Читать книгу The Creed of the Archangel - Сара - Страница 4

She turned around and looked at the closed gate, then rotated back toward the two guards. They were dressed in white shirts, black pants, and black boots. They had their swords unsheathed, standing non-threateningly with them before her. “You wish to speak with our King,” the one on the right said. “Why is this?”

“I have news about Tetrasiel, the Archangel.”

The guards looked at one another, then they turned their attention back to her. “Why do your eyes look like his? Are you his accomplice?"

“No, although we are related.” She paused. “Why is this business of a guard? Take me to your King, now."

They turned and walked her up the path, through the cluster of homes. She looked around and didn't see many people around. There were a few women at home with their children, but most houses stood empty.

As they neared the palace, the road came up to the marketplace. This was where all the people were; they were selling and buying their wares. The crowd did not part for the soldiers, and they had to push their way through the large group of Men. Finally, they walked up the small hill to the castle.

It was made of white stone, with four turrets on the corners of the guard wall. They crossed the drawbridge, over the moat, and upon looking closer into the body of water, Remliel saw many species of fish, all of which were dangerous.

The soldiers led Remliel into the courtyard outside of the palace. Unlike the Elven courtyard she'd spent the day in before, the ground was made of dirt, and there were townspeople and servants scattered about. The two men who'd led Remliel in stopped and turned to her. “This is where we part,” they said. “Our job is to guard the front gate. You will go in through the palace doors, and ask to see the King.”

At that, they left, going back through the guard wall, down the drawbridge, and through the crowd of people in the marketplace. Remliel turned her attention back to the palace, and walked confidently toward the doors. She entered, the heavy iron doors opening for her when she pushed on them.

The palace looked like that of a cathedral. The ceilings were high, with wooden beams visible. The floors were made of a pastel green marble, and there were large windows lining each wall. The palace was in a rectangular shape, and there was a hallway made by white marble beams that led up to the ceiling. There was a purple carpet leading up to the throne, which were located at the far end of the palace. Through the beams, there were a few banquet tables, some fireplaces, and a couple of armor and weaponry stands.

Remliel walked up to the throne, where the King was seated, and knelt on one knee before him. “I come in peace, Your Majesty,” she said. “My name is Remliel, and I have come with news and council about the Archangel Tetrasiel… my brother.”

“Your brother?” the King bellowed, standing. He wore extravagant, purple clothes with a black boots and a black cape draped around his shoulders. There was white fur on the edges of the cape, and his silver sword could be seen sheathed at his hip. He had shoulder-length strawberry blond hair, a short beard on his chin which stretched up into a goatee, and blue eyes. His eyebrows were furrowed in what he wanted to appear as anger, but was really fear. “You know the devil that has created Dragons and other evil on Akkolon?”

“I know him, yes, but not the man he's become. I have come to stop him.”

“We have not time to speak of this now,” the King said, coming down from his throne and beckoning the Archangel to stand. She did, and he continued. “Come dine with me and my council tonight, and we will talk about our plan of action.”

“Thank you, Your Majesty. I accept.”

“You are welcome to stay in the palace for as long as you are in my kingdom, Remliel the Archangel."

“Thank you.”

A servant woman shuffled up behind Remliel. She wore a plain black and white dress with black shoes. Her hair was up in a tight bun, and she wore a white bonnet. “Take our guest up to her room,” the King ordered. The servant nodded, and the Archangel followed her behind the throne. She saw that there were two halls on either side, hidden from the throne room by a wall. They turned left, going down the thin hallway that was lit by torches. At the end of the hall, there was a staircase, and they climbed it up to the second story of the palace. The staircase went straight, then curved back the way they came until they reached the second floor.

They got off the stairs and Remliel looked around. There was a row of rooms lining the left wall, an empty space to the left of the staircase, and two more rooms on the wall in front of the stairs. “These are the servant's quarters,” the servant girl said. “Those two rooms up ahead are guest rooms. You may choose whichever one you'd be most comfortable in.”

The girl then abruptly turned and went back down the stairs. The Archangel went to the room furthest away from the stairs, for it appeared to be a bit smaller than the other, and opened the door.

There was a bed on the wall across from the door, smaller than that in the Elven inn. There were two windows next to the bed, a small nightstand on either side of the mattress, and a portrait hanging above the headboard. The right wall had a bookshelf, the left wall was bare save but one painting and a wooden chair, and the wall adjacent to the door was empty.

Remliel set her satchel down on the chair and laid on the bed. She did not rest for long, because there was a quick, quiet knock on the door. “It's me, Kaif, the servant who showed you to your room,” a voice said. “May I enter?”

“Yes, come in.”

The girl scurried into the room with a handful of silver and light blue cloth. “These are to be made into a dress for you. If you are to dine with the King and his court, you must be dressed appropriately. Traveling clothes will not do.”

The servant girl, Kaif, moved Remliel's satchel to the bed and had her stand on the chair. She then pulled had the Archangel strip, and she took her measurements. “These will be done in a few hours,” the girl said as Remliel got re-dressed. She then left as soon as she'd come.

Remliel sat on the bed once again, making sure to keep the satchel at her feet. She summoned her wings, which she decided she'd try to do as often as possible, and massaged them, since they were sore from being hidden. She wished she could have a bath like she'd had at the inn, but she decided it was not her place to ask. The cultures of Men and Elves were very different, as were their languages, kingdoms, policies, and much more about them. The only similarity was their enormous armies.

When she was finished tending to her wings, she looked out the window and saw that it was nearly dusk. A knock on the door. She quickly hid her golden wings and beckoned for the stranger to enter. Kaif came in with a dress made of the same fabric she'd brought in earlier that day. The dress was truly beautiful, with a light blue bodice, silver lace, and silver high heels to go with it. Kaif helped Remliel enter the dress, and showed her down the stairs toward the throne room.

Remliel entered the same hall she'd come into earlier, but from behind the throne. The banquet tables from the makeshift hallways were pushed both lit up with candles, the torches on the walls were lit, and there was a grand feast awaiting the dinner guests. The King sat at the table to the right of the throne, with all the seats save one filled with the men of his court. The seat at the foot of the table was reserved for the Archangel. The table on the left side of the throne was filled with men in silver armor, their shields leaned up against the wall behind them and their swords visibly sheathed at their sides.

“Come, Remliel, and join us!” the King exclaimed, noticing her arrival into the hall. She walked down to the table and sat, immediately having her plate filled by servants. “I hope you are not intimidated; usually women do not dine with us. The other banquet table used to be saved for the Queen and her court, but alas, she is no longer with us.”

“I'm so sorry to hear that, Your Majesty,” Remliel answered, unsure of what to say. “I am not at all intimidated; I only hope your men are not frightened by me."

The King and the court looked around at each other and laughed, easing the Archangel's nerves. They all ate for a while, laughing and talking with one another and drinking their ale, while Remliel joined in the feast and had a few glasses of wine. At the end of the meal, the King turned his attention to the foot of the table.

“Remliel,” he said, “you say you've come with news about Tetrasiel, your brother?”

“Yes, I have seen him stirring in the mountains. The Dragons have awoken from their slumber and are beginning to prey on the Dwarves that live in the mountains. They're making their way to the Central Woods, where the Nymphs dwell. I am gathering allies to confront Tetrasiel and end the suffering of the creatures of Akkolon.”

“Gathering allies? Who have you already spoken to?"

One of the King's men spoke up. “It's probably one of the Elven Realms… look at her clothes and her cloak. It's obviously Elven.”

“I stayed in the Southern Realm for two days,” Remliel replied. “That's where I got my clothes and provisions. I spent the night traveling here. I have the Elves on my side… I'm here to speak to you now.”

The King stroked his beard in thought. The members of the court began to speak amongst themselves, voices raising about distrust of the Archangel. “Men,” Remliel thought. “So quick to greed and selfishness, but so hesitant to trust others. It will be their downfall.”

The King finally spoke up. “Silence, men,” he said, effectively quieting his court. “Remliel, I have decided to trust you. However, I will not provide armies or provisions until you absolutely need them. I can't afford to let my men leave, especially when there is no present danger. I will give you one thing before you leave: this."

The King handed over a small, golden trumpet. “Blow this three times,” he said, “and the armies of Iqocan will come within three days.”

The meal was thus ended, and the court departed from the table. Remliel followed, going back behind the throne and up the stairs. She collapsed onto her bed and promptly fell asleep, her body tired from her night's journey and the hearty meal she'd eaten. She closed her eyes, and almost immediately, she was awakened by a knock on the door.

She rose from her bed, her dress wrapped unflatteringly around her body, and opened the door. “I hope you had a good rest,” the servant girl Kaif said, scurrying into the room. “You slept soundly all night.”

“It's morning?”

“Yes, ma'am.”

Kaif began to make the bed, and Remliel looked out the window to see a beautiful blue sky. The servant then got the Archangel's attention, and asked her if she'd like a bath. Remliel nodded. Kaif left the room and returned with a large metal tub. Three other servant girls followed with buckets of steaming hot water, which they then dumped into the tub. Remliel stripped and entered the bath.

She summoned her wings, and the girls took a few steps back. They began whispering to each other as the Archangel massaged the muscles and plucked out dead feathers. “I shouldn't have slept with them hidden,” she mumbled to herself, watching the bathwater slowly turn brown. Golden feathers floated on the surface of the water, and the Archangel finally began to wash her body. When she finished, she got out of the bath, and put on her traveling clothes she'd gotten from the Elves.

She walked down the stairs, satchel around her shoulder and trumpet tied to her belt, and she emerged behind the throne, where the King was sitting. “Thank you for hosting me,” she said, bowing respectfully. “Your dinner feast was delightful.”

“I'm glad you enjoyed it,” he answered, leaning forward a little bit to simulate a bow. “There is a steed waiting for you outside; one of our best. I hope she aides you in your travels.”

“Thank you, Your Majesty,” the Archangel responded. She quickly exited the palace and saw the white horse outside of the palace doors. The drawbridge was down, and she could see the townspeople shopping in the marketplace. She quickly hid her wings, unaware that they were still visible, and mounted the steed.

A stable boy, who was holding the reins of the horse, looked up at the Archangel in awe. “H-her name is Cade,” he stammered. After a slight pause, he commented, “Your wings were beautiful… why do you hide them?"

“I don't want to frighten people.”

“I can understand that… but they were beautiful.”

The Archangel rode off without answering; she felt as though there was nothing that she could say, for the boy knew and felt all he needed to know and feel.

She rode her way slowly through the crowd, who still did not part for her. This was another difference between Elves and Men; Men seemed to be more rude than the reverent Elves.

The sun was in the middle of the sky, and Remliel rode West toward the Eastern River. The river flowed from the Eastern River Delta and curved South toward the fork where Remliel had landed upon her arrival to Akkolon.

She reached the river by nightfall, since it wasn't far from the gates of Iqocan. She made rest on the bank of the river for the night, creating a small wooden post with her powers to tie her steed up to. She didn't want him to run away in the night.

She pulled out her map and studied it through the night. She looked up at the sky, seeing the moon slowly descending to the East, watching the stars sparkle up in the protective dome of the world. She sighed to herself, both out of happiness and sadness. She was proud of the world her mother, the One, had created, but she longed for her company and missed living with her and her brother in the Emptiness.

When the sun rose from the North, Remliel stood, untied the horse from the post, and waved her hand, making the piece of wood disappear. She then mounted the steed and rode over the Eastern River. She saw the Forsaken Hills were close, so she rode to them.

The mountain range was the smallest of the three on Akkolon, and there lived the Southwestern clan of Dwarves. Dwarves were the most stubborn race, and they liked to hide away amongst their riches, shutting out the rest of the world's problems. The only thing the Dwarves had to worry about was trading and Dragons, but with the abominable creatures all the way in the North upon the Dead Peaks, Remliel doubted that the Southwestern clan even knew about them. After all, almost all of Tetrasiel's creatures were dwelling near him, ready to serve his darkness at a moment's notice.

Remliel rode up to the Forsaken Hills, seeing the enormous mountain peaks stretch into the sky the closer she got. Upon reaching them, she saw a small gravel walkway to the middle of the mountain range. There was a door engraved into the stone, but all Remliel could see was the outline of the doorway: there was no handle, no hinges, nothing to allow entry into the mountain.

She knocked three times on the stone, hoping the Dwarves inside would hear her. She looked at the Dwarvish language engraved onto the doorway and read it aloud to herself: “If ye be a kindly folk, or if ye be full of hate; we welcome you unless you cloak, your intentions coming through our gate.”

The stone began to move, the doorway protruding from the mountainside and allowing entry into the Dwarf kingdom. Remliel walked her horse inside with her, feeling the door close behind her. She was immediately plunged into darkness. The steed stayed rather calm, much to the surprise of the Archangel, but she tightened her grip on the reins nevertheless.

She stretched out her other hand, allowing her power to flow through her and create a beam of light for her to see with. There wasn't much to see under the mountain, so she called out for the Dwarves.

After her voice echoed through the cavern for a moment, torches along the walls began to light themselves. Remliel put away her own light and followed the dim glow of the fire. She saw that she was in a long hallway with a high, domed ceiling. Everything around her was made of stone. The hall went forward for a while until it branched off into four different directions. Each branch had a large arch of stone with Dwarvish embedded into it. There were torches down each of the four hallways, all of them lit, and a hot, bright light coming from the bottom of the leftmost hall.

Remliel called out once again when she got to the fork, hoping she would see at least one Dwarf today. Luckily for her, a group of miners were coming up the leftmost hall toward the fork, and she got their attention. “Excuse me, do you mind showing me to your ruler?" she asked.

They stopped and stared at her for a moment. “You know Dwarvish?” one asked. “Only Dwarves know Dwarvish.”

“I know all tongues,” Remliel answered. “I am not from this world."

“Where are you from then?”

“The Emptiness, the vast Universe. I come from the One.”

“I'm not sure I understand."

“I will explain all on our way to your King.”

The group of Dwarves approached Remliel, guiding her down the rightmost hall. She told them everything about the One, her brother and his evil deeds, and her arrival on Akkolon. The only thing she didn't know, however, was all the languages of the people on Akkolon. “Everyone speaks a different language, so how do you trade and fight alongside one another?”

“There is one common language among all creatures,” one of the Dwarves said. “We call it Onuin, the Common Tongue.”

They finished their long walk down the rightmost hall until they reached yet another fork, this time with two halls going opposite each other. “You will take the left hall down to the City,” the Dwarf said. “We have to get back to our mine. Best of luck to you.”

The Dwarves departed, going back up the way they came. Remliel took a deep breath and walked down the hall. She descended a flight of stairs, followed a few twists in the hall, and climbed down yet another flight of stairs until she came to the City. The arch over the entrance read, in Dwarvish, “The City, the Lifegiver of the Dwarves, our Royal Hideout.”

Remliel entered the city and looked in awe at what she saw. The ceiling was hundreds of feet in the air, with rainbow colored stalactites hanging from the roof of the cave. There were magnificent buildings made of clay, gravel paths and streets, and a shiny structure larger than the rest built into the back wall of the City.

The Dwarves, Remleil observed, were all full of hair, in order to keep them warm under the cold mountain. The men had great beards that reached the tops of their protruding bellies, and the women had long hair that seemed to wrap itself around their faces like beards. They all wore thick, leather and fur jackets that reached their ankles, some of which were tied shut, but others hung open to reveal their brown, black, or white colored tunics, and black pants that were neatly tucked into black boots.

The Archangel led her horse through the main street of the Dwarvish kingdom, looking down at the shorter race that surrounded her. They looked up at her and her horse both in awe and in fear. The crowd of people parted for her as she made her way to the back wall, toward the shining building.