The Legend Of The Seven Crystals The One Crystal - Chapter 5 Chapter Ii The Gathering

Only once before had Spartas found himself facing imminent death. Years earlier, a crazed ogre had wandered into the depths of Fulgrom, and had surprised Prince Spartas who was out hunting. The ogre had roared, raising a club thicker than the future king’s entire body, and rushed at the elf, clearly intending to do mortal damage. Suddenly, Spartas found his life focused on the ogre and nothing else, the world around him seeming to slow as if by magic to a near standstill. Somehow, that unnatural sense of time halting in its tracks gave Spartas the opportunity to evade the massive creature’s blow and escape with his life.

His current situation became an echo of the encounter with the ogre. Everything – the dragon, the people on the street, the sound of things snapping in the wind – seemed to slow to a crawl as the dragon hurtled toward him in an out-of-control spiral. In those few seconds of perceived deceleration, Spartas was able to evade the young dragon by stepping quickly aside. A moment later, time returned to its regular pace as the creature crashed to the ground at the exact spot where the King had stood a split second before.

“That was too close, my King!” Masori shook his head, one hand over his heart.

Spartas took long, shaky breath. “Yes, it was.” He turned toward the dragon, which had begun making a whimpering sound in its scaly throat. “This is a young one,” he muttered, head tilted. “A good thing, too.”

“Indeed, sir,” said one of the merchants who had been watching. “A larger dragon would have been impossible to avoid! Then again, you elves are a quick lot, eh?” He gave the King a friendly pat on the arm and went back to his booth.

“I suppose we are.” Spartas chuckled, but then sobered as he went to the dragon and crouched down beside it. “You poor creature. Looks like you learned the hard way not to try flying in such weather.” He stroked its nose, and twin puffs of smoke shot out of its nostrils. “I do hope you aren’t injured.” The King stood, frowning. “Is there anyone here who can help this dragon?” he called out.

A woman in a dark blue gown covered by an apron of unadorned white linen approached the King, gave him a swift curtsey, and showed him the satchel she carried. “I am a medic, my lord. Perhaps I can help.”

Spartas gave her a curious stare – she looked human, but her ears came almost to a point. Half-elf, maybe? Not that it mattered. “Thank you, madam. I suppose I could have stood still and given this dragon a softer landing spot, but then both of us would be in need of your services.”

She smiled and opened her satchel. “He was foolish to try flying at a time like this. I’m glad you weren’t hurt, my lord.” She turned away, knelt beside the dragon, and began pulling things from the satchel. “He’ll live,” she said over her shoulder.

“I thank you. Do you need anything?”

“No. I have what’s necessary to repair the damage – it’s minor.”

Nodding, Spartas put a hand on his servant’s shoulder, pointing toward the road with the other. “That, my good Masori, is where we need to be right now, wouldn’t you say?”

“We certainly do, my King.” Masori cast a quick glance at the dragon and the attending medic. “We still have some time, but if we delay any longer, we most assuredly will be late.”

“Agreed. The Beam is due to be activated soon to restore the epta and I must be there.” King Spartas waved a hand at the angry-looking clouds partially obscuring Miroh. “Then this turmoil will cease, and our scaly friend will be safe to travel the skies again.”

The elves increased their pace as they headed toward the stairs, now close enough to be seen in greater detail. Like the palace walls, the steps were of black stone, their surface shiny and worn into a shallow curve at the center of each from the thousands of feet that had used them over the years.

As they climbed, they passed a number of people coming back down, and could hear a few ascending behind them. Reaching the top took several minutes, but when they did, King Spartas stepped to one side and turned around. As he had suspected, he was gazing out over the palace town, past the wall, and across a view of the continent that stretched for miles and miles.

“I can see all the lands of the Central Plains,” he said, delighted.

Beside him, Masori shifted from foot to foot. “Sire, we really should keep going.”

“Of course, my anxious friend.” He gathered the collar of his cloak closer about his throat. “Seems the wind is even stronger up here.”

They continued a few yards until they reached a massive set of doors crafted in decorated bronze, and which Spartas surmised led directly to the entrance of the Palace, and then, beyond that, to the towers that encircled the Portal platform.

Two soldiers were standing before the gate, ornate halberds held upright beside each, their faces expressionless.

“Greetings, sirs,” said Masori with a respectful bow. “This is King Spartas, Guardian of the Elf Crystal.”

“Your highness,” said the one on their right, “they are waiting for you. All the others have arrived.” He stepped to one side while the other soldier pushed on the gate, which swung open in silence on oiled hinges.

The beauty of the palace and its attendant structures stood before them, their majestic construction amazing King Spartas and his knight. They were escorted into the palace, and brought to a huge room where the Guardians and their companions were waiting.

*******

All the Guardians had arrived except for the elven king. Sir Basil glanced at his list, frowning at the one name that had yet to be crossed off. “Where is King Spartas? I can’t start without him,” he muttered, thinking of the instructions he was to give them about the joining.

As the Captain of the Guard, he had been given the job of making sure all Guardians were accounted for and kept under control. Rarely did one find members of the more volatile races in company with the simpler semi-barbaric races. And then there were the peaceful ones whose gentle manner of speech and behavior seemed to infuriate the ones who were warlike and in constant need of a fight.

The spacious room, with its magnificent frescoed ceiling from which hung huge chandeliers ornamented with gold and silver, had only been used for grand parties over the years. The floor that normally reflected brightly-dressed attendees as they danced across its polished surface was this day reflecting the somber figures of the dignitaries and the silver of armored knights awaiting the event that would save their planet.

For the umpteenth time, and perhaps to stave off his impatience, Sir Basil began to circle the room, nodding and smiling at the Guardians and their attendants. Each of the five Guardians had brought traveling companions – for protection, no doubt – in numbers ranging from two to twelve. The tally so far was forty, but even if King Spartas brought a sizeable contingent, the room was still more than ample to contain the final number.

The room rumbled with conversation. As he passed through the crowd, Basil heard them discussing the magnificence of the Palace of Nipos or about their travels, while others chatted about nothing important, perhaps to stave off boredom. After all, many of them had already been there for almost two hours.

Hearing nothing about which to be alarmed, Sir Basil returned to his post in the corner beside the tall curtains where he could see everything, including the main door. He glared at this, as if doing so would cause it to open and the absentee elves enter.

“Sir Basil!”
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Startled, the Captain of the Guard turned toward the source of the voice, which had come from behind the curtain near his left shoulder. The loud whisper seemed too high-pitched to be one of the male servants, but it wasn’t until a hand parted the curtains that he saw who it was.

“Princess Yvonne!” Sir Basil quickly contained his shock and executed a deep bow.

“Sshh! No one must know I’m here.” She had ducked further back behind the curtain, leaving only a small opening through which to speak.

“Why are you here?” said Basil in a low voice while nodding to one of the dignitaries’ companions passing by – a dwarf in leather armor.

“Why do you think, Basil? I want to see our guests. This will be the first time I’ve laid eyes on the Guardians together in the same room, and will probably be the last, since I’m sure they’ll all return to their kingdoms once this Crystal business is done. Is that wrong of me?”

“No, your highness. However, I’m sure your father doesn’t know you’re here, and I fear he might hold me responsible should he find out. There is a proper venue for meeting our guests, and I have no doubt you’ll be in attendance when they are introduced there.”

The sound of a sigh. “He will not be angry with you if he doesn’t know about this. So… can this be our secret, Basil? Please?”

He wanted to laugh – as if he could deny her anything! Everyone loved Princess Yvonne and he was no exception. “Yes, your highness. Of course. I just wonder why you feel the need to see them right now when the Royal Family will be having dinner with our guests this evening. For which,” he added, “you should be preparing.”

“Oh, that.” Princess Yvonne stamped a foot. “Those dinners are silly. All of them will be on their best behavior, or stuffing their faces and not saying much. No, Basil, I want to see them as they really are, and know their names, where they’re from, and all before the dinner gathering that will probably put me to sleep.”

“I see. So what would you like me to do, your highness?”

“Tell me everything you know about each of them. Who is that huge one with the red beard? His ears and mouth are enormous!”

“That is Bulgar, the guardian of the Ogre Crystal. He is the Master Chieftain of all the ogre communities and has eight wives and fifty children.”

“Oh, my! How does he keep track of them all, I wonder? And he’s so tall – is he a giant?”

“Indeed. He is ten feet tall, in fact. All ogres are giants. They live in the mountainous region of the north highlands, an area called El’Gazon where it’s extremely cold.”

“Do they have cities like Nipos there?”

“Not exactly. They live in large communities of not less than a thousand families, each of which are ruled by lesser chieftains. Their houses are made of stone and wood.”

“Well, that makes sense, I suppose. I can’t imagine anyone looking like they do living in magnificent palaces. But how do they live? What do they do? Are they merchants, or maybe farmers?”

“Not at all. Their main source of livelihood is hunting wild beasts from the snowy mountains and selling the ones they don’t need for food.”

“Ah.” She gave a short laugh. “I certainly wouldn’t want to make one of them angry. I imagine they’re dangerous.”

“That they are, your highness. Ogres use giant iron mauls when fighting their enemies. Their strength is unparalleled. They can lift massive boulders and can carry huge logs like they’re twigs.”

“Amazing.” She fell silent for a few moments, but then said, “Who is the small man with the long beard? The one with the bright red jacket standing in the middle of the circle of other short fellows.”

“That is Prince Lotra, the guardian of the Dwarf Crystal. He is the eldest of three sons of King Dunapos and Queen Yatra, and heir to the throne of the Dwarf Kingdom.”

Princess Yvonne giggled. “Compared to the Ogres, the Dwarves look like dolls.”

“They are a small people, yes. I’d say about four feet at the tallest. I think you’d like them, actually. They have a good of sense of humor, and are optimistic, always looking at the positive side of every situation.”

“I think I like them already! What do they do?”

“Well, they’re good at inventing things like gunpowder, cannons, equipment for planting crops, and equipment for fishing.”

“Do they live in the mountains, too?”

“Oh, no. The opposite. The kingdom of the dwarves is in the lowlands of southern Meridia, a place called Adronia.” Where are those annoying elves? he wondered, suddenly growing fearful. What if they were injured on their journey? Or captured, or perhaps killed by the many lightning strikes?

“I’ve heard of Adronia,” the Princess said, pulling Sir Basil out of his dark thoughts. “They have a castle called the Palace of Atrium, I believe. Father was talking about it to one of his advisors one day – he didn’t know I was listening.”

“You heard right, your highness.” His glance flickered toward the door but it remained shut. “Uh, and as you probably know from your geography lessons, great stretches of the lowlands are fertile, especially the lower valleys where the four great rivers of Meridia intersect.”

“Yes. Boring. The land is good for planting crops, and so on and so on.”

“These are important things to know, your highness.” Sir Basil sounded stern but he was smiling. “Anyway, most of them are farmers and fisherman.”

“Thank you.” Again a momentary silence, but this time it ended with a gasp.

“What is it, your highness?”

“Who is that woman in the silver and blue gown?”

“That is Tundras.”

“She is beautiful! To what race does she belong? And do they all look like that?”

“That, my Princess, is a nymph. And yes, all nymphs are beautiful, but they are also skilled fighters. Tundras is the appointed guardian of the Nymph Crystal.”

“Is she a queen?”

Sir Basil chuckled. “No, not at all. Nymphs are ruled by the Council of Emetra and have no monarch.”

“How does that work?”

“Well, the Council consists of eight elders, and they appoint the one in each generation who they think is worthy to carry and guard the crystal. To help this guardian carry out her duty, she is endowed by the elders with the magic skills necessary to defend herself and to protect the crystal.”

“She can do magic? Really? What can she do?”

“From the palms of her hands, she can create anything in the form of water. Nymphs are all female water elementals, you see, who are born from the bosom of the ocean. They dwell in oceans, seas, rivers and lakes, and are the Guardians of all marine life.”

“They sound wonderful. Do they breathe under water?”

“I’m not entirely sure, but I do know that they can swim for miles and remain submerged for much longer than humans.” He smiled. “An interesting fact for you, Princess: the color of their skin changes to blue whenever they are near the oceans. Their main palace is The Aquanon, which is hidden inside a big waterfall.”

“Where is this waterfall?”

“That I couldn’t tell you. The Nymphs have always kept the Aquanon’s location secret – no one knows but them.”

“Fasci…oh, my! Speaking of beautiful, who is that man with all the muscles?”

Sir Basil shook his head – had the Princess grown up so much that she was noticing attractive members of the opposite sex already? “I take it you mean the fellow with no tunic, gauntlets, leather slacks, and high boots?”

“I do indeed, Basil. How grand he looks with that blue cape and huge sword!”

“Hm. Yes. That’s a two-handed broadsword, which should tell you he can be a dangerous person when provoked.”

“I imagine he is. Does he have a name, or should I think of him as Sir Muscles?”

Holding back a laugh, Sir Basil shook his head. “He has a name, your highness. That is Shakur, the guardian of the Enkanto Crystal, appointed by the five elders of the Sumanum Council of the Enkanto Kingdom.”

“So like the Nymphs, they don’t have a monarch, but only a council? Does that mean they’re also elementals?”

“Very good, your highness. That’s exactly what they are, but the Enkanto are associated with fire. Like the Nymphs, they have only one gender – male – and are born from the bosom of a volcano. Like Tundras, Shakur is endowed with magical skills given by the elders to protect both him and the crystal.”

“So… if the Nymphs’ skin changes to blue when they’re near the ocean, the Enkanto people must change to… to red when they are near fire?”

“How did you get so smart, your highness?”

“Oh, come now, Basil. It doesn’t take a god to figure out something like that. Where do they live?”

“In the volcanic regions to the west, a place called Ador. Their palace is called Vulcan.”

The sound of loud snorting interrupted the Captain’s explanations, and he turned toward it. A being who was unlike any other race present was pacing and shaking his head, looking more impatient than angry, but nonetheless potentially a problem.

“Who – or what – is that?” asked Princess Yvonne in a hushed tone.

“That, your highness, is Akiros.”

“Is he a Tikbalang? I’ve heard of them, but never saw one.”

“What did you hear?”

“That they were half horse and half human. I pictured them differently, though. I thought the back half would be all horse, while the upper half would be all human, but I was wrong.”

Sir Basil nodded. “Most people assume that.” He frowned as the grumpy-looking Akiros began snorting again. The Tikbalang’s arms, hands, and torso were in fact human, but its head, legs, and feet were those of a horse. He also had a horse’s tail which was currently swishing back and forth in what Basil could only interpret as agitation.

“Why is he covered with tattoos? They look especially odd with his gold earrings and necklace.”

“His tattoos are tribal signs of nobility, marking him as the guardian of the Tikbalang Crystal. I find it disturbing that he felt it necessary to bring along twelve others.”

“Why?”

“Of all the kingdoms of Meridia, the denizens of Lukrat are the most feared.”

“Wait. Lukrat? Is that where the Tikbalang live? Where is it?”

Sir Basil took a step forward, one hand gripping the hilt of his sword. He’d noticed Akiros turning to his knights and engaging them in a whispered discussion. That could mean trouble.

“What is it, Basil?”

“Nothing, I hope. The Tikbalang are well known for being hot tempered.” He shook his head. “Because they’re so skilled in all kinds of weapons and trained for survival, they’re called the noble warriors of Meridia. Unfortunately, it doesn’t take much to provoke them.”

The Princess extended a hand beyond the curtain and grasped Sir Basil’s arm as he retreated to his corner once more. “He wouldn’t dare start something here, Basil. Everyone is under my father’s protection and anyone who violates that will find the entire Nipos army at his throat. Now tell me more about the Tikbalang. Where is this Lukrat?”

Sir Basil made himself relax and return to his narrative. “Of course, your highness – you’re right. Well! Let me see. The Tikbalang dwell in the beautiful caves of the mountains southeast of Meridia. That is Lukrat. They hunt in those mountains and plant crops in the fertile land among the foothills.”

“You called him nobility. Is he their king? Does Akiros have a family?”

“He is, and rules with his wife Kimara. They have five children …..”

The door was suddenly pulled opened by the guards, and Sir Basil put up a hand. “I believe our final guardian has arrived, your highness. I’m afraid your lesson is over for today.” Without waiting for a response, he stepped away from the curtains and approached the door as two elves in travel-stained garb entered the room.