Chapter 7

“There are many ways that a man can live, but seldom few lead to their happiness. However, when one does stumble upon the correct path it can be said that they are one of two things; wise, or lucky” - R’diochaus of the Starhand.

For a time there was silence and not a word was said, no one wanted to break the peace that had settled the room. Of course, this was not the only cause to the lull of sound in the room. Rather, it was the profundity of the Paradox and the properties with which he enraptured them. R’diochaus was his name, R’diochaus of the Starhand; the king smiled now, this could work. Jen rose and eyes moved to the visage of the regal monarch.

“My friends, if I may call you such…” he glanced through the assembled leaders and they all seemed fine with this. Jen smiled and his voice rang true once more “We now have a plan, so I think it’d be best to begin as quickly as we find ourselves able.” It was quiet, still no one spoke, until Monea pressed her hand lightly against her husband’s back and smiled up at him as he looked.

Understanding, he pulled her up gently and then she spoke “as pressing as these matters are, I do believe it would be unfair to force a decision so soon after delivering this multifarious knowledge to our allies here.” The other council-members seemed to agree and even R’diochaus nodded his consent; �"he had went to sit after finishing his speech- they were all in agreement and Monea’s eyes twinkled slightly. “Since none have shown their displeasure with this decision, I say this meeting is adjourned. In two days we shall gather again, this will give us all time to ponder the matters of importance.”

Looking to Jen now with a smile she turned and the two walked out of the circle and departed the main hall. G’hros was the first to realize that his presence was no longer required and so he quickly rose and shuffled haste-fully from the room, the hall’s beauty bothered him. The Starhand did not move and Raal soon found himself rather uncomfortable in their presence. With a rise, a respectful bow, and then a strong step he left them to their own devices.

Of course, in truth it was not only the presence of the delegates that bothered him,

it was the look he had seen in Monea’s eyes. Though he knew very few would have caught it. It had been a look of dark pleasure, a look he had seen far too many times. It was with this worrisome thought that Raal exited the hall and headed for the palace grounds.

The knight’s intentions were simple, he needed some air and he had not seen the people of Raxis for some time, though he had attempted such the night before. Raal figured he might as well enjoy the two day peace while he could, for once the decisions were made, there would be no time for such pleasantries, and no time for rest.

- - - - -

Sound to silence and eyes to sightless gaze. No vibrations of fickle noise would enter their circle. While the outsiders to their council had departed, they all remained to discuss among themselves the matters that to them had been presented. Of course to any peasant’s prying eyes the room looked stagnant for nothing moved and nothing stirred. One might wonder why the delegates remained. The councilman had no need for sound or movement, they had a much more pure way to confer amongst their kin. This way, this…method had a name; a title universally applied across all the peoples of Elszris; The Flow.

It was this intractable maelstrom of colors, energies, and variegated force that truly governed the world. At least, this was the consensus of those who could harness its currents. Yes, a consensus formed from the wise, the powerful, and the studious of Elszris' many people. Only these men and women could truly fathom it, as only they could see it to begin with, though sight was not what allowed this.

No, this variety of senses was attributed not to those of the eyes or the ears, it was attributed to the acuteness of one’s mind, the will inherent in a being’s soul; Willpower, intelligence, creativity, these were the traits of those who dared go beyond their ephemeral existence and test the powers of that which dwelled as an eternal, immutable form of reality. It was this force, this essence of Elszris with which the council communed with one another. The invisible pathways of this world, of the flow coalesced between the councilmen and their counterparts. Their minds were connected and permeated by this indefinable substance.

The one to begin their session was Camariet, his expressions were of enjoyment tinged with the flavors of pleasure and agreement. He had been pleased by the former proceedings. Poradia countered, a slight flash of red: anger. Her displeasure rung thoroughly through those present, Earainia shivered slightly and the impression of sadness permeated the circle. Mariat, the only among them who stood �"in the center at that-, was frowning and watching with his eyes blatantly open while the others had closed theirs in focus. Exceeding this however, was the Paradox. Mariat could not tell whether or not the councilman’s eyes were open or closed, but within the dark visage of his hood were two things that Mariat found himself pleased by: amusement and neutrality.

This was surely the man that he had heard of in his seldom time spent as a councilman, for you see Mariat was the newest of the Starhand. The bard had only been inducted, but three years prior. Glancing further still around the circle his eyes glanced upon several of his kin. Some even portrayed clarity, images and impressions of words though certainly not the words themselves as nothing should ever be ‘said’ in the realm of the flow. All of them laid out what they had learned, and as he continued he integrated the feelings of the others into one comprehensive whole, a summary. Then Earainia moved to touch the mind of The Gilded Hands, Mariat deftly switched his thoughts with a false surface. He smiled as his spouse sifted through, not even faltering or appearing to notice the change in the least.

Oddly though, R’diochaus shifted upon this event, but not even displeasure or suspicion crept into the circle…strange. The session continued, arguing back and forth as they usually did, the councilmen came to one conclusive point; they had to assist Moria whether they truly enjoyed the prospect or not. Then, one who had been silent throughout both the former meeting and the present session of council, spoke up; not only did he speak, but he pushed his intentions into the circle so strongly that the others were almost overtaken, including Mariat himself. The one who had begun was Gesej; the Starhand of the Whisperer.

“Hhikhar ranoria so fal. O’ai Vasta der miin vetar,” the bard shivered as pure denial and hostility rolled over his form, Mariat’s eyes for the first time narrowed, the first time in a gloriously long stretch of his life. This was the language, a false language derived from the natural movements of the flow when people felt and experienced. It was the common and official language of The Starhand. It was also forbidden within the session of a council to speak in a blasphemous voice to that which was the flow.

There was silence as a feeling of deep foreboding descended upon their poor souls, Mariat guarded himself, withdrew to a deep portion of his consciousness, and observed. The light from the stained glass windows seemed filtered suddenly, the room felt as if it were vibrating, the air a conductor for the horrid sound that he knew only they could hear. In the eyes of Gesej there was only fear now, fear and panic. The other councilman had also withdrawn, but Gesej could not, he had defamed the aspect of his constellation, and he would pay for it; he would pay dearly.

- - - - -

He stood there, quietly looking up at the great gates, closed as they were, that separated the Archis castle from the rest of Raxis. There was no smile there, until he saw the sky, it was beautiful and blue, the two suns shone brightly from their own corners of the sky. One was red and the other was a fierce dark blue. He breathed in, there was a slight breeze and he could hear a brook nearby. His eyes opened and his head turned, it was the small stream, he followed it through the palace grounds till it disappeared beneath the wall. Raal knew it appeared on the other side, he decided now that he would surely follow it again, like he had when he was once a young squire.

“Sir Raal? Do you intend to exit into the city?” it was the guardsman who was stationed at the gate in the mid day hours. Raal looked to the man, what had his name been…Orani? “Yes Orani, thank you, just lost in my memories.” Orani smiled slightly and nodded as he called up to the men on top of the wall “open the gates, Sir Raal wishes to pass through!!”

It took several minutes to get the door lodged open enough for him to slip through and as he did he waved to them and called back his thanks. He turned and the countryside revealed itself to him for the first time in a long time, a very long time. It had been years since he had set foot in the capital, five years to be exact, what a long time it had been since he had seen these hills.

He remembered those days like it had only been yesterday; he had once explored these hills, the houses of Raxis, the alleys, and the hovels �"though few there were here-. It was more his home, then the village of Varmatkri, where he had been born. Shaking his head he began to walk, that was the second time, he thought. It did not matter, and as he passed he found that a few of the citizens still held him in their minds. “Greetings” a man walking to his fields said with a wave and a familiar smile. Raal nodded “and good day Aree,” he laughed to himself quietly, the people of Raxis, and of most of Moria, were good people. Well spirited would be the term he thought, lively as well.

He was nearing the city, for between the walls of the palace and Raxis itself was a long path, around a 6^th of a mile he thought, not too long. The path seemed rather harmless, in fact the surrounding area of trees was quite beautiful, but Raal knew better. In fact, in that very moment he strengthened his own defenses as a pressure struck for a moment. He did not falter and continued to walk ‘the defenses are still in place it seems’; it was not just guards that defended Raxis nor was it an army. In fact, it wasn’t even the royal bards, these were not the fulcrum point of its defense.

It was something else, something much more inherent in Moria’s nature as a land; the defense of its capital and many of its other cities was through leylines, the same ones that R’diochaus had mentioned earlier that day. With only the slightest modification to the paths and purposes of these leylines, a defense of immense strength could be laid with very little actual effort. Unlike traditional use of the flow this was different, for while it was still an act of weaving ones internal essence into the allegedly external pathways of the world, it was not simply to bend the simplistic forces around you. No, leylines were something from which power was inherent, it emanated like heat would from an inferno, it was potent and it distinctly marked all it came in contact with.

There was less of a smile on his face now as he thought, how could one so simply harness the power from crossing leylines? He may not have been privy to the highest knowledge, but he knew a good thing or two about the flow and its essential workings. He also knew that though ‘little’ effort was needed for the slight alteration of a leyline’s nature, he also knew that anything beyond slight was something that not even an adept could do with even moderate effort.

A woman passed, likely delivering a message to the palace, Raal nodded to her and then looked ahead, it seemed the city was upon him. He shook his head, clearing the thoughts of defense and magic from it, and turned his mind to his surroundings. He let out a deep breath and allowed his smile to return, he would make today a good one. That was if he could help it of course.

- - - - -

In the palace once more, Jen and Monea walked arm and arm to their chambers, they needed some time to think and confer in a place where seldom few might interrupt. Their steps echoed through the decorated halls of the palace and after a few minutes of rather brisk walking they opened the door and began to settle within their room. Monea looked herself over with a mirror and then glanced back to see Jen sit down and then lay back on the edge of their bed.

She moved and sat beside him, turning and putting her hand on his as she supported herself and looked at his tired and frustrated face. “You must not fret so, they seemed pleased with the proceedings,” the king shook his head.

“It is not that they are pleased or not, it is that we had so little to offer in the way of a plan, and that man…”. He shook his head and closed his eyes, Monea looked down upon him with a slight amusement hidden behind her worry. She found his frustration so endearing, so she leaned down and kissed him, his eyes shot open in surprise, and he tried to recover and respond to her motion of affection. Jen’s arms moved almost of their own accord and pulled her lithe form down into bed with him, she smiled as they kissed and then drew away after a brief moment more.

Lying next to him with her head against his chest and her hand on it as well she spoke “do not worry so much dear, the outcome is more important in this case, is it not my king?” Jen smiled back at her and kissed her forehead “you always know, don’t you Monea?”

Monea’s head tilted as if she knew naught of his claim “know what oh king of Moria?” There was a glint in her eyes.

Jen laughed “just what to say, and what is needed.” Monea smiled and moved her lips just before his; he could feel her soft breath as she looked into his eyes.

“Such is the way of women,” she then kissed him, deeply.

‘It is our way’ she thought ‘and my way to play the strings of so many marionette in a puppet show.’ Ominous were these thoughts, but ominous more still was the glint, the same glint Raal had seen earlier, and yet no one ever seemed to know, or to notice. However the real question was, what did the look mean, and why was it there? How could someone so kind and gracious possess a look so dark?

Was it a hidden malice, greed, or some other sin, some other darkness that dwelled in her heart? Or was it darkness it all, was it even a force anyone would know? Or did someone perhaps know, a certain knight perhaps?

Only time would tell, time and its paths. Fate one might say, would dictate how things might reveal themselves, or not. Regardless it was all a matter of time and of choices, for the choices people make are the ripples of fate’s influence on the world.