The Curse of Credesar, Part 1

  ***

  Thelaran's Hall was almost more than Kelden's senses could bear. Thelaran's fire had been cast into every brick, torch, painting, and archway; a sorcery that drew upon ghostly energies--shades of those who had died in Valganleer and whose power remained strong. In essence, Thelaran's Hall was thoroughly haunted. The keepers wanted it that way for reasons known only to them. The speculation was that it somehow strengthened their minds and kept unwelcome intruders away.

  Kelden paused before a stone archway inscribed with blue, gleaming runes. He had no idea what to expect here as he peered into the darkness, for this was his first visit. Just inside the tunnel mouth, two torches burned with a pale, bluish flame that reminded Kelden of the color of a corpse's flesh. Two more torches stood at the hall's end, leaving the long middle stretch of tunnel lost in shadows.

  Kelden could feel something like invisible hands pushing against him, warding him away. The fear that seized him stripped away any of his lingering horror over the thought that he might be the demon Credesar. It reached deep inside him and reassured him he was mortal--whether he wanted to believe it or not. He was mortal because he was afraid, because the power around him fed off his fear. Jarvin's link or not, Kelden couldn't deny the mortal weakness of his terror.

  To shield his mind against the energies, Kelden called on the sorcery that flowed with his blood. His fear didn't yield to the magic, though, and his power became dark and enraged, lashing out against the forces that sought to invade Kelden. Stung by the bitterness of his will, the ghostly energies shrank back. But it was a temporary victory, for they soon regrouped and came at him again.

  Kelden choked off his power and, with sheer determination alone, forced himself to move down the tunnel. He was appalled at what he had to endure just to visit Thelaran's Hall, and he gained a better understanding of why so little was known about it. The stone walls seemed to close in around him, and a hideous shifting lurked within those walls, a groaning of living flesh. Dead faces appeared--so briefly he could barely glimpse them, while shadowy hands groped for him. Dark images like hourglasses being turned, and blood pouring down the walls, kept his eyes darting this way and that. Insects and animals--really just bits of darkness--scuttled here and there at the corners of his vision. All the while, the energies tried ever harder to burrow into his being and strangle him with his own fears. They had been summoned here for that grim purpose--willing shades that fed off the emotions of the living.

  Two Hetheope guards--apparently immune to the dark forces around them--stepped from the shadows and stood facing Kelden.

  "I'm here to request a Garn Abbane," Kelden said quickly and sternly.

  The Hetheopes glanced at each other, and one left the hall. Kelden waited in tortured silence. The ghostly energies closed in around him with renewed aggression. It was like being pestered by a swarm of biting insects. Again he summoned his power and drove the grim forces back, but the Hetheope, sensing the use of a type of sorcery not native to the hall, became agitated and stepped closer to him.

  "The energies here bother me," Kelden explained.

  The Hetheope made no further movement, which indicated it understood. Moments later, the other guard returned and motioned Kelden to leave the hall.

  His final hope dashed, Kelden turned and started back. The Hetheopes were never to be questioned or challenged by students. But as he neared the entrance, a group of Thelaran keepers--those who had been in the Sky Chamber while Kelden underwent his test--entered and stood facing him. They drew their daggers and pressed them against their chests, but they did not use Thelaran's gaze upon him. Their leader, an ancient and tall woman named Glendissa Lorragol, whispered something to her holder (or second in command), whose name was Sadin Vayence. Then Glendissa stepped forward, a defiant look on her face.

  "Why have you come here?" she said.

  "I seek a Garn Abbane," Kelden answered.

  She hissed, a sound that made Kelden recoil. The yellow skin of her face was so dense with wrinkles and lines she barely looked human. Her silver hair, however, was done up neatly, contrasting her ancient face. Like all the Thelaran Keepers, her robe was plain, her belt a bit of common rope.

  "How dare you?" she whispered. "How could you ask such a thing of us? I know that on the surface you are just an unfortunate boy--yet underneath, you hear my words, Credesar. You know our lord Thelaran ever seeks vengeance against you, that even now he is plotting your destruction and the ruin of your master's plans."

  Not knowing what to say, Kelden listened silently as she spat her words at him. His only interest now was getting out of this hall alive, for the keepers looked as if they wanted to destroy him. The Hetheope guards moved into position behind him, standing side by side, their sour breath filling his nostrils.

  Glendissa bowed her head. "That needed to be said. Now, Kelden Delure, why have you requested a Garn Abbane?"

  He struggled for a moment to find his voice, and then said, "I'm hoping it might prove the high council wrong."

  Glendissa shook her head sadly. "That is not possible, young one. The test proved beyond a doubt that you are Credesar. We saw you change form, and we felt the power and evil you possess. You are Jarvin's link."

  Kelden kept silent, having nothing to add.

  "But," Glendissa said, "if you truly want a Garn Abbane, we have no choice but to honor your request. Our lord Thelaran spoke to me before the dawn and commanded that a Garn Abbane be given should you ask for it. So in spite of all the dangers, we cannot refuse you. The high council would be strongly opposed to this--having already conducted their own test--but we Keepers have our own laws that transcend those of Valganleer. I was hoping you wouldn't ask this of us, but I see that it must come to pass, regardless of the consequences."

  The other keepers bowed their heads, their faces grim. Glendissa started forward, and motioned the Hetheopes aside. The bull men glanced at each other in silent communication, and then slowly parted. One of them exited the hall.

  The keepers followed Glendissa. Kelden hesitated for a moment, and then took after them. He realized the Thelaran Keepers were--and probably always would be--far beyond his comprehension.

  They walked to the end of the hall, where two more Hetheopes guarded a large iron door with words inscribed in it that Kelden couldn't read because they were written in a language known only to the keepers. Glendissa placed her hands on the door and spoke quietly. It opened inward, and flickering blue light bathed the hallway--a light like that emitted by the torches only far more cold and piercing. A sudden barrage of emotions arose within Kelden, with the main one being dread over something he couldn't quite comprehend. It wasn't the spirits of Thelaran's Hall, for they had seemed to diminish when the keepers arrived. It was something triggered by the sight of that glow, an awakening of memories he couldn't quite fathom. Fragments of pain, rage, and triumph swirled through his thoughts like leaves in the wind. He was vaguely aware that the keepers were glaring at him with hatred.

  Kelden's mind screamed for him to turn and flee. But he managed to steady himself, overcome by a need that overruled everything else--the need to know if he was indeed Credesar. The keepers seemed to have already made up their minds, but Kelden thought back to Zagrin Tarless' words, of how others before him had been found innocent by a Garn Abbane despite seemingly overwhelming evidence.

  Clinging desperately to that thought, he walked through the doorway and into the Chamber of Willful Fire. His feet seemed to weigh a hundred pounds each, and all the strength seemed gone from his legs.

  Kelden's skin turned ghastly pale as he beheld the sights before him. Everywhere he looked his vision was overcast with strange and repulsive images that attacked his mind. He stood in a round room with a domed ceiling. Hanging above him, suspended by chains, were gruesome lumps of writhing matter. In a barren corner, a few of these hanging things had been pierced by hooks, and they leaked molten flame into steel caldrons. The lumps were varying shades of dark color, very rocky l
ooking, and would have seemed like dead material to Kelden had they not pulsated and twisted on their chains. It was like watching living, oozing crags of stone that somehow seemed to be suffering. Female faces were amassed upon the walls, all bearing looks of extreme emotion--from agony to hatred to rage. The faces seemed to be made of rugged metal, and though they did not move, they were extremely lifelike. The chamber floor was stained red by blood (or something designed to resemble blood) that had run down from a huge stone altar that stood at the room's center, and upon the altar was a bronze statue of a girl, a dagger embedded in her heart. Four pillars, carved in the shape of women, stood at the altar's corners, with cryptic runes glowing blue upon them. The runes formed serpents winding up around the pillars. Standing behind the altar, and towering well above it, was a massive statue of a man in a plain robe like the keepers wore. His face was smooth and young looking, his bald head split by a rugged scar that left one eye blinded. One of his outstretched hands held a silver torch that burned with a blue flame. The torch alone was as large as Kelden. In his other hand he held a sculpture of a human heart.

  And most people think blood lore is strange and foul? Kelden thought in disbelief. Some of the sights in this room--especially the writhing things above him--were more repulsive than anything he'd ever witnessed in Valganleer. It made his calling seem friendly and mellow in comparison.

  Glendissa gazed at him contemptuously. "Are you disgusted by what you see, Kelden Delure?"

  Kelden nodded, but could not yet bring himself to speak. Nor did he look at her, for his gaze was too busy wandering to every corner of the room.

  "Your eyes are deceived," she said. "You are a fool, because you only look at the surface of things. What you see as repugnant the Thelaran keepers see as beautiful and honorable. It is your calling which is repulsive, for it is rooted deep in the past--back to the age of the false gods and the demon who exists within you. Blood lore is a disgrace to Valganleer and should have been abolished long ago"

  Kelden wondered how anything---even something created by the false gods themselves--could be more horrible than this. He glanced up and shuddered, for one of the squirming rock things seemed to have taken an interest in him and was wiggling furiously just above him as if trying to reach him.

  "Though it matters little," Glendissa said, "I will explain your surroundings to you so that you will know we are not aligned with evil. This chamber is about the sacrifice of the keepers, in honor of our lord Thelaran. The sculptures around you show the pain we endured for centuries--pain and loss beyond anything you can imagine. After the breaking of the world, when all that humanity had worked so hard for fell victim to the Halstarion worms, women were nothing more than slaves. With the rise of the false gods, the situation became unbearable. We were treated as if we had no minds, no souls--creatures fit only to serve the needs of men. But Thelaran changed our situation. He became our champion. When the false gods were finally banished to the Shifting, and the Legaran towers rose from the ashes of a dead world, it was Thelaran who gave us access to the ways of sorcery. Of the three blessed ones--Thelaran, Corsayan, and Legaran--Thelaran is the only one we feel the need to honor. He sacrificed the years of his life for us, and the images you see in this chamber represent what we would sacrifice for him in return if he asked it of us--our very lives."

  Kelden nodded his understanding, and then pointed to the thing that was still flailing about on its chain above him. "What about those?"

  Glendissa's face was stony. "Young Halstarion worms, Kelden Delure. Still in their cocoons. Our power weakens their resolve and keeps them from hatching. We take their molten blood and give it to the alchemists, who are seeking a rare substance that may provide protection against their bite. It is a very necessary horror."

  Kelden took a step back, his mouth gaping open. Worms, right here in this room? Of all the dangers Kelden had ever heard of, worms were the most extreme. They shared many of the properties of ghosts--being transparent and able to pass through solid objects once they hatched into fully developed predators--and yet they could inflict harm upon a living entity. They left a circular bite in their victim's tissue, through which they drained massive chunks of life force, memory, and most importantly, will. They drained the will to live, and without that will, no one could survive for long. Their bite was almost always fatal. The worms had plagued the lands of Americk Dreeth for over three-thousand years. They had single-handedly destroyed the mighty, technologically-advanced Halstarion empire, reducing humanity to a relatively primitive state. The seers had managed to trace their birthplace to a demolished, enormous factory in the Tembros lands, where machines still labored amid the ruins. Exactly what knowledge the seers discovered there was sealed away forever, being deemed too evil and abhorrent for even the greenstone records of the Legaran towers to record. Instead, this knowledge had been recorded in the sealed records of a remote tower called Geltch, locked away in the most secure vault ever created.

  The worms were the product of an unimaginable evil--creatures that had brought down a civilization that had ruled land, sea, and sky. The Halstarions had been highly evolved, dwelling in floating cities and traveling amid the stars. But the worms--their own creations--had torn their empire to shreds. The worms were the ultimate menace, and there were several of them--babies, but still terror inducing--squirming around in their cocoons right over Kelden's head.

  "Fear not," Glendissa said, raising a gnarled hand. "They can never escape their bindings. Not in this chamber, where Thelaran's will overpowers their minds and gives them no hope of hatching until their blood is drained and they have withered beyond salvation."

  Kelden swallowed, and the nodded. "The Garn Abbane?" he whispered, wanting to get it over with and get out of Thelaran's Hall as quickly as possible.

  Glendissa nodded. "Yes, and then you will have no choice but to believe what we already know. You will then leave this tower and never return until Credesar is utterly destroyed. Go and place your hands upon the altar."

  Numbly, Kelden did as she ordered. The keepers gathered in a half circle behind him and whispered strange words.

  "This will not take long," Glendissa said. "I do not believe this ritual will summon Credesar, for it will not inspire his rage. But if it does, we will die carrying out our lord Thelaran's wishes. Do not gaze upon us, Kelden Delure. Death could take any one of us in an instant, but that is no concern of yours. Keep your eyes on the willful fire--Thelaran's torch--and look nowhere else. Now let us begin."

  Kelden waited. He was trembling so much he could hardly keep his hands on the altar, wondering what awaited him. After his ordeal in the Sky Chamber, he felt anything could happen. Several moments passed, and then Thelaran's torch seemed to burn brighter. He heard a collective gasp from the keepers but did not break his vision from the icy blue flame. His tension reached an almost unbearable pitch, but still nothing much seemed to occur, save for a few mutterings and whisperings amongst the group. Then finally the torch dimmed slightly.

  "That is all," Glendissa said.

  "What?" Kelden slowly turned towards her, the tension draining from him and leaving him feeling utterly exhausted. "That's it?"

  She nodded. The other keepers had their heads bowed. "I told you it would not take long. The truth has been revealed."

  "What truth?" Kelden shook his head. "I saw nothing!"

  "Of course," she said. "Thelaran speaks only to us, for we are his servants. He told us that you are indeed Credesar."

  "But..." Kelden again shook his head. "How do I know this?"

  Her face contorted with anger. "You know because the keepers do not lie! You are Credesar, the evil Paltos fiend--a demon bound in a body made from the great elements. It cannot be disputed!"

  Kelden nearly sat down on the floor, so overwhelming was his disappointment. His legs simply threatened to buckle.

  Her expression softened. "That is the bad news."

  "You mean there is good news of some sort?" Kelden asked, daring
not to hope even as he spoke the words.

  "Not exactly," she said. "But there are questions that need answering. We were shown an image of you in your other form--the form of Credesar. We were also shown an image of a man sentenced to death by the high council, who even now hangs from the West Gate awaiting nightfall, when the worms shall come and devour his life. This man is accused of drawing energy from Blue World--the ultimate betrayal against the Legaran laws. Our own Garn Abbane confirmed his guilt. We were shown a vision of you traveling with him--as well as with a man possessing terrible power who dwells somewhere under stone. And there is a woman whose sorcery exceeds our own, who cares nothing for Thelaran or his laws. She is an anomaly, a mutation never before seen in this world. And there were others, just shadows that we could not view in detail beyond their intent, surrounding you on all sides--some seeking to help you, and some seeking your downfall.

  "We also saw that we are blinded in some fashion, that a great truth lies before us--perhaps right under our noses--which we will not allow ourselves to see. We have disgraced ourselves before our lord Thelaran in a way we do not yet understand. His words to us were a warning to uncover our eyes to the evil or perish by its dark hand.

  "And finally, Kelden Delure, we saw that you have the potential for great destruction--that you could bring Americk Dreeth to ruin and send many to their doom before all is said and done. Jarvin's will is bent upon merging Blue World with our own world and creating a massive realm known as Ember--the ancient and relentless goal of the false gods. If Credesar emerges and serves Jarvin again as his link, the two beings will be very difficult to defeat--just like in the past. It will mean pure disaster for our land of Americk Dreeth."

  Of all she said, Kelden clung to her statement that the Keepers had been fooled in some way--for therein lay the seeds of hope.

  "I have told you everything," she said. "Now go and prepare for your journey. You seek hope, Kelden Delure--and the high council gave you exactly that. Go to Frindagan Tower and put an end to Credesar. Only then will you be free to live your life."

  Kelden nodded, but did not hear her. His mind was focused entirely on discovering just how the all-seeing Thelaran keepers had been fooled and why it had been important enough to provoke a warning from their ancient lord.