Good morning

Yesterday's post on a new day dawning, was a little teaser for today's extract from The Daighacaer Book I, The Dawne. 

What I've tried to do throughout the book is to keep each chapter as a self-contained and stand-alone mini story. There have been many times when I simply haven't had the time to read a book in one sitting and I always appreciate quick readings which have defined end-breaks. 

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The Dawne

 Eryen stared in amazement at the tempest which began raging as soon as he lifted his arms.

The sudden onset and the intensity of the tempest would have surprised him at any time but, for it to occur during the morning devotions, was as unexpected as it was unprecedented.

He could not believe what was happening. He should have been standing within an area which radiated tranquil normality. Instead, he was staring out in trepidation at a raging tempest being played out all around him.

Rumbling thunder and urgent streaks of lightning vied with rain and hail to see which could inflict the most damage in the shortest possible time.

Once tall and proud trees were being broken like twigs and, bursting into flame, shot acrid sparks into the air in all directions. Yet other trees lay bent almost horizontal by the force of lurching winds which appeared intent on breaking their backs. Debris swirled around in dank and churning eddies, tossed and whipped in every direction in agitated frenzy.

As he stared in disbelief, Eryen noticed the slightest flicker of movement out of the corner of his eye and instinctively shrank away from it towards the nearest pillar. As he did so, a shard of pulsating black lightning fireball narrowly missed searing his left arm. It ricocheted off the pillar next to which he stood and, with noticeable intent, turned purposefully towards him again.

Eryen’s eyes darted to his right, following the movement of the lightning which was bearing down on him again.

“That is simply not possible,” he thought incredulously. “Lightning is not black and it definitely does not move in slow motion.”

Eryen stood absolutely still to see if this strange form of lightning was simply attracted to his movement.

It was not.

He caught his breath as the black lightning once again seared his clothes and this time burned his skin, missing a direct hit to his chest by a hair’s breadth. If he had not instinctively turned away, that lightning would have struck his chest directly over his heart. The sulphurous odour hung possessively to his charred shirt.

Eryen waited for the pain which, oddly, did not manifest.

He shook his head and, as he did so, he felt as if his head and eyes were out of sync with each other.

That he had been hit by the lightning was evident.

He wondered if what he was experiencing was the normal reaction to such an attack.

“I must not, cannot, let the lightning take control. That is what it is trying to do, I am sure of it, but why and, more importantly, how?”

Strangely, the lightning slowed and hesitated as if to analyse the situation in which it found itself.

Eryen intuitively noticed the lightning’s hesitation and, in turn, as he was about to return to the sanctuary of indoors, he too hesitated.

“No. It is simply my imagination running rampant,” he chided himself. “Black lightning attacking? Lightning hesitating? I do believe that I am losing my mind.”

However, as he gazed at the lightning, impossibly suspended in mid-air, his eyes were instinctively drawn to a point in the centre of the intense frenzy.

“Well! That’s that! It appears that I was not mistaken at all. Some small comfort that I’m not going mad,” he mused, wryly.

Eryen was staring straight into the very depths of two of the darkest eyes he had ever seen.

The eyes were staring right back at him with an intense hatred, thrust directly into his core.

As if to acknowledge that it recognised Eryen; that it knew that its attack had found a mark and, as impossible as it seemed, that it was intent on asserting its supremacy, the lightning ricocheted away and once more purposefully turned to face Eryen. This time in full combat mode.

“That lightning is definitely attacking me!” Eryen murmured to himself. “It’s clearly not simply lightning. It’s something quite sinister and it definitely has malevolent intent.”

Eryen felt his heart begin to race and he realised, with no shadow of doubt, that he was the target in a battle for his life. He quickly scanned the area around him for a shield or weapon. There was none. He was also hoping against hope that someone was out at this early hour but knew that that was a vain hope and, at the same time a blessing.

“Even if someone is out this early, it will be better by far if they stay away from this disaster,” he thought. “There’s no sense in anyone else being hurt or, The Lighte forbid, being killed by this monstrosity.”

He was on his own against an agent of The Darke.

Questions with no answers, raced through his mind.

“Alright. Those eyes are real and not a figment of my imagination. I wish that it weren’t so. Black lightning can only mean that this is an attack by The Darke. Is this an attack on me personally or on Raeldysce itself? If me, why? If Raeldysce, how? Why attack now? What can this possibly mean?”

Eryen kept an intense watch on the eyes, which appeared to be darting looks in all directions but never quite losing sight of Eryen.

As Eryen watched, he held his breath. He waited expectantly for the lightning to attempt to strike him again.

In quick succession, three or four more flurries of black lightning smashed into the balustrades and pillars, whilst the eyes never for an instant took their focus off Eryen.

Eryen, in turn, ducked and dove at each attack. He held the gaze of the eyes, determined to not allow The Darke any dominion over him.

He involuntarily shuddered in relief when he saw the lightning suddenly veer around and streak away; a black slash slicing through a still-darkened sky. His ears revolted as a piercing wail echoed and reverberated its shriek of frustration.

As the lightning disappeared, the accompanying storm died down as suddenly as it began.

“My Lady Dawne, what is the reason for this attack now as I was about to dedicate our new day to you?” asked Eryen when he had calmed himself.

“There must be some purpose for the attack on me.”

He was as certain of the attack being by The Darke, as he was of those eyes, although his mind revolted at the thought of The Darke being able to invade Raeldysce. “That too, surely verges on the impossible,” he thought.

♦

Eryen was used to being out in the elements and even revelled in the primal power he felt as he braved them.

Ordinarily, he would have thought nothing of a lightning strike so close to him but there was nothing ordinary about the attack of this morning.

Ordinarily, no inclement weather intruded on The Lady Dawne’s special time of ascension.

Ordinarily, The Lady Dawne would have lifted her head at his greeting.

 “Ordinarily, lightning doesn’t hang in mid-air. Ordinarily, it doesn’t take aim and target someone and then turn to attack them again” he reasoned.

 “Ordinarily, lightning doesn’t leave and return into the sky.”

Ordinarily…

Despondent, Eryen turned to face what should have been The Lady Dawne’s welcoming glow.

The whole sky remained as dark and bleak as it was before the storm attack.

Eryen sat in the deafening silence for long minutes.

Finally, he spoke words which would never previously have even entered his consciousness as being necessary. All residents of Raeldysce lived their love and allegiance for The Lighte and its two emissaries, the Lady Dawne and her twin the Lord Dayl.

 “My Lady Dawne, my heart breaks within me. What has Raeldysce done that has caused you to turn your radiant face away from us? If you would but tell me whatever needs to be done, I will ensure that whoever in Raeldysce needs to do it, will do it. If it is me, instruct me and it will be done. If someone else, direct me and I will work with them to do your bidding.”

Somehow Eryen knew that no answer would be forthcoming but he needed to articulate his concerns. His abject despair was eating away at him.

Although Eryen’s first reaction was of distress and anguish, the more he thought of it, the more he felt the urgent need to understand the reasoning behind The Lady Dawne’s rejection, the sudden tempest, and the attack by the lightning.

He sought for answers in The Knowledge of Ages.

Nothing.

His yldryf nature wrenched at him, urged him to move indoors, urged him to make haste or, it seemed to urge, “you will, through your inaction, allow your heritage to die.”

 “What does that mean? ‘Allow my heritage to die’?” he thought. “Nothing makes sense.”

What he did know was that it was vital that he follow the force within his blood which was driving his innermost core to obey commands he did not understand.

Eryen turned hurriedly from his balcony which overlooked the city with all its glowing turrets. His eyes moved to view the undulating wild fields of all manner of wheats, barley and other grasses and the horizon over which The Lady Dawne majestically rose each day. Each day that was, until today, when she turned her face from him. He walked purposefully and quickly towards his palace to check in on Ryallor, his young son and to find Jeala. Jeala was Ryallor’s nursemaid when he was a baby and was now his constant chaperone. She was also much more than that. She was a favoured confidant of Eryen’s and held the prestigious position among the Kingdom’s healers of Intuerum Param for Raeldysce.

“I was attacked by black lightning during my morning devotions, Jeala,” he said when they were seated in an anteroom next to Ryallor’s bedroom.

“Black lightning?” asked Jeala, with uneasiness clouding her eyes. “Eryen, are you sure?”

Eryen looked into Jeala’s eyes and lifted his shirt.

He did not need to say anything.

The fist-sized doubled-eyed burn on his chest appeared as if it were still smouldering.

Jeala sharply drew in her breath and said in her usual efficient manner. “Well. That needs attention!”

She reached into the cupboard behind her, drew out three different coloured vials and mixed some of each to make a poultice. Each of the vials did not smell bad on their own but together they were almost unbearably pungent. Eryen’s face was a picture. The odour was awful.

“This smells disgusting,” said Eryen, wrinkling his nose.

“I know,” smiled Jeala. “It is, but it’s the only thing that’s going to work to get rid of that burn.”

She gently smeared the salve on the burn.

“We’re going to have to remove whatever toxins are in that burn or it’s going to leave a nasty scar, Eryen. If, as I suspect, The Darke was attacking you personally, it would have laced the lightning with contaminants to enter your body and destroy you from the inside. It shall not prevail over you. Not if I have anything to do with it.”

“Thank you, Jeala. I knew that you would immediately know what to do.”

“I do. Rest here a while. The poultice will need some time to draw out those contaminants. It’s also going to hurt, Eryen. A lot.”

“I have to get to the Archaise, Jeala,” said Eryen. “Yldryf has already put on my heart that should I not find answers to this, our heritage will die. I have to go.”

“Not until I get that contaminant out of you, Eryen. What are you thinking? Besides taking a known contaminant into the Archaise, there will also be the five levels of cleansing in the Archaise? How will you cope with that? Your body is already overly sensitive to the aroma, or odour if you prefer, of the poultice. No. I know how impulsive you are at times. This cannot be one of those. Be still for a while.”

Jeala reached into the cupboard again for a glass and a vial.

She poured a few drops of dusty pink liquid, which smelled slightly of mint and cloves, into the glass and added a dash of water.

“This will absorb some of the pain. Not all of it, unfortunately, but you should be able to cope. I’ll not leave you until we know that your body has been cleansed. You’re lucky that the lightning only grazed you, Eryen. That strike was meant as a kill-bolt for your heart.”

“Thank you, Jeala. I knew that you would know what to do and, yes, I suspected as much,” said Eryen as the poultice and the painkiller began to work.

The throbbing of the burn burst into a flare of pain every now and then but subsided to a bearable ache as the painkiller washed over him.

Jeala kept refreshing the poultice.

Each time she did, the flares of pain lessened until, after what seemed like forever but was less than an hour, Eryen knew that his body was released from the toxins. He looked down at his chest. Where previously two eye-shaped burns had stared up at him, there was now only a slightly discoloured blemish.

“That too will fade with time,” said Jeala. “You should rest until you feel that you are strong enough. You’re going to need all your strength because you know and, as I do now as well, that you will need to go to the Archaise.”

Eryen nodded. He was not surprised that Jeala had instinctively brought him back to the direction that his research should take. She was good like that.

“I do and I will definitely rest awhile. Please will you keep this to yourself if you can, Jeala?” said Eryen, pointing to the still reddish burn. “I don’t want to alarm people more than necessary. If anyone saw what happened earlier, they will already be worried. They don’t need to know about the burn. Something very strange is going on and I’ll need to get to the bottom of it urgently. I don’t like this one bit.”

“Of course I’ll not mention it. Now, you need to rest. It will be better if you rest here. No one will disturb you.”

Eryen slept.

Every now and then he sensed Jeala in the room and he knew that she was checking that he was still alright. He would have to thank her again after he had been to the Archaise and found out all that he could about being attacked by black lightning.

He awoke refreshed, thanked Jeala and turned his steps towards the Archaise which contained the Kingdom’s chronological and mythical texts. He would need to go into the texts which he remembered reading when he was still a student.

As with the interpretation of all things arcane, Eryen intuitively knew that the initial point of study of what he wanted to understand would need his thorough examination of the obscure and cryptic mystic literature within the antiquities.

In Raeldysce, these precious archaic texts were housed in an especially designed and carefully grown enclosure. The chambers within the stronghold were kept at a constant temperature by means of a sophisticated network of specifically-grown atmospheric regulators.

In order to ensure that the atmosphere was never corrupted and that the scripts, scrolls and manuscripts never suffered from disease, the only means of entry into the strongholds was through labyrinths of portals and cleansing stations, each designed to slough off layers of regular day-to-day contamination or pollution. It was an arduous procedure and one that deterred all but the most zealous and truly committed academics.

♦

Lebrowen, who was standing in the corridor outside The Archaise, acknowledged Eryen with a warm smile even while his brow was creased in a worried frown.

The two shook hands.

“Hello, Eryen, I saw what happened earlier and knew that you would be on your way here. I was too far away to help. I started running to you as soon as I realised that you were being attacked but, by the time I reached where you’d been standing and caught my breath, everything was calm and you’d gone.”

Lebrowen’s face was a study. He too, was very aware that there was something seriously amiss in a rejection of the prince by The Lady Dawne. He too knew from The Knowledge of Ages and through his study of the deities that The Lady Dawne had never, throughout all of Time and Times, repulsed the greeting of a sovereign of Faeré.

“Thank you, Leb. I’m grateful that you were too late. It’s bad enough that I was being attacked. Malyran would never have forgiven me if you were hurt or worse.”

Lebrowen understood Eryen’s need to make light of the experience.

“Hey! Don’t let Maly hear you say that. Whew! That would earn you the sharp end of her tongue, for sure.” Lebrowen beamed, even if the smile did not quite reach his eyes. He loved Eryen dearly and he knew that his wife did as well.

♦

The friends hugged each other and Lebrowen walked to the left side of the Library door as Eryen nodded and moved to the right. There was no need for formal communication. The compulsion of yldryf called them both and they instinctively hastened to obey the primal petition of their lineage.

The locking mechanism of the Archaise required that two people of authority simultaneously key in the required ciphers, the more senior member using the system on the right hand side of the door. To prevent detection by any possible intruder, the ciphers were allocated at irregular points in time to those who were assigned access rights. The ciphers warped randomly within the correlation until the dynamic internal safety system satisfied itself as to the identities of both participants.

♦

“Thank you, Leb,” said Eryen as he passed through the now unsealed entrance chamber into the principal portal. “Will you please take care that all activities on my schedule for today are fulfilled?”

“Of course, Eryen. I have already started doing that,” nodded Lebrowen.

“Thank you. I know that I needn’t have asked. You are the best of friends, Leb. I fear that my research may take quite a while,” continued Eryen. “Please will you also see to it that I’m not disturbed by anyone?”

“I also anticipated that (you could call me second-sighted), and have already removed those who were here,” said Lebrowen with a smile.

“Ahh, Thanks again, my most perceptive friend. If you or anyone has any ideas of where to find something which may be relevant to the problem we encountered this morning, we’ll go over them when I’ve finished what I have to do.”

Lebrowen’s frown intensified as he nodded again.

“Also, Leb, if you see Malmor or Jivdreg, it may be a good idea to let them know what has happened. Tell them that I’m working on it and am doing some investigating in the Archaise.”

“I’ll do that, Eryen, with pleasure. My heart and soul wish you success in your pursuit.”

 “Thanks, Leb, you are indeed the very best of friends and partners,” repeated Eryen.

Lebrowen’s concern for his heir prince and his friend was patent on his young, as yet unlined, face and also in his jade-coloured eyes.

During their years of formal study, he and Eryen entered The Academe at the same time and the two very quickly became firm friends.

Lebrowen was half yldryf, as was Jivdreg, another of Eryen’s close friends.

Time and Times were changing.