late.

Arodon suddenly became animated and leaned forward in the throne. His voice boomed across the room, “How dare you judge us while your kind struggles to survive the brutality of the land!”

Guderian stammered. “No, no…it’s just…children?”

Arodon’s face was ablaze with anger. “I tell you how uncaring we are,” he roared. “What you don’t know…what you don’t realize…is that when the time comes for one to give their life, another can elect to take the place of the chosen. Anyone can do this for another, except for the Realmlord of course and you can be sure I would have done so had they allowed me!”

His scowl lessened as he looked around the room at the shocked faces staring back at him. He collected his thoughts and then explained, “My daughter Land Dweller, my sweet daughter Lynna was born blind, completely and utterly blind. Thus, by our laws, she was to give her life on her second birthday, which just so happens was a few days ago. You see, even I am not spared from our laws.”

Arodon closed his eyes briefly then continued, “This was something we knew when she was born but you see my beloved wife, my deepest love, she would not let her die. She took her place and now my daughter lives because of her sacrifice and I appear before you today next to an empty throne. You see the consequences of our peace? The extent we go to for our survival? Are we so heartless now land dweller?”

It was then that Guderian spotted a hint of dampness appear in the Realmlord’s eyes. Concealed by anger, the sadness that flowed through his veins was now obvious. Although he had no children of his own, Guderian could not imagine the loss of Joli or the pain this man must have endured while his wife’s corpse was feasted upon by the others. In that moment when he reflected, Guderian longed to see his wife again, to hold her and say how he loved her and that he was at last ready to have children. It was time to put aside his own self pity and the loss of his sister and enjoy the life he had.

“Realmlord, about his request?” Tursia asked softly in an attempt to end the awkward confrontation.

Arodon’s stare remained fixed on Guderian a moment longer before he leaned back in his seat. He scanned the faces of the crowd as if searching for an answer and then said, “Ah yes, an interesting predicament indeed. Unfortunately, buried within our code is a strict understanding that we will not interfere with,” his eyes then darted to Tursia, “or make contact with, those of the other realms. Apparently, some of us forget this from time to time.”

Guderian tried to help. “That is my fault I—”

“Let me finish!” Arodon boomed. “If it is true that this…Realmlord…of the carnivores is attacking or enslaving the peaceful members of your kind, then this is certainly not something we would condone. However, I ask why should we be involved? This is not our fight. If anything, we are more like your enemies than yourselves.”

“But what about the struggles you have gone through, the efforts you have made to find peace?” Guderian asked. “You have found a better way than to kill innocents, or at least those unwilling. This evil monster is wiping out all of my kind and when they are done their bloodlust will surely spill into your waters. They will hunt your kind here and your world will certainly be his next conquest.”

A low roar erupted from the crowd.

“Nonsense!” Arodon yelled. “We live nearly a hundred feet from the surface and they cannot match our skill in the water. We may no longer fight amongst ourselves, but we train regularly. Let them come, we will destroy them!”

This was the audience he had come for and Guderian was not going to back down easily. “I have no doubts about your abilities but this man is ruthless. He
will
bring his war to your waters and thrust your peaceful lives into turmoil. Help us or not if we fall you will be next.”

“Fine!” Arodon yelled. “Let them come!”

Guderian shook his head. “Serves me right for seeking the help of murderers. Help us or not, your time will come.”

“Murderers?” Arodon questioned. “Did you not understand a word of what I said?”

“I speak of a group of my people that were taken from the shore nearly three years ago now. My sister was among them – another reason why I chose to come before you today. I take it something they did violated one of your precious rules as well?”

Arodon froze, surprisingly captivated by what Guderian had said. His eyes darted to a tall, skinny man with deep blue skin and a long robe made of seaweed that was standing nearby. The man quickly leapt up the steps and whispered into Arodon’s ear.

Arodon nodded and then yelled out at the boisterous crowd. “Silence!”

Of the possibilities that spun through his mind, Guderian never would have expected what happened next.

“We will help,” Arodon said, sending a wave of shock through the audience.

“Thank you,” Guderian said, amazed but also relieved. The fate of his sister had not been learned. He wondered how his question had triggered such a response.

“I don’t mean to sound unappreciative but I have to ask what became of the group I spoke of. Are they…?”

“They’re dead,” Arodon said grimly. “I’m truly sorry, more than you can ever know. We did not know their intent when they arrived on our shores so we brought them here, where they perished.”

Guderian’s stomach clenched and he felt sick having finally learned the fate of his long lost sister.

Arodon continued, “I fell in love with Ellonah and fought to spare her life. In time she grew to love me. She chose to stay here, you must believe that I would have set her free but she loved me. Me of all people!”

Guderian looked up at the Realmlord with shock upon his face. “You? And my sister?”

Arodon nodded.

Guderian’s mind was spinning with what he had learned. “Wait! A daughter, you said you had a daughter! Please, I must see her.”

“Not yet land dweller,” Arodon said firmly. “She is not ready. Perhaps if you survive the war but I will need something else from you first.” Arodon pointed to the tunnel from which Guderian had entered the chamber. “Go now,” he commanded. “Tell Tursia what you need. She will make the arrangements. We will discuss my demands before you leave.”

Chapter 25

G
uided by a howling wind, endless waves of snowflakes plummeted from the sky and coated the five wary travelers in a chilling embrace. Although only eight days had passed since their journey had begun, the harsh climate had beaten down upon them with unrelenting force as if nature herself was settling an unresolved score.

The group was surrounded on all sides by the Bluemist Mountains, a massive, sprawling series of peaks and valleys that stretched to the sky where they eventually vanished into grey puffy clouds that hid their pinnacles from view. The land here was jagged, marked by blue-grey rock mixed with green snow-covered pine trees hardened to the winter and serving as the only shelter from the deadly cold. Breathtaking to some, the imbued rock sparkled magically when struck by the rare beam of sunlight, tempting travelers to linger a bit too long while the wintry elements sought to claim more victims.

A thick layer of white powder blanketed the landscape around them, washing out detail from the ground on which they walked, each step sinking deeper into the cold foreign depths and each step taking them that much farther from home. Turning back was not an option, but those less motivated most surely would have conceded long ago.

Due to frequent landslides the only clear passage was found at higher elevations that of course came with a price for those who dared risk it. The mountains had indeed served a purpose for those who lived in Avryndale because the area had remained relatively calm until the unrelenting carnivores had uncovered their location.

Mordigal glanced back at the three brothers who were struggling through the terrain behind. Not the tallest of men, the snow rose almost to their knees, making each step somewhat of a challenge. Although they lacked in strength and experience, the brothers were certainly determined and brave, even if lacking in sense. He had never met any of their kind before since kangaroos were quite rare, especially in the regions that he had traveled. As odd as they were, the three were certainly a fond representation of the species and he hoped, if he survived, to cross paths with more of their kind in the future.

As they had throughout their journey together, the practically identical brothers supported one another as they progressed. Mordigal grinned at their efforts when two – he gave up on trying to tell them apart days ago – struggled to support a third from either side, their arms clasped around his shoulders as they moved in unison.

Mordigal noted the grimace on the face of the middle brother. Over a strong wind he called to them, “Is he alright?” When he spoke his words were transformed into a smoky plume of breath that slowly mingled with the cold air and vanished in front of his eyes.

The brothers looked at one another as if deciding who would respond. Finally the one on the left yelled back, “Just lovely! Numb toes is all.”

The brother on the right added, “Clotch has enormous feet. You should see them!”

Clotch, apparently the middle brother, hastily separated from the others and gritted his teeth as he pulled ahead on his own, large feet and all, apparently steadfast on showing his independence.

Mordigal smiled then turned back to his front where Caballus had stopped on an elevated tree-lined ridge a short distance ahead, his wool overcoat flapping in the wind as he surveyed the land before them. Always alert for trouble, the tall giant of a man was leaning on a thick walking staff while he peered into the white blanketed trees that lined the natural path on which they traveled. Caution was critical. They were passing through a valley that put them at a disadvantage in terms of visibility.