Starmarked
By
Brian Labore
Smashwords Edition
Copyright © 2012 by Brian Labore
All rights reserved.
All the characters in this book are fictitious, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
For Heather and Autumn
my guiding stars.
Table of Contents
Chapter One
The last rays of the evening sun set the distant thunderclouds ablaze with uncommon brilliance. Flashes of silent lightning pulsed through the dark cloud tops while the rumble of thunder was muffled by the crashing sea on the rocks below. The waters here were always rough, however, passing angrily through the forest of jagged stone spires that stabbed up along the coast. Forced through the rocks, the water churned and swirled without rest even on the calmest days but now, with the coming storm, the waves exploded with deafening fury.
Phelion stood, arms folded calmly behind him, atop the tallest of the spires. His rich clothes of midnight blue and purple flowed easily in the rushing wind and the silver, crescent-moon clasps of his tunic caught flashes of lightning so that he appeared regal even in the tossing winds.
He closed his eyes as the wind gusted around him and held out his arms to catch the sensation. On his left outstretched arm, from wrist to elbow, was an elaborate pattern of stars connected by winding markings; a constellation set in his flesh. This was no artificial mark but a part of him since his birth more than a century ago. He felt the rush of the storm and the narrow spire, barely wide enough for both his feet together, shook with each boom of thunder.
Another burst of violent wind grabbed at him and Phelion did not resist it. Eyes still serenely closed, he let the airstream carry him backward. The stone perch fell away from his feet and the wondrous markings blazed with a blue-white light that instantly surrounded him and held him suspended in the air. He hovered for another heartbeat before he opened his eyes again.
“Time to go.” He whispered to himself through a smile. One last look and he could see that the storm was all but on him now and soon it would not be the gusting winds of its leading edge that pushed him but the swirling gales of its heart.
In an instant Phelion shot upwards and glided effortlessly through the air, easily outpacing the storm as a blue-white trail dazzled behind him and the coastal spires and turbulent shores disappeared behind him as he headed inland. The land beneath was a tangle of rivers and streams that flowed from the nearby mountains. Phelion kept the widest of these riverways directly beneath him as he hurried ahead of the storm.
The broad river lead to a stonework dam and riverhouse that overlooked a long wooden pier lined with tiny fishing boats that had been gathered in for the night. The pier marked the westernmost border of Drifthaven, the small township that nestled itself in the riverbends.
As he passed overhead Phelion noticed several faint torches below, townsfolk hurriedly shutting their modest homes for the night as they prepared for the storm. His aura gleaming in the night, it was not long before he was spotted and a rush of cheers erupted from the town. Astonished faces peeked from windows and excited children ran outside to catch a glimpse of him. Phelion returned a cordial nod before speeding away.
East of the village, the rivers spilled into the great Silverdeep Lake, a sprawling waterway that filled the surrounding valley. Phelion flew over its wind-tossed waters until they broke against rocky and arid foothills. These foothills climbed into steep mountains like those that surrounded the Thunderspires, where Phelion had stood only minutes before.
One of these mountains towered over the others and its crest gleamed with a pure white light, a beacon in the darkening night. The welcoming glow widened Phelion’s smile and he sped on with a burst sparkling speed.
The glowing castle, Sidrial, rose from the mountain summit like a radiant crown. Dozens of towers supported by countless arches strained toward the heavens and in the center of it all rose a central column from which the rest of the castle radiated. Atop this huge tower was an immense telescope that stretched from a magnificent observatory.
“At long last the blessed night has come!” An excited voice hailed Phelion as he approached the castle. The man, awash in his own sparkling aura, flew alongside Phelion for a short time before darting back toward a clutch of towers below. “Congratulations!”
As Phelion passed through the rising towers, dozens of men and women surrounded in blue-white light came to greet him, all jubilant and cheering.
“Our prayers have been answered!”
“May the Stars bless Phelion and all the Starmarked!”
Phelion acknowledged and thanked them all before dashing onward, spiraling upward along the main tower until he found a wide balcony not far from the top.
“Welcome back, my Lord.” A smiling voice greeted him. “The time is drawing near now, she has been asking for you.”
“Did she think I would miss this?” Phelion laughed as his light retreated back into his markings and his feet once again touched down. “Tell me, Bol, how is my wife?”
“She is well! Her only worry is that your love of sunsets would prove more powerful that for her!”
Bol was a jovial man with a booming laugh that often filled even the busiest gathering halls. He was thick and heavy with a stone-hard belly and he bore the markings of his kin across both of his biceps which bulged from his sleeveless tunic.
“Almost,” Phelion chuckled, “Almost. But it was not only the sunset I watched but also the coming storm.” Phelion saw flashes of lighting in the distance.
Bol nodded. “This night does seem to have a temper. Truly it is a shame on this special occasion.”
“A thousand storms could not break my spirits tonight!” Phelion clapped his old friend on the back. “Now come, I am anxious to see my wife!”
Together, the friends entered the main tower. The ornate chambers were lined with pillars and tapestries, all adorned in fancy decoration honoring the night sky. The two men passed on through long hallways and wide rooms lined with doorways and floorways, stairless passages that dropped through the floors and lead to separate levels of the tower.
“What is this?” Phelion said as they came to an arched door flanked by two armored men. “Guards?”
“I am afraid it is tradition, my Lord.” Bol grinned. “The council insisted.” Bol waved his hand and the two guards stood more at ease.
“I cannot remember the last time we’ve followed such traditions.” Phelion chuckled.
“It has been a long time.” Bol said as his smile faded slightly.
“Indeed it has,” Phelion said thoughtfully, seeing the wistful look behind his friend's eyes. “Let us hope that those traditions are commonplace again.” Bol’s face brightened and together they stepped through the door.
A dozen women gathered around a large bed, all busily preparing blankets, pillows, and other such things so that none of them noticed the men enter.
“So my husband has decided to make an appearance after all.” A sweet voice chided from behind the wall of motion. “My nurses were sure you had forgotten.” All at once the nurses turned in time to see Phelion’s embarrassed blush. Giggling, the women each found some excuse to busy themselves in other areas of the room revealing Phelion’s very beautiful and very pregnant wife.
Phelion gently kissed his wife on the forehead and took her hand, sitting down beside her.
“You see, Tarra, I told you he would be back in time.” Bol said. “If not, he would have me to answer to!”
Tarra laughed and sat up in her cloud of pillows. Her long hair fell loosely around her neck, revealing her own star-markings laced delicately over her shoulders like folded wings. “If he had not arrived soon I would have flown out and dragged him back here myself!”
“I don’t doubt you would!” Bol said as he slapped Phelion on the back so hard he nearly knocked him off the bed.
“I am afraid that none of us will be leaving the castle tonight.” Phelion said. “The storm will be here soon and I’ve never seen its like before.” A sudden flash of lightning emphisized his point.
“Out of the way, out of the way! Can’t you all find something better to do than fluff pillows?” A tiny old woman burst through the chamber door carrying a pitcher of cool water. “Let me through!”
“Mato!” Phelion did not hide his pleasure at the sight of the woman, the high Channelae of his people, the master healer. “So tell me, how much longer must I wait for my new family? Surely so many nurses can hurry this along!”
“I see our Lord has seen fit to end his nightly stroll and grace us with his presence.” Mato said as she handed Tarra a glass of water. “Don’t worry, my nurses and I have everything under control, you go on gallivanting without a concern for any of us.”
More smiles and chuckles came at these remarks but when Mato set the pitcher aside a tentative quiet came upon the room. Blue-white energy pulsed from the patterns that ran along her hands and she gently rested them on Tarra’s expectant belly. The room was stonely silent for a few heartbeats before the old Channelae spoke.
“It seems that your sight-seeing husband has returned none too soon.” She said in a warm and gentle voice. “Their hearts beat strong and healthy. It won’t be long now.”
“Twins!” Bol erupted. “I still can’t believe it! Can you imagine? Never before have our people been blessed in such a way! And to our Lord and Lady…” His voice trailed as he tried to grasp what it might mean.
“Speechless?” The glow faded from Mato’s fingertips and she nestled a soft blanket around Tarra. “Surely I never thought I would see the day when Bol could not find words.” Bol went red as the room laughed with good-humor.
“Alright, the pair of you,” Mato said after she was satisfied with the work of her nurses, “We still have much to prepare and we can’t have you getting in the way. Out, out, out!”
“Oof! Well then -OW—I guess I will leave you –Ouch—to rest a bit!” Bol quickly disappeared out of the door, the giant man pushed to submission by the tiny woman.
“Now, then,” Mato darted back into the room. “You too, out!” She pointed to Phelion with a crinkled finger. “You have seen her now and know all is well. She is in capable hands and we will send for you when the time is right.”
“It seems that our good nurse is hinting that I should let you get some rest.” Phelion laughed. “Rest well my love.” Phelion kissed her and reluctantly made his own way to the door.
“I am sure I will.” Tarra blew him a smiling kiss, “Our good Channelae will give me little choice in the matter.”
“We will take good care of her and the twins.” Mato whispered to Phelion as she ushered him from the room. “You have my word.”
Phelion leaned in and kissed the old woman on the forehead. “There is no one better.” He said as she closed the door.
As Phelion turned from the bedchamber, the guards snapped to attention sending him jumping with a start.
“Traditions, remember?” Bol chuckled.
“Traditions.” Phelion sighed. He nodded to each of the guards and they understood that they were dismissed.
Bol slumped into a soft sofa in the nearby sitting room, rubbing his sides that still stung from Mato’s jabs.
Phelion paced the floor. He tried to sit several times but could not manage to rest for more than a few moments before he was up again. Before long he had tried nearly every chair or sofa in the room.
Bol could take his restlessness no longer. “Settle yourself before I am forced to settle you! I am excited as well but there is nothing for it now but to wait.”
“I know, I know.” Phelion threw himself onto a sofa and sank deep into the pillows. “But I still cannot believe it. Twins! Never had I dreamed…”
“Never had any of us dreamed, Lord.” Bol sat up, his customary smile replaced with a more somber expression. “This is exciting news for all the Starmarked. It has been far too long since a child was born into our shining castle; it is true that there was talk that we were the last of our kind, that we may soon fade like dying candles.”
“I have heard the talk.” Phelion said. “Even in the great tower some were beginning to doubt our future. I must admit that I had thoughts that I may be reigning over the end of our kind.”
“That is all behind us now.” Bol sat back comfortably. “Surely all doubts have disappeared.”
“Sire!” Phelion and Bol jumped to their feet at the sudden intrusion. Six ornately robed men raced into the room. “Sire, we must have a word!” The foremost of the men struggled to collect himself as his rich layered robes and largely ceremonial headwear jingled in the ruckus.
“Calm yourself, Vannat, calm yourself.” Phelion threw up his hands and the mass of robes fluttered to a halt.
“Lord, Phelion.” Vannat said as he spent a few frustrating moments adjusting his hat. “I must, once again, implore you to allow my fellow Prophecers and I into the night sky to observe the Birth Stars of the children.” Behind him the other learned men held up bundles of parchments and instruments. “Without witnessing the Birth Stars we cannot hope to predict—”
“It is too dangerous.” Phelion said flatly before the Prophecer could finish. “This is an angry storm and even the sparkling aura of a Starmarked Prophecer will offer no protection from its wrath. Only the power of the castle can protect us tonight.”
“Lord, I… We implore you to reconsider. There is but one chance to see the Birth Stars and they will fade quickly. Only at the moment of the children’s arrival will their stars outshine all others in the night sky and only for the briefest of moments. My Prophecers and I must observe those stars and their relation to the heavens around them.” The counselors murmured excitedly in agreement, pointing to the rustling pages and adjusting their shining devices.
“Don’t you think he knows that, you dullsparks.” Bol shouted, his large voice shrinking five of the whispering Prophecers into silence. Vannat alone stood his ground. “Don’t you think Phelion wishes to see that display? To think he would want to miss the Birth Stars of his own children, that’s dimthink!”
“I am merely suggesting that our Lord may not realize the importance of those stars for our calculations.” Vannat snapped back. “Never before have Prophecers failed to observe the Birth Stars of a Starmarked child.”
Before Bol could answer the storm snarled with vicious thunder that shook the walls around them.
“Vannat, Bol, peace.” Phelion stepped between the two men. “This is no day for harsh words.” He placed a calm hand on Bol’s fuming shoulder and the large man swallowed any harsh response that growled in his throat. Phelion then turned to the agitated Prophecers.
“My trusted advisors and friends, none has a greater desire to see the sky alight with the Birth Stars of my children more than me, I can assure you.” Vannat motioned to speak while rustling frantically through a series of tattered pages but before he could utter a sound Phelion continued. “I also know that the occasion has been observed and celebrated for as long as we can remember and that the Prophecers have marked the event with sacred tools of astronomy for each child throughout our history.”
“Never once have the Prophecers missed the occasion!” Vannat blurted, the words coming like a rush of water from a bursting dam. “From the time of our ancestors until the last child came so long ago, a Prophecer has read the stars!”
“And the Starmarked owe the order of Prophecers a great deal.” Phelion’s calm voice stemmed the flood of Vannat’s words. “But this storm is like none other before it, with winds that could rip the light form the moon and thunder that can shake the sky loose. I cannot risk losing any of my people just as the hope for our continued future is rekindled.”
Vannat’s mouth fell wide but no sound came. His eyes darted from the loose pages to Phelion and back again, all the while mouthing attempts to speak but managing, at last, only a quiet squeak.
“There will be plenty of time for prophecy and study, my friend. The markings they bear will show us easily which stars guide them, you and your Prophecers will have much to scrutinize.”
“But, my Lord, the flash of the stars’ light appears for only the briefest of time. We cannot miss it, not on a day of such importance!” Vannat’s entourage slumped into their crinkled pages but Vannat was not so easily dissuaged and pressed again, his tone noticeably changing from an outraged demand to a desperate whimper.
“You know as well as I that their stars will flash brightly twice more. Three times in the life of a Starmarked man or woman their stars outshine the rest. The first is at birth when the child is welcomed into the world. The second is that blessed night of Ascension, that night when the child is touched by the power of those stars. The last, and by the will of the Stars it will be a long while before we see the event, is during the funeral ceremony at death.”
“The day of Ascension…” Vannat’s eyes shot wide and he spun to see his fellow Prophecers in a similar state of epiphany. “Yes…yes, the day of Ascension.” He repeated. “There is much to prepare!” The crowd of men erupted again with renewed excitement. Together they rushed from the room, the last of the men pausing to quickly bow before running to join his colleagues.
“A fine and well reasoned speech, my Lord.” Bol said once they were gone. “It is best to be patient. The day of Ascension will be here soon enough, the years will pass quickly, I am sure.”
“I am sure.” Phelion said.
“Surely there cannot be any other Starmarked as foolish as the Prophecers who would think to risk such a deadly storm to simply catch a glimpse of the children’s Birth Stars.” Bol listened as another long roll of thunder growled passed the tower.
“Perhaps there is one.” Phelion chuckled.
“Or two.” Bol joined in the laugh.
The heart of the drenching storm had arrived with explosions of thunder and lightning but, howl as it may, the pounding gales could not penetrate the protective aura of the glowing castle. Phelion and Bol waited, listening to the deluge.
After a time Bol leaned over and reached for a crystal bottle filled with a sweet smelling brew and filled two goblets, handing one to Phelion. “Here is to the end of the end. To the unbroken Starmarked line, may it last as long as the Stars themselves.”
“To the unbroken line.” Phelion raised his glass and took a generous taste of the drink.
Bol was already reaching for the bottle before Phelion had finished his first sip and as he leaned forward to offer Phelion a refill the door to the bed chamber burst open.
“My Lord!” A single young nurse raced from the room and hastily bowed. She was trembling, her slender face wore a purely stunned expression. “My Lord, the twins….they…I…” She struggled to put words to her blur of thoughts.
Phelion’s markings blazed with light and in a flash he was in the bedchamber. “What is it? What’s wrong?” He shouted as his aura burned around him and he quickly surveyed the room like a general in the heart of battle. “Where are my children?”
“Shush!” Tarra scolded through a whisper. “Quiet yourself, they need their rest.”
Slowly Phelion’s aura began to fade as he looked around. The younger nurses were all gathered around the bed, their eyes fixed on the two small bundles that rested in Tarra’s arms while Mato sat beside her with a proud smile and gently wiped her brow with a damp cloth.
“Isn’t it wonderful?” The nurse who had rushed to meet him appeared at the doorway. She smiled wildly and rushed back into the room to join the others.
“Are you just going to stand there?” Tarra said softly. “Come meet your new son and daughter.”
The crowd of nurses parted like a curtain, clearing a path for Phelion. The sight of Tarra’s tired smile and the two warmly wrapped bundles resting in her arms replaced alarm with boundless joy. He sat gently beside his wife and she carefully handed him the twins.
The Lord of the Starmarked beamed with pride as he held his children; a boy and a girl. He marveled at how tiny they were, all but weightless in his strong hands. He brushed aside the blankets to get a first look at their faces but as he looked upon them for the first time his eyes widened and his jaw dropped with even more astonishment. Tarra smiled knowingly but did not say a word; she simply closed her eyes and contentedly leaned back into her nest of pillows.
An even prouder smile grew from Phelion’s surprise. Unlike any other Starmarked; who bore a constellation of stars on their arms, shoulders, or hands; the newborns each wore a single star that shimmered on their faces. His son bore his mark just under his right eye and his daughter’s lay just under her left.
“What does it mean?” Bol broke the silence as he leaned over the crowd with a similar astounded expression still holding the bottle and his empty goblet. He had arrived unnoticed and asked the question that everyone had been thinking. Once asked, however, all eyes drifted to old Mato who still dutifully attended to the exhausted Tarra.
Mato’s fingertips glowed brightly again and she gently passed her hands over the children. “The children are strong and healthy.” She said brightly. “In all my nearly three hundred years I have never sensed such strength. I cannot speak to what their unique markings mean but I have never loved anything more than the smile of a newborn babe and it had been far too long since I saw my last. These children are a blessing from the Stars.”
“Welcome, Aten, little prince of the Starmarked.” Phelion whispered to his son.
“And welcome little Aleral, my beautiful princess.” Tarra said softly.
“Aten and Aleral!” Bol cheered. “Let their names be on the lips of all in the castle! Truly this is a glorious night for the Starmarked!”
Phelion held his children closer as the room cheered. The rumbles of thunder trailed into the distance as the horrible storm began to blow itself out and the skies had already begun to clear. “A blessing from the Stars…”
Chapter Two
The silence of the dim corridor was broken by the soft ‘click’ of a doorlatch. After a pause the heavy door swung open and two sets of tiny eyes peeked into the hall.
Confident the corridor was empty; Aten and Aleral dashed forward and with well-rehearsed precision they carefully placed their footsteps, crossing creaky floorboards and shifting carpets without a sound.
Aten took the lead as they rushed toward the large door at the end of the hall and with a perfectly timed roll he tumbled along the last few paces until he came up on his hands and knees under the latch.
Aleral moved just as nimbly and, using her brother as a step, leapt upward and caught onto the door handle. She quickly shuffled her tiny hands over the latch and let her weight pull the mechanism down.
‘Click.’
The second doorlatch released and Aten rolled sideways, pressing his ear to the door. A few excited heartbeats passed with no sound and he looked up to his dangling sister who shared his wide grin.
Aten grabbed his sister’s feet and used her to pull the heavy door open and the pair continued on through the chambers trying to be as silent as shadows. Working together, they moved silently and quickly until they found themselves in a fancy sitting room across from an ornate door.
The sitting room was brightly lit by morning sunlight that fell softly through high, unseen windows. Seeing that the room was empty, Aten and Aleral shot forward, scampering over the soft sofas so that the thick padding muffled their footfalls. They bounded off the cushions, somersaulting forward and came up precisely beside the door on the far side of the chamber.
Once in position, they both froze and held their breaths, listening intently. All was silent. Assured they had not been detected, they shared a hushed celebration.
The moment of congratulation passed quickly, however, and Aten and Aleral both took long breaths to steady themselves. In one motion Aten pulled back and the door swung open. Quickly, he and his sister lunged through the narrow gap before it shut tight again.
Eyes closed, Aten lay flat against the wall just inside the door and Aleral pressed herself into the floor. After a few moments, Aten peeped open one eye and scanned the dim room. His smile flashed wide and he tapped his sister with his foot. She opened her eyes just as cautiously and her smile grew just as wide at the realization of they remained unnoticed.
Aten rolled to the left, Aleral to the right and they noiselessly dashed around the room until they both crouched on opposite sides of their parents' bed.
The twins looked at one another from across the bed and reveled in their achievement, the stars on their faces flickering playfully. They pressed their hands over their mouths and held back bursting giggles for another moment to bask in their success. Unable to bear the excitement any longer, they pounced.
“It is today!” They shouted as they jumped onto the bed.
Phelion and Tarra tossed through a tangle of blankets and pillows like fresh fish in a net. After a few confused moments and a startled shout or two, they joined in the laughter of their children. “Alright, alright, we’re awake.” Phelion said, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.
“The sun is up! The sun is up!” Aten said with his arms outstretched as if in flight.
“That means it is today!” Aleral skipped across the bed, flipping herself forward.
“It is today.” Tarra yawned and pulled the cord that slid the heavy curtains apart, flooding the room with bright morning sun. “If only just barely.”
“Happy birthday.” Phelion said as he snatched up the rambunctious Aten and tickled him through shrieks of laughter.
“And happy birthday to you, princess.” Tarra caught her daughter and snuzzled her as she writhed and giggled.
The twins squirmed their way from their parents’ arms and paraded around. “It is today!” They sang over and over again.
It was a special day and despite the early hour Phelion and Tarra were just as excited as the children. It was not just another birthday, today the twins would visit the Great Observatory for the first time.
“Well then.” Tarra yawned. “I suppose we should get ready. Now that we’re awake, we best make use of the day.”
The twins exploded with excitement and in an instant they sprung from the bed and ran in circles around their parents in mock flight.
It did not take long for the elated children or the groggy parents to dress and soon they met on the balcony.
“I bet we can see the whole castle.”
“I bet we can see the whole valley!”
“I bet we can see the whole world!”
“The Eye of Sidrial can see many things, in this world and beyond.” Phelion said with an air of mystery that made the twins' eyes and markings sparkle even more.
Phelion and Tarra took their children’s hands and felt them trembling with excitement. “Are we ready?” Tarra asked, unable to hide her own eagerness.
Phelion and Tarra’s markings glowed brightly and the blue-white light washed over them. The twins held their breaths as the light danced from their parents’ hands and surrounded them as well and the stone balcony fell effortlessly away.
The cool morning breeze all around them, they glided upward and the castle spread out beneath them. The Lords of the Starmarked circled the main tower, enjoying the wide-eyed wonder of their children. They climbed higher and higher until they soared over the Great Observatory.
Shining like a jewel, the glass and silver dome resembled a miniature night sky. From the center of the dome stretched the enormous Eye of Sidrial with its unfaltering gaze set on the heavens. Surrounding the massive lens were countless smaller telescopes that wound through an intricate network along its length. It was a mazework of masterfully crafted metal with every cog, switch, and surface etched with elaborate decoration.
Phelion and Tarra glided to one of the balconies of the Great Observatory and the twins felt their weight return to them as their parents’ light retreated to their markings.
The immense door before them was entwined with golden filigree and spirals. Within the design sat a series of gears and cogs that ticked slowly, hinting at the more intricate mechanism inside. Phelion and Tarra swept out their hands and their markings pulsed. At the same time the filigree patterns raced with light and the door echoed with ratcheting clicks and clacks. Punctuated at last by the singular clank of a large hidden bolt, the door slowly began to swing open.
“Welcome to the Great Observatory.” Phelion said proudly. “Through the glass of this dome you look upon the same sky of all who came before you and all who shall follow you. In this hall the stars teach us the secrets of the heavens.”
Along each wall whirred a complex of gears and ticking levers that moved countless devices tracking the night sky like a well-maintained clock. Rows and rows of shelves filled with books and scrolls were surrounded by elaborate mosaics showing portraits of past Starmarked heroes. Along one entire wall stretched another mosaic, a towering map made entirely of colorful stone and gems.
In the center of the room the enormous telescope, the Eye of Sidrial, stretched through the crystal ceiling. Resting on a carriage of brass that rode on a series of gears, the great telescope moved smoothly and delicately along well-oiled bearings that left no angle of the sky unseen.
Aten and Aleral watched the mechanical night sky ticking around them. They imagined it would take a lifetime to explore every corner and study every page.
“Well?” Tarra said as she knelt between the awestruck twins. “What are you waiting for? ”
Without another word they both raced into the chamber.
“I didn't think there were this many books in the whole world!” Aleral ran up and down the shelves. She grabbed a particularly thick book and flipped through the pages filled with intricate illustrations. “It would take a lifetime to read them all!”
“Some of these volumes are said to be as old as Sidrial itself.” Tarra said as she opened a small scroll. “I don't think anyone has ever read every single one.”
Aleral filled her arms with heavy books so that it seemed her tiny legs might buckle under a crush of pages. “I will!” She said, wobbling over to a nearby desk. “Bol tells the most wonderful stories of ancient battles and heroes and I've heard Master Prophecer Vannat and High Channelae Mato speak the great scholars and healers of our ancestors.” Aleral said without stopping for a breath. “You'll see, one day they will write about me!”
Tarra smiled and leaned against the bookshelf. Her little princess dove into the books and flipped, eyes wide, through page after page. “I don't doubt they will.”
“I see something!” Aten shouted as he hung precariously form the grand telescope, his body impossibly contorted around whatever gear or dial that could hold him.
Phelion shook his head as he untangled his son and looked through the lens. After adjusting several knobs and levers, he brought the vision into focus. “A great discovery indeed.” He chuckled. “Those are the Thunderspires, the rock cliffs that churn the sea on the other side of Issale.”
Aten scrambled up to the eye-piece again, anxious to make more discoveries. He manipulated more wheels and handles and before long he was already mastering the controls. Swinging, dangling, and all but crawling over the telescope the young boy was soon easily tracking small birds as they darted across the sky as if he had spent a lifetime operating the device.
“There is so much to see!” Aten turned the gears, bringing distant rivers, mountains, and forests into focus. “Have you been to all these amazing places?”
Phelion chuckled. “My son, when the night comes you will see that exploring the Stars through the Eye of Sidrial is more of an adventure than any you will find down there.”
As his father spoke, Aten was already scanning the land for more incredible sights that he longed to explore.
“I want to see! I want to see!” Aleral ran up behind her brother, her curiosity for the grand telescope finally winning out over the trove of books. Aten was keen to share his discoveries and in a short time he had shown her the workings of the many levers and dials.
“The ocean goes on forever!” Aleral squeaked as she held her gaze to the eye-piece while her brother operated the controls. “Even the Eye of Sidrial cannot see its end!”
“Some say it is as limitless as the sky.” Said Phelion.
The twins continued to explore, gasping at the incredible sights. Having never been outside the castle walls, every distant sight was filled with wonder. They followed flocks of birds that swooped over the western forests, marveled at the countless waterfalls that raced into the valley, and even found the tiny town of Drifthaven curious and exciting.
All at once, however, their playful laughter stopped and confused looks replaced smiles. Aten turned the dials to focus and Aleral moved the levers but the confusion only grew.
“The sky to the south…” Aten said, his eye fixed on the lens. “it disappeared!”
Phelion and Tarra traded grave looks. “That sky has not disappeared,” Phelion said, “it has been erased.”
The twins released the controls. “Erased?”
“Corrupted is more like it.” Tarra said. “Burned to nothing by the wicked warlord, Krellen.”
Phelion could see the curious looks on the faces of his children. “It is time you knew the full legacy of your people.”
“The island valley of Issale,” he said as his markings pulsed with light and the magnificent mosaic map glimmered brightly.
Aten and Aleral stepped closer. Issale was an immense island surrounded on all sides by high mountains. A miniature Sidrial glimmered in the northeastern mountains and they noticed the sprawling Silverdeep lake and the many rivers that criss-crossed the northern part of Issale. Tiny Dirfthaven nestled itself among the waterways and further east a lush forest sprang up along the rivers. On the western edge, the Thunderspires showed the only break in the continuous mountain wall that surrounded Issale and the only channel to the open ocean.
The southern half of Issale told a different story. Here the twins were puzzled as the map seemed wholly blank except for a single black tower etched in the middle of the mosaic wasteland. The vast nothingness sprawled out, separated from the north by a wide, winding river bordered by an enormous wall.
“A long time ago, long before the Starmarked came to these shores, the land of Issale was home to a vengeful warlord who ruled his corrupted kingdom from his dark citadel.” Tarra said as a deep violet glow pulsed around the miniature black tower. “Greedy and cruel, the master of the waste enslaved the powerless humans who lived for generations serving his every pitiless whim.”
“Broken and weak, the humans were withering and helpless.” Phelion continued. “They knew only fear and pain as they toiled in burning caverns to feed the machine of war. It is said that the conqueror was not content with Issale but set his burning eye on worlds beyond the horizons.”
Aten and Aleral gasped at the story.
“Knowing their master’s hunger for power would never be satisfied and that it would be on their breaking bones that he would build his empire, the ill-fated humans called to the heavens for help.”
“Their prayers were answered.”
“On the eve of the warlord’s sinister campaign, the sky blazed with fire and the ground shook.” Tarra said with a proud smile. “From the night sky came the first of the Starmarked, sent from the heavens to protect the humans and drive the warlord back.”
“Though he was powerful and many hard battles were fought against his seemingly limitless hordes he was driven back, his own island empire divided and his slaves freed. With the help of the Starmarked, the humans took homes and healed the land above the river that divides this country.” The words ‘Evercourse River’ glowed over the wide river in the center of the map. “In the south, the seat of his dark power, the warlord was driven back to his pit.”
“Over the centuries his legacy of hate has been passed from one descendant to the next, all building dark armies in hopes of completing the ancient conquest. Krellen is the latest of the bloodline to sit on the Throne of Shifting Sands.”
“With the help of the humans, the immense border wall, Everkeep , was built to help guard the north. Even now several humans keep watch over the wasteland, ready to sound the enormous warning horns at the sight of the dark hordes and call our people to action once again.”
“And above it all, Sidrial, the castle of light, was built so that we might watch over those we are charged by the Stars to protect. Sidrial, our home destined by the heavens.”
“We shall be ready to defeat him when he comes. That is our legacy, to honor the Stars and protect the defenseless. That is your legacy.” Phelion said, putting his hands proudly on the shoulders of his captivated children, Aten and Aleral's single-star markings glowing brightly in their awed silence. “That is what it means to be Starmarked.”
Chapter Three
Several prophecers huddled around the Eye of Sidrial, busily filling page after page with complex diagrams and observations. Several others filed through the endless bookshelves, arms filled with scrolls and dusty tomes. An assembly of channelae also carefully studied ancient texts, searching for lost secrets of healing. In all, the Grand Observatory bustled with activity.
“Well done, princess!” Vannat said as he looked over Aleral's calculations. “Even some of my most experienced colleagues are baffled by the Constellation of Crossed Swords.”
“The Crossed Swords is not all that different from the Constellation of the Night Stallion, and I read all about that weeks ago.” Aleral said, barely looking up from her books. “Did you know that the stars of the Night Stallion can foretell good fortune?”
“I did, indeed.” Vannat said with an impressed smile.
Aten flipped through the pages of another dusty book but his eyes were fixed on the crowded telescope. “How much longer are they going to keep it to themselves?” He asked impatiently. “Don't they know there are others who would like to explore?”
“Pay attention to your studies now, my prince.” The prophecers are not exploring but doing important work. The search for the Star that guides you eludes us even after all these years. There will be time enough to 'explore' in future lessons.”
Aten reluctantly returned to his diagrams of constellations. “Yes, Master Prophecer.” he grumbled. Vannat watched as the boy distractedly drew the motions of yet another complicated constellation. His ability with the equations seemed second only to Aleral.
“Won't it be wonderful when we discover our guiding Star?” Aleral said. “Just think what secrets we will learn of our destinies.”
“Oh, yes.” Vannat said. “Every one of the Starmarked owes a great deal to their guiding stars. They bestow wisdom, strength, and tell us a great deal about what fate awaits us.”
“And what adventures we will have?” Aten asked suddenly enthusiastic.
“Perhaps.” Vannat said with a smile.
“Your adventures will have to wait until after your night of Ascension.” Mato said as she hovered over to the group.
“Mato!” The twins jumped from their chairs and rushed to greet the ancient Starmarked Channelae.
The old nurse placed a tray of refreshments on their desk. “I thought you could use a break, you have been studying almost the entire night without rest. As your nurse I order you to eat something.”
“You had better do as she says,” said Vannat. “She'll forbid us from coming to the observatory for a month if we don't listen.”
The twins didn't need much convincing and had already stuffed themselves with several biscuits. Mato's special treats were always a welcome distraction from their studies and in no time the plate was all but crumbs.
“Mato, what did you mean we will have to wait until after the night of Ascension?” Aten asked.
“Those adventures you speak of, they'll have to wait until after the Ascension ceremony when you and your sister come of age.” answered Mato. “Until you control the power of the Startouch, your place is here, within the towers of Sidrial, where you are safe.”
“Ah yes, the night of your Ascension. We all look forward to it with great anticipation.” Vannat added. “It has been far too long since the last ceremony.”
Aleral was captivated at the mention of the ceremony. “I've read a bit about it but there is not much written of the Ascension ceremony in any of these books. What is it exactly? What will happen?”
Vannat's eyes lit up at the question, the master prophecer welcomed the opportunity to speak of matters of ceremony. “It is a rite as old as our people and passed from generation to generation with time-honored ritual, you won't find it described in any book or scroll. When a Starmarked child comes of age they are ready to receive the Startouch.”
“On that night, each of you will give a spark of your light to those that have come before you. In return you both shall receive a gift of the shared light of the Starmarked. It is when you take this light into your own that your Star will grant you the Startouch, the power of our people.”
“And then we can fly?” Aten asked eagerly.
Mato chuckled her wheezing chuckle, “You'll do so much more than fly. With the power of the Stars you can truly learn the ways of the Channelae or Prophecers. In time you will even learn to master the Seorsar arts.”
“The Seorsar? You mean the fighting arts of the Starmarked Sky-Knights?” Aten asked eagerly.
Vannat knew better than to be impressed with his knowledge of the Seorsar. “Yes indeed. Every Starmarked man and woman learns the Seorsar in some way as it is every Starmarked's duty to protect the northern lands from Krellen and his hordes. Even Mato can be a formidable knight when the call to battle comes.”
“Remember that the next time you think about skipping a meal.” Mato wagged her bony finger at the twins.
“Imagine, being able to fly through the air without having to be carried by mother, father, or anyone else. To be able to hear the song of the Stars like the prophecers or convey their power like the channelae. It sounds like a dream.” Aleral said.
“The time before your Ascension is time for study” Vannat said, cracking a heavy stack of books onto the desk. “There is so much to learn before your Ascension. You must be patient.”
Aleral plunged eagerly back into her studies, gobbling up the books in front of her but Aten was less eager. He pushed at the scrolls as if they were some bland food, his gaze drifting over ot the Eye of Sidrial as inconspicuously as he could manage. The clicking dials and whirling gears entrancing him, he wished there was some way he could just glimpse that worlds that filled its lens, up close, even for a moment.
‘BA WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOT’
The resounding of a distant horn resonated through the observatory, silencing everyone.
“What was that?” asked Aleral, astonished.
‘BA WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOT’
“The Sentry Horns.” Vannat rushed to the Eye of Sidrial and shooed the prophecers aside. Within a few moments he maneuvered the telescope to the south.
“The Sentry Horns?” The twins gasped.
‘BA WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEET’
A second horn blew.
Vannat watched as several warning fires flared along the Everkeep wall.
‘HA HOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOT’
A third horn joined the bellowing chorus.
Vannat looked up from his eyepiece and signaled the prophecers. In an instant markings glowed and auras flared. Mato, making a similar gesture had every channelae surrounded in their light as well. Without a word they flew from the observatory leaving the twins alone with the master prophecer and their old nurse.
Vannat turned to the twins. “It looks like our lessons are over for tonight.”
Chapter Four
In the short time it had taken Vannat and Mato to return the twins to their tower home, they found Phelion already preparing to fulfill his duty.
“Father!” Aten and Aleral sprinted toward Phelion who finished lashing the straps on his armor. “Are you going to fight?”
Phelion caught up his excited children but addressed the scholar and nurse directly. “Vannat, Mato, thank you for seeing the prince and princess home. Please, go to the main platform and tell the others, we fly to Everkeep soon.”
“Yes, my lord.”
“Take us with you!” Aleral pleaded, “We can fight too!”
“I am sure you can.” Phelion smiled as he fastened his helmet. “But not this time.”
“We need someone to stay behind to protect Sidrial.” Tarra said as she floated in beside them, adorned in her own armor. “One day you will be called upon to join the battle but now your duties are here.”
“But we’ve almost come of age!” Aten protested. “We can’t stay in the walls of Sidrial forever.”
“And I’ve read so much about the Seorsar arts of battle strategy.” Aleral said boastfully. “I can help drive the horde back.”
“I am sure you would, little princess.” Phelion smiled. “And, young prince, until your Ascension you are no more able to defend yourself than the frail humans we are sworn to protect. Your place is here to look after the castle and our people who remain behind.”
“With a little help from an old friend!” A smiling voice boomed from behind them all.
“Bol!” The twins shouted together and pounced on him as he flew in.
“Hello little stardrops!”
Phelion happily greeted his friend. “It seems that this is one battle we will have to fight without the mighty Bol by our side.”
“Just be sure to leave a few for next time.” Bol laughed.
“It seems Krellen has been busy in his pit, three horns sound this alarm. He has not sent an army of this size in quite some time.” Phelion said.
As they spoke, another figure appeared at the balcony. Adorned in his own silver-glistening armor, the man hovered into the chamber and knelt to Phelion and Tarra before standing at military attention.
“Welcome Rija.” Tarra stepped forward and greeted the master of martial training and councilor on all things military. “What is your report?”
“Highnesses, forty-eight Starmarked have gathered to answer the call. They await your arrival on the main platform.” Rija reported dutifully.
“Excellent.” Phelion said. “We must be off.”
“Thank you, Bol, for watching the twins while we are away.” Tarra gave him a kiss on the cheek. “I know they are in good hands with you.”
“Try not to get into too much trouble.” Phelion winked as he and Tarra summoned their aura-flame and headed to meet the waiting Seorsar knights.
“Trouble? I wouldn’t dream of it!” Bol scoffed.
Aten and Aleral watched their parents as they flew off in a sparkling wake. “Hurry back! Tell us everything!”
The twins hung over the edge of the balcony railing, watching their parents join the Seorsar until the very last glimpse of their auras disappeared behind the towers.
“Well, come on then.” Bol clapped his hands as the Lord and Lady disappeared from sight. “We had better be off!”
The twins looked at one another, baffled. “Off?” Aleral crinkled her face. “Off to where?”
“To watch the battle of course!” Bol said as if the answer had been plainly obvious. “You didn’t think we were just going to sit here and miss all the action, did you?”
The twins eyes popped wide. “Really? Thank you, thank you, thank you!”
“Alright, alright!” Bol wriggled free from their admiration. “We don’t have much time, we must leave now if we don't want to be spotted.”
“Won’t mother and father be angry?” Aleral asked with a fleeting twinge of guilt.
Bol waved his hand dismissively. “I remember when your father and I snuck down to the wall to see our first battle with Mato. We were not much older than you.”
“Mato?” They could not believe the strict old woman would allow such a thing.
“The same.” Bol smiled. “Now, are you ready?”
They nodded eagerly.
Bol’s aura surrounded them all. “Hold on tight.”
Bol did not leave through the wide balcony, instead heading into the center of the tower. Flying down through a few floorways, he and the twins dashed out a less conspicuous exit.
Once outside, Bol circled closely along the towers and then burst out into the mountain cliffs. Flying low, the twins felt as if they could trace their fingertips along the terrain. When Sidrial faded in the distance, Bol swooped skyward and the twins watched the landscape blur past.
When Bol leveled out over the treeline, the twins gasped. Everkeep sprawled out in the distance as columns of black smoke burned into the air.
Huge boulders smashed into the stalwart wall and exploded into showers of rubble. Fireballs and enormous spears crashed into watchtowers so that the blare of the Sentry Horns was muted by the furor.
Bol circled low behind the wall, tracking the contour of the structure, and doused his light just as they landed atop a watchtower far from the main assault. “We should have a fine view from here.”
Despite their distance from the attack, the relentless volley shook the wall around them.
“Look!” Aleral pointed over the wall.
Along the opposite bank of the river, as far as he could see, the dark horde clawed and roared with flashing weapons of steel and fire. Beasts, some as tall as trees, others clattering with bony claws, all snarled and gnashed as they thundered toward the wall. Unspeakable machines of war launched an endless barrage while terrible wardrums pounded the air.
‘Cha-DOOM, Cha-DOOM, Cha-DOOM!’
Aten trembled at the sight of the gruesome legion. “Bol? Mother and Father, will they be alright?”
Bol leaned on the rampart casually. “Look there.”
High above them, in the distance, a constellation of blue-white lights streaked across the morning sky.
‘VREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!’
A screeching horn cut the air like a razor. Aten and Aleral covered their ears at the dreadful sound.
The signal rippled through the horde and the horrible host erupted, rushing forward like a pack of hunting dogs set loose on their prey. The crazed frontlines splashed into the river, clawing and slashing their way through the current. Simultaneously, another massive volley of fireballs launched from the wasteland and screamed toward the wall.
Like a bolt of lightning the Seorsar knights slammed through the line of fireballs, exploding them harmlessly over the river. A chorus of cheers rang out across Everkeep as the guards celebrated the arrival of their heroes before disappearing inside the protection of the wall.
The dark army bellowed as they watched the bombardment disintegrate and they cast angry howls at the Starmarked.
Aten and Aleral danced excitedly but the smoke and ash quickly cleared and the twins once again watched the Seorsar formation rush through the clouds.
The swarm pressed further into the river, their advance becoming more frenzied like an avalanche of blades and horror. The warriors scraped and stampeded over one another, churning the river. The assault pushed and pushed until they scratched and hammered the wall itself.
Instantly the Starmarked shot into a hard dive. As they raced faster and faster, their formation split, Phelion and Tarra each leading a thrust of twenty-four Seorsar.
Without slowing, Phelion struck first. His contingent slammed into the belly of the horde and a blast of blue-white power tossed dozens of dark warriors like dry leaves, sending hundreds more scrambling. The debris from the impact had not yet settled when Phelion’s forces shot back into the air.
As Phelion’s attack reformed, Tarra’s was already rushing the frontlines. The queen of the Starmarked raised her hands and the burning energy of her aura formed a lance of light. Her guard spread along her flanks, each forming their own blazing spears and together they drove forward, skimming the surface of the river, cutting like a scythe across the horde. An entire rank of the monstrous advance fell beneath the black water.
The bite of barbed whips urged the horde forward and the roiling river was overrun again. Phelion and Tarra circled their formations back over the assault and as they did, swords of blue flame flared in their hands. Entire lines of the howling warriors fell to the slashing blades of starpower as the Seorsar plowed into the mob like a harrow through a rotted field. The Starmarked burst skyward again, striking quickly and returning untouched to the air.
Back behind their defenses the twins mimicked the fight, slashing their own imagined swords.
Phelion and Tarra divided a second time. Tarra raced toward the slow advance of the rock-lobbing catapults that still pounded the wall and Phelion swept back to the river.
The enormous siege-weapons bristled with iron spikes and shook the ground as they launched volley after volley. Gangs of archers skittered on immense bull-like creatures with thick hides and curved horns that groaned as they dragged the war machines forward. Tarra and her knights tightened their formation and drew out their flaring swords, dodging through relentless volleys of venomous arrows. Climbing, diving, twisting, the Starmarked darted through the stinging crossfire.
The line of Starmarked slashed at the cross-beams and supports, toppling wood and bending steel. Tremendous projectiles flew wildly, some crashing down into the machines that launched them, others whipping into the beasts that towed them, still others spun into the army itself.
Back at the wall, Phelion’s forces swerved across the river and frenzied warriors collapsed with each pass. The Seorsar attacked precisely, in and out of the fray, they darted through hacking blades like fireflies through reeds, always back into the air, always out of the reach of the horde.
Enraged, the horde lost any semblance of an organized attack and erupted into unrestrained chaos. The skittering and gnashing creatures mobbed the wall.
Phelion held the center of the wall and the twins’ eyes followed his defense most closely.
The Lord of the Starmarked formed two shining blades and swept them in a cross, felling a dozen dark warriors. He followed with a double slashing uppercut that sent four more tumbling through the air.
The motion brought a stabbing counter-attack of crooked blades that dripped with a vile ichor but Phelion pulsed the starpower around him and flipped into the air, coming down behind his attackers with both blades and ending the threat.
Phelion slammed his fists together and the two swords fused into the long lance. He spun the spear over his back and blocked another volley of blows. Pivoting off his knee, he drove his spear forward and swept the legs out from under five of the creatures and then twirled his lance back down into them.
Parrying, blocking, and dodging, Phelion kept the creatures back, carving a wider and wider hole in the dark army. He focused his aura into two slashing swords again and danced them through another monstrous rank of invaders before effortlessly blazing the blades together into a lance that caught the stabbing claws of a drooling beast. With a flash of his markings he tossed the creature back and pressed his attack.
His guards found similar advantage and all pushed into the faltering horde.
‘Veh Veh Veh REEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEET’
The shrill horns called out again from the horde.
Aten and Aleral watched as the sea of terrible warriors changed their formation. The beasts did not advance, however, and only beat their weapons and snarled until the whole battle field trembled.
“What's happening?” Aten turned to Bol but before he could answer…
“Look there!” Aleral anxiously pointed. Clombering toward the wall were five hunched and horrible giants, their bulky and warty shadows darkening the battlefield.