Chapter 1 - Part 2

The two princes meet with their father and the court mage Abareth outside the Collisphere and before long their entire understanding of their society is turned on its head.

  A short walk later, the mighty Collisphere was within sight; a giant stone dome that had �" or as some believed - existed since the beginning of time itself. Casren himself believed that whilst the indomitable structure was ancient, only people with overactive imaginations could think that it was that old. Every few years, Abareth and his six or so acolytes used a preservation charm to keep the Collisphere from being damaged by weather and age. How long the restoration had being going on was impossible to say, as the dome looked flawless enough to have been constructed that very day; yet somehow it gave off a feeling of endlessness, an eternal sentinel to watch over the Seven Cities.

  There were no windows on the Collisphere’s surface, no clues as to what was kept inside its robust walls, making the desire to find out all the more tantalising. The giant arch door was said to have some sort of blood seal upon it, making entry impossible unless you were one of the few who were permitted. 

The only information the Collisphere was willing to give was stretched across its surface: carved skilfully upon it was the ancient history of the world’s creation in pictographic form, each sculpted form so seamlessly engraved that one could almost see the figures’ stone chests lift as they breathed. Whether the story that unfolded across it was true or not, one could not deny the beauty of the dome.

  Beside the Collisphere, Casren and Baelir could make out two figures, presumably Abareth and their father. They stood awkwardly in silence next to each other, long having exhausted their options of small talk. When they noticed the brothers’ arrival, Marlon exhaled in visible relief, instantly walking over to greet his sons. Abareth remained behind, resolving to wait in the side-lines until needed. He watched them levelly, his craggy face remaining neutral and giving away nothing of his inner thoughts. Casren observed this as his father approached, and for a fleeting moment, their eyes met, Casren’s pale blue met by the darkness of Abareth’s. An unpleasant coolness ran through Casren in this moment, as if Abareth’s empty blackness consumed the brightness within himself. But then their eyes parted, and the unnerving sensation passed as swiftly as it had come.

  “Casren, Baelir, so good of you to finally arrive, I was worried the messenger had missed you,” greeted Marlon sincerely, embracing them warmly in turn.

“My apologies Father, I was in the training yard all morning and Baelir had to wait for me in my chambers to tell me himself,” apologised Casren.

“Took him forever to get there too,” said Baelir huffily.

“No matter, it couldn’t have been helped, at least you both eventually received word. I trust you remember Abareth?” asked Marlon, gesturing to Abareth, who was yet to show any interest in their arrival besides the dark glance Casren had received.

“Yes of course,” said Casren, nodding in greeting at Abareth.

“Pleasantries aside, could we possibly move along? There is much to do,” dismissed Abareth.

“How polite,” murmured Baelir.

“Very well, very well, you have a point,” conceded Marlon, though a little frustrated at Abareth’s impertinence. “Now then, the real reason I have brought you here is to show you something. But before I do that, I would like you to humour an old man by reading the events detailed in the carvings�"“

“Marlon is this really necessary?” demanded Abareth impatiently.

“Yes it is. I need to know my sons remember our history well enough to understand the significance of what we are about to show them. If you don’t like it, feel free to wait inside the Collisphere and we will meet you there shortly,” replied Marlon, remaining calm but growing tired of Abareth. His response seemed to quell Abareth’s restiveness, as he simply stood in his place with silence as his only response.

“Well, with the grouchy mage silenced, Casren can get on with story time,” chipped in Baelir.

“Why me?”

“You’ve got a better voice than me. Plus I haven’t looked at these scribbling’s in years; I don’t even remember half the story.”

 A blackness swept over Abareth, his eyes fixated savagely on Baelir. “Foolish boy, these ‘scribblings’ are our history, left here by the Gods to remind us of our past and to learn from the mistakes our ancestors made, yet you reduce them to meaningless fabrications to be mocked. I won’t stand here and listen to this,” snarled Abareth before storming off, robes flapping behind him in his haste.

  Marlon sighed, shaking his head in despair as Baelir and Casren stood in bemusement.

“Well that was a bit scary over nothing,” said Baelir.

“You weren’t exactly tactful. He is the leading expert on our history and the Collisphere, dedicating his whole life to its study,” pointed out Casren.

“Oh. Still, that scene of his was a bit melodramatic don’t you think?”

“Enough!” snapped Marlon, well and truly exasperated now. “Regardless of his behaviour, Abareth is right, and your thoughtlessness is not helping. We have little time as it is without you making fun of everything.”

“Little time for what? Father, just tell us what’s going on,” implored Casren.

“Everything will be made clear soon. But first, the carvings if you will,” Marlon gestured to the Collisphere, refusing to release any information until he had his way.

“Very well,” agreed Casren.

  With Baelir and Marlon in tow, Casren walked round the Collisphere to the first set of carvings. He traced his finger over sections of the sculpted images, familiarising himself with the story as he did so. Every child, regardless of which city they came from, were taught the events in front of him, but very few could remember the details when they reached adulthood. Casren doubted that the rough version wouldn’t be good enough for his father though, so he rummaged through his memory to try and conjure the tale once more. He didn’t understand why this could be so important, but his outburst over Baelir’s joviality suggested that whatever was going on was as serious as they had originally speculated.

“Well, there are the Four Gods who created our world, Gharas. Igniatis, God of fire and courage; Termazda, God of earth and wisdom; Nymlus, God of water and cunning; and Aertala, God of air and endurance.  By combining their power, the land took form. Knowing that they would not always be there to protect their world, they made the three original races to watch over Gharas. First they made the High Elves, the beautiful spiritual beings connected to all natural matter, followed by the intelligent Dwarves adept at craftsmanship and obsessed with treasure, and finally the humans, easily corruptible but true and dedicated in everything they do.

“Content with their creations, they left the races to exist independently from one another, not wanting them to be tainted by the others’ attributes. However, humans with their curious nature, were fascinated by the other races, and set out from their homeland to greet them. They first approached the Dwarves, but they were altogether too threatened by their alien appearance to meet them, returning to their treasure deep below the earth for comfort. Unsatisfied, the humans searched out the High Elves instead. The beauty of the High Elves was intoxicating, and they found themselves spellbound by the very sight of them. Filled with lust, the humans seduced the High Elves, who only sought harmony between all forms of life. Their enticement of the High Elves caused the creation of the crossbred human and elf Halflings that we are familiar with today.

“When the Gods discovered what the humans had done, they were overcome with rage. In their eyes the Halflings were abominations birthed from unholy carnalism, impure b******s outside their plans. So, as punishment, the Gods plucked the human cities that had spread across Gharas and bundled them all together, creating the Glass Forest to entrap them so that humans could never taint the races again. In addition, they also cast the Halflings in with the now disgraced humans, choosing to spare them rather than commit them to genocide. The Collisphere exists as a reminder of the corruptibility of our kind, and that the Gods will not hesitate to punish us should we attempt to go against their will,” finished Casren.

  Nodding in approval, Marlon said, “Yes, well done, I am glad to see at least one of you is familiar with the carvings.”

“Maybe when you’re all grown up you can be a historian,” teased Baelir.

“Better than sleeping with the entire population of Pecunis,” retorted Casren.

“Who says I haven’t done that already,” said Baelir, grinning inanely.

“We are going to get nowhere at this rate,” groaned Marlon, ruffling his hair in frustration, “There is so much you need to learn and so little of it you will grasp in time, of that I have no doubt.”

  The weariness in his father’s voice caused Casren to pause and look at him properly for the first time in quite a while. That’s the trouble with living with someone for so long �" it is too easy to simply believe that they will always be the same and miss out on important differences. Marlon’s complexion was pale and pasty, his life-force seemingly easing away from his body to leave a tired old husk where a once lively man once stood. Years appeared to be piling on and weighing down his flesh by the second, crumpling creases into his already aged face. Casren found this decline difficult to witness, but decided against asking about his condition for now. Clearly there was enough on his mind without adding to it.

  “Father please, just tell us what’s going on,” implored Casren. “Perhaps it’s not as bad as you believe it to be; maybe Baelir and I can help?”

“Sure, volunteer me without asking why don’t you,” huffed Baelir.

“Well you clearly weren’t going to do it yourself,” said Casren.

“I was still thinking about it.”

“You have no idea how bad matters are my sons, and they will only get worse. Inside the walls of the Collisphere lies an ancient message, no, more an order left for us when our race was disgraced all those years ago. Only the Enndosius family and a few others such as Abareth may know so as to retain order in Patharis. I carried out this order when I was your age, but now it is your turn. And may the Gods protect and guide you as you do so,” said Marlon.

  He turned from them then, heading towards the arch door that led into the Collisphere. The brothers watched Marlon place his right hand where the handle should have been, but instead there was only smooth wood. He closed his eyes, murmured some inaudible words, and the wood beneath his hand curved up and over, until his entire hand was submerged in the wood.

  Alarmed, Casren moved forward to aid his father, but Marlon merely waved him back, allowing the wood to continue whatever it was doing to him. Marlon’s face clenched into a grimace briefly before relaxing, the living wood releasing him from its grasp as it returned to its solid form.  There was now a small bead of blood at the centre of the back of the palm where something had pierced the skin. Marlon repeatedly clenched his hand, the odd process obviously discomforting for him.

  “The Elranin wood will now allow you entry into the Collisphere. Each of you place your hand flat against the door so that it may record your presence,” instructed Marlon.

  Casren glanced over at Baelir, who caught his gaze. They knew each other so well that they could tell what the other was thinking just by reading their expression, a private connection that only they shared. To their father, it looked like a simple moment of sharing their apprehension, but to Casren and Baelir, a silent conversation was going on. They were both worried; the rumours of a blood seal were far from accurate, it was the wood itself that allowed or denied entry. A blood seal was simple �" smear some blood on the seal and if you are allowed in the door would swing open, if not, they would remain shut �" but they had no idea what the Elranin wood would do if their father was wrong and it considered them intruders. Yet there didn’t seem to be much of an option. They had to let the door judge them.  Baelir shrugged, agreeing that they were indeed going to do it. Taking a deep breath, Casren turned from Baelir and fixed his gaze on the door, placing his hand on its surface as Marlon had instructed. Baelir followed suit, placing his hand next to Casren’s. The wood then rose from its slumber once more, slinking over their hands until they were swallowed up to their wrists. There was a faint warmth to the wood, as though it were indeed a living organism. Unexpected roughness scraped against the skin of Casren’s hand, and he gasped in fright. It continued to run itself across the back of his palm, as if assessing him. After a few moments of this strange sensation, something sharp darted into the skin, digging straight down to the bone. He felt it rasp briefly against the bone, before removing itself back into the wood.

  It must have found them both acceptable, as the wood released them both. The brothers let out a sigh of relief. Looking down at his hand, There was a small drop of blood where the creature, if it could even be named so, had pierced him, identical to the cut Marlon had previously. He looked over to Baelir to find him sucking at the open wound in an attempt to stop the bleeding.

“So…can we go in now that the vampire door has had a nibble at our hands?” asked Baelir, having removed his hand from his mouth.

“Certainly,” said Marlon, “after you.”

  Hesitantly, Casren pushed at the door, which swung open at his touch. As he led the way inwards, he was taken aback by what was now in front of him.

  Whatever Casren had imagined to be within the Collisphere, it certainly wasn’t what was before him now. The walls, like the outside surface, were covered in more carvings, but what really grabbed his attention was the giant glass lenses stretched across the top of the domed ceiling. Each one was a different size and thickness but so flawlessly clear that the only way to recognise their existence were the gold plates that surrounded the edge of each lens. Casren had no idea what their use could be, but they were connected to cogs and dials, suggesting that they could be moved.

  As he continued to study the room, he turned his attention to the floor, or rather, the lack of one. The majority of the floor was non-existent; there were a few metres around the outside of the dome, before it plummeted away to nothing. A narrow walkway stretched the length of the large room before meeting at a hollow circle directly at the centre of the room. But beneath that, there was only a blackness that stretched on for miles .What made it all the more disconcerting was the lack of any bannisters to protect people from falling into the deep chasm, one false step and one would find themselves falling endlessly into the dark void. Whether such a thing had happened in the past, it was impossible to tell.

  Marlon was staring at Casren and Baelir intently, trying to gauge their impression of the structure. Looking over at Baelir, Casren was amused to find him in a paralysed state of awe. His eyes were animatedly darting to and fro in their sockets, desperately trying to absorb as much of the sight as possible, as if it were to be torn away from him at any moment. As to what he himself looked like, Casren could only imagine, but he doubted that he had much more composure that his brother.

  “Amazing isn’t it?” Marlon stated more than asked. “Our scholars have studied the interior extensively and no one has been able to identify the race behind its design.”

“Then who created it?” asked Casren.

“Our best guess is that the Gods made the Collisphere as a guide to assist us in their absence. As you can, see there are more pictographs on the walls. Unlike the ones on the exterior, these are not for everyone’s eyes, which is why the Elranin wood is present to restrict access. Only the Enndosius family, Abareth and the mages required to sustain and study the building are allowed to be here. The truth held within would be very disturbing for the commoners, as you will understand for yourselves soon enough.”

“As lovely as all this is, and I use the word ‘lovely’ very lightly, why tell us about this now? Is it to do with the big, nasty thing you are avoiding telling us about?” asked Baelir.

“Ah well, Abareth can explain that to you. I would recommend you apologise to him. He’s a proud man, passionate about his work. He will be of little use to us if he believes you are incompetent and not worth his effort,” said Marlon, waving Abareth over from where he had been instructing one of his colleagues. Frowning, he dismissed the other man to his work and approached them.

Baelir nudged Casren in his side. “Go on, apologise to the scary mage then,” he whispered.

“Me?! You were the one who insulted him!” hissed Casren.

“Yeah, but you’re the endearing one. He’ll believe it from you.”

“You’re on your own this time, brother!” said Casren before pushing Baelir forwards at Abareth, who grimaced disdainfully at him.

“Can I help you, boy?” snarled Abareth.

“Yes, um, look I want to say I’m sorry for being rude about all this stuff earlier, I didn’t�"“

“Stop talking. It’s clear that you don’t really have any respect for me or this place. If we must work together, then let us at least not waste energy on the pretence that we like each other. It will save a lot of energy,” snapped Abareth, his intensely dark eyes boring into Baelir’s.

“Um, sure, I guess,” mumbled a bemused Baelir, shuffling back to his brother’s side.

“Good effort,” whispered Casren sarcastically.

“Shut up,” grunted Baelir.

“Abareth, would you care to detail the events depicted in the internal pictographs for my sons?” asked Marlon in a desperate attempt to diffuse the awkward tension in the small group.

“No, I wouldn’t. But I suppose I must,” sighed Abareth, turning his back to them and gesturing to the carvings. “What you see here is our ancestors discovering the Collisphere and its true purpose for the first time. By bringing each of the ocuvitra - those glass lenses suspended above us - into the centre, it is possible to magnify one’s natural ability to see. Javrid, if you will.”

  The man Abareth had been talking to earlier nodded in acknowledgement of Abareth’s request. He walked around the outer rim of the abyss with confidence, completely adjusted to the exposed pit only a few feet away. Stopping at a golden crank that seemed connected to the ocuvitri above, Javrid took a hold of the handle and began to turn it repeatedly.

  The effect was instant. Each cog turned smoothly in the hold of the corresponding slot as Javrid continued to turn the handle, metal scraping against metal as they churned on. Each ocuvitra was connected to a short strip of gold before it connected to the moving cogs, and as time progressed they slowly descended towards the central hollow circle. There was no fault in this process, the ocuvitri slid elegantly downwards, until they were lying ontop of each other, filing the hole with glass and gold.

  “If you’ll follow me,” said Abareth, walking down the walkway towards the assembled ocuvitri.

Casren and Baelir followed him gingerly, the vertigo sensation making their stomachs lurch uneasily. Reaching the ocuvitri only relieved them slightly, as there was only marginally more room on the platform to support them. But as they looked upon what the ocuvitri enabled them to see, their discomfort was forgotten, replaced instead by wonder.

  Down at the bottom of the tunnel was a large sphere composed of a mixture of lava, water, rock and mist,  all swirling harmoniously together. Where normally these matters would react to each other’s presence, they somehow were unable to do so, simply shifting away and continuing their slow, fluid dance.

“What is that thing,” managed a dumb-struck Casren.

“It is the Core of our world. When the Gods first created it, it was a mere shell incapable of supporting life, so each God poured a tiny sliver of their essence down into the centre of the planet. When their energies combined, life spread throughout Gharas to create oceans, plants, animals and ultimately the three races,” said Abareth.

“How generous of them,” said Baelir.

“At first, yes, but by giving up a fragment of themselves, they were weakened, unable to sustain their ethereal form eternally as before. For some time they were content with this; they could shift into a corporeal form of their choosing and observe their creation first hand. But when we made the Halflings, they were enraged that we had ruined their perfect creation when they had made it at the cost of their own immortality.

 “So they devised our ultimate punishment, more harsh than the entrapment within the Glass Forest. Each generation, the direct descendants of the humans who originally tempted the High Elves would be forced to venture out beyond the Glass Forest, and prove that they still deserved to exist on their world by completing four tasks, one chosen by each God. If those descendants pass the task the God provides, they will receive a token, a symbol of their approval that must be returned to the Collisphere and cast down into the Core. Should they fail, the Gods will remove their essences, and the world will return to the lifeless wasteland it originally was, killing all life in the process,” said Abareth.

“That’s…a bit on the harsh side,” breathed Baelir.

“How do we know when this will happen? And who are the descendants?” asked Casren.

“We know from the Beacon. Come, I will show you,” said Abareth, walking away from the ocuvitri before anyone could say otherwise.

Leading them back across the walkway to the opposite end of the dome from which they had entered, Abareth approached a decorative cabinet. He reached into his collar and lifted out a small golden key attached to a leather cord tied around his neck. As he lifted it over his head, he turned to Marlon.

“You may want to brace yourself, your Majesty. Being in such close proximity to the Beacon may cause you some…discomfort, what with your condition,” advised Abareth.

“Yes of course, thank you for the warning,” thanked Marlon, clenching his entire body in preparation.

Casren shot his father an alarmed look. What in Patharis did he mean,  ‘being in his condition’? Marlon smiled reassuringly, but his eyes betrayed his true feelings. He was scared. And a father, let alone a King, would never let their son see them scared if they could prevent it.

  Abareth slid the key into the lock and opened the cabinet, returning the key to around his neck once he had done so. Inside was a brilliant white globule of fizzing energy, with small sparks crackling out from it. The sphere was mesmerising to look at, its shimmering light enchanting anyone who looked at it with its stunning allure.

  From Casren’s side came a faint whimper. He tore himself from the glaring ball to find the source of the sound, though he already suspected its owner. His father’s face was crimson from concentration as he tried to restrain himself from crying out in pain. “Father?! What’s wrong?” cried Casren, resting an anxious hand on Marlon’s shoulder.

“N-nothing. I’m fine Casren,” stammered Marlon, sucking air through his clenched teeth.

“Rubbish! What’s the matter? Tell us.” Insisted Baelir, unable to mask his concern with his usual humour.

“The Beacon taps the life essence of the last descendant who interacted with it during the previous cycle, so that it can signify the beginning of a new one. This ball of light is in fact, a fragment of King Marlon’s soul, harnessed by the Gods for the own purpose,” explained Abareth, seemingly unfazed by Marlon’s discomfort.

“We get the point, shut the damn door mage,” snarled Baelir.

Sighing as if inconvenienced by Marlon’s pain, Abareth did as he was told and locked the cabinet doors with the key. The relief was instantaneous; Marlon exhaled deeply, the disturbing shade of red fading from his face.

“Thank you. That was far more unpleasant than I anticipated,” said Marlon.

“But wait, if the Beacon uses the soul of the descendant from the previous generation, then�"“ started Casren.

“Yes. You and your idiot brother are the only two who can prove we deserve to live on Gharas, otherwise the Gods will wipe us out as if we were rodents. So do try and not mess this up, or it will cost every lifeform’s existence on Gharas,” said Abareth.

“Well…this should be interesting,” said Baelir.

“But, we don’t even know where to begin,” stated Casren.

“That is where we come in,” said Marlon.

Reviews

[carynolivia]

I AM SO HOOKED NOW EVEN MORE SO THAN BEFORE.

I HAVE QUESTIONS AND I WANT ANSWERS.

So, this Glass Forest of yours, are the Enndosius' and the rest of humanity, as well as the Halflings, currently trapped inside it? Does that mean the Elves and Dwarves are somewhere in Gharas outside of the Glass Forest?

WHY IS ABARETH THE WAY HE IS

HE COULD BE MORE SUPPORTIVE INSTEAD OF JUST A BITTER OLD MAN

Also, despite you having written this like a couple years ago, a lot of the ideas are reading like things in Skyrim to me, hahah. Like the Collisphere reminds me of the Eye of Magnus - though they're totally different in scale and everything but still. There was something else which also sounded Skyrim-ish to me but I'll be damned if I remember it.

ONLY ONE SMALL POINT TO MAKE: you did that thing where you repeat a word unnecessarily again. The word is 'once' but I can't remember/see where I spotted it.

other than that

GIVE ME MORE GODDAMNIT

[Gaelan_Hamilton]

THERE'S ONLY ONE MORE CHAPTER READY AHAHAHA

Right, the Glass Forest doesn't REALLY need to be worried about just now. All you need to know is it's big, it hurts and for some reason only a few people have been able to get through it alive (I know how but LOL I ain't telling).

Yup, the Elves and Dwarves live outside the Glass Forest, only the Halflings and humanity stay within Patharis cause the Gods got pissy. There are some small groups of humans that live outside Patharis too that have kinda merged together after surviving the Glass Forest somehow (no Caryn I'm not telling you how) but they are very few in number.

The Bards' Monastery is also kicking about out there but again I'm not revealing more cause secrets.

Abareth's beef will be revealed a LOT later on, towards the end of book one actually, so you'll have to wait :P

Glad you're liking it!!! The more epic feedback I get the more I wanna burn Venom'd Stang and get back to Charge of Gods :L

[carynolivia]

GODDAMNIT SCRAP YOUR STANG

I NEED GODS AND CHARGES AND COLLISPHERE AND S**T

[Gaelan_Hamilton]

#SCRAPTHESTANG

[Liani]

I'm hooked too! Wow, this is so good! Probably one of the best fantasy pieces I've ever read. I love all the detail and I can tell you put a lot of thought and effort into it. Well done!

[shannon_writes]

"“Me?! You were the one who insulted him!” hissed Casren.
“Yeah, but you’re the endearing one. He’ll believe it from you.”"

This just encapsulates siblings so well, I'd quote more but then this entire review would be copying and pasting all of their interactions.

I'm loving it so far, it's obvious how much detail and thought you've put into the lore and mythology of the world, and duh Baelir's my favourite so far. If you kill him off I swear to God.