Chapter Twenty-Seven King Herric The Aurora First Age of Ouranos
King Herric stood under the dark sky, peering up. They hadn’t seen the northern lights in months. The stars sparkled with their usual brightness, but without the lights, they were like a flower without its petals. Mournful and lonely and an aberration of nature.
The wind blew off the snow-capped mountains, tossing his hair and his cloak. He closed his eyes and inhaled the crisp air, hoping it would do something to cool the uneasy simmer in his blood.
He shivered against the bite as it nipped at his nose and fingertips, but he refused to pull up his hood to shield himself. He craved the discomfort as a reminder of what they might lose if this continued. He was a king, and it was his duty to ensure the power and position of his legacy.
“Your Majesty,” came a voice, stirring him from his reverie. “They’re ready for you.”
Herric peered up at the sky again, hoping someone would answer his calls. Maybe tonight they’d receive the miracle he’d pleaded for over and over. Where had the lights gone? Why wouldn’t they come back? What had happened to cause this?
Finally, he turned to face the cave entrance, squaring his shoulders, maintaining a confident set to his posture. His people were relying on him, and he would fix this. Somehow.
He nodded and marched towards the line of his waiting inner council. They shuffled out of his way as his boots crunched over the snow, his fur-lined, leather-clad legs protected from the chill.
He’d been avoiding this, but it had been weeks, and the emerging reports had become increasingly alarming. This was a problem he couldn’t afford to ignore any longer.
“Follow me, Your Majesty,” their guide said as he turned around and led them further into the mountain.
Herric picked his way over the small pebbles and rocks that littered the path, pressing one hand against the wall to maintain his balance. The temperature dropped the further they went, winding deeper and deeper into the mine.
On a normal day, he would have heard the sounds of activity. The clink and echo of metal hitting stone as the workers chipped at the bedrock, digging up the emeralds, rubies, and diamonds that grew here in abundance.
Or had grown, until the northern lights disappeared. He was sure these phenomena had to be connected.
When it had first happened, it was curious. Sometimes the lights were invisible, but that was normal—if it was cloudy or the conditions weren’t right. But those days were usually sporadic and occasional. When three nights passed without the barest hint of color in the sky, Herric started worrying. When another week passed, he truly wondered if something was wrong.
But that had been minor. After all, while the lights were beautiful, their absence didn’t pose a threat to his kingdom. Or so he thought.
It was a week later when word surfaced from the mines. Something that had the potential to ruin everything.
A line of torches lit the way, casting their surroundings into shadow. Herric took another step, his hand landing on a small cluster of faded stones that crumbled beneath his fingers. He stopped and studied the remnants in his palm before closing his fist, feeling each grain give way under the gentle pressure.
They were jewels. Or rather, they had been jewels once. Now their color had leached out, leaving behind not even stone but this frail mass of decay that dissolved at the merest touch.
“It’s what we told you about,” his guide said, apology and maybe a hint of admonishment in his tone.
“Is it like this everywhere?” he asked, already knowing the answer.
The guide swallowed and linked his hands behind his back.
“Not yet…” He paused, as if debating what to say next. “But it’s moving quickly.”
Herric nodded. “Show me.”
The guide nodded and turned on his heel, leading Herric and his retinue deeper into the mountain. Finally, he caught the distant strains of axes against stone. As reports of the disappearing jewels flooded in, he’d ordered them to dig deeper and further. Surely everything hadn’t been affected.
Eventually, Herric and the others entered a massive cavern, the ceiling arcing high over their heads. In the center sat a crystal-clear pool, the bottom of which had once been lined with thousands of sparkling jewels.
It was forbidden to mine from the water—plenty of gems were available elsewhere, and the pool’s beauty was far too precious to ever consider destroying.
But what once had been a glowing circle of light, reflecting with a million facets, now sat dull and dark. The crystal-clear water allowed them all to see straight down to the monochrome bottom.
The only reasonable explanation was that the jewels’ presence was a direct function of the northern lights. But they were gone, and Herric had no idea how to bring any of it back. They would have to keep digging. They couldn’t give up.
“They’re still digging deeper,” his guide said as if reading Herric’s thoughts. “Trying to mine what they can, but the rot… It travels faster than they can move.”
“You have every able hand working?” he asked, and the guide nodded.
“Of course, Your Majesty, but the progression is rapid. And appears to be traveling faster with each passing day.”
Herric stared at the pool.
Without the mines, his kingdom was in peril. They lived at the base of the mountains, where the climate was too cold for them to grow much, the ground rocky, and the soil thin. Their precious jewels were coveted by all the realms, offering his people the opportunity to trade for anything they desired and needed. It put them in a position of great security and power.
“I want to see,” Herric said. “The areas where there are still stones. I want to see them.”
There was a desperate edge to his voice, but he had to confirm it with his own eyes. It would be the only thing that would quell this twisting vise in his chest.
The guide tipped his chin, conflict in his expression, before he said, “Of course. This way. There is something else I’d like to show you.”
The guide turned on his heel, leaving Herric to wonder what else could go wrong.
They descended further, moving deeper and deeper as Herric shook off the feeling he was being buried alive. It was incomprehensible to think about the weight of stone perched over their heads.
“This,” said the guide, coming to a stop inside a small cavern where several miners were busy chipping away. They all looked over at Herric and his party, their heads dipping in deference. The guide then waved the torch towards the wall, and the light caught a vein of dark sparkling rock.
“What is it?” Herric asked, moving in for a closer look. It glittered with presence, weighty and dense, like solid smoke curling and shifting in a gust of air.
“We’re not sure,” the guide said. “But we just started noticing it recently. It seems the deeper we go, the thicker it becomes.”
“We should get a sample,” Herric said, running his fingers along the vein, a foreign twist tugging in his chest. “Test its properties.”
“Of course. I’ll have some sent up to the castle.”
Herric studied the unfamiliar material for a moment longer before turning back to their guide.
“What of the jewels?” he asked.
The guide was turning to lead them down to another tunnel when Herric heard it.
A rumble from deep in the mountain.
“What’s that?” someone else asked, alarm already in his tone. The floor vibrated beneath their feet as another rumble shook the entire cavern.
Debris sheared off the ceiling, first as pebbles but then in larger chunks as their surroundings shook and shook.
“Run! Everyone out!” their guide screamed. “It’s coming down.”
Herric spun around to witness the fleeing backs of his advisors scrambling over the fallen rocks as they all made their way back up the route they’d taken. He brought up the rear, willing them to move faster as the ground trembled so hard he lost his footing.
His knees struck rock, and he peered over his shoulder as black mist belched from the recesses of the mountain. It fogged over him, filling his mouth and nose.
He tried to scream, but the clouds choked off his air, and then the ground gave way beneath him as he began to fall, his limbs circling wildly as he tumbled end over end and then landed with a painful thud onto a hard surface.
For several long seconds, he lay with his cheek pressed to cold marble before he realized he was somewhere else. This was no longer The Aurora and it certainly wasn’t the inside of a mountain.
Voices in the distance pulled him to his knees as he surveyed his new surroundings. He appeared to be in some kind of hall, the walls and floors covered in marble, while a row of arched windows lining each side filtered in bright sunlight.
His head spinning slightly, he staggered to his feet and peered out, but all he saw were white clouds pressed against the glass. The same voices drew his attention, and he moved towards them, entering a large round chamber where six people stood facing one another.
He recognized most of them. King Nerus of Alluvion, with his pale bluish skin and indigo hair, and Queen Astraia of Celestria, with her silvery-white locks and those big black eyes.
King Terra of Tor was speaking, his deep voice rumbling like stones tumbling down a landslide.
“We had just returned from the fall hunt,” he said, “when we found everyone frozen in place, turned to stone.”
As Herric circled the perimeter, the rulers stopped, eyeing him as he moved into the remaining empty space around the circle.
“Continue,” Herric said.
“We made our way up the switchback to the castle, and every level was the same,” Terra said, rolling his neck. “Finally, we came upon a rock troll.” He stopped, his grey eyes blinking rapidly. “I didn’t even know they were real. But it was there like some nightmare from a storybook, and it had turned everyone to stone. I tried to confront it, but it faced me, and then everything went grey, and here I was.”
Queen Astraia spoke next. “It was a meteor,” she said, her musical voice devoid of emotion. “We did everything we could. My star wielders tried everything, but its trajectory was set. We all stood in the main square and watched it come.” She swallowed hard, her throat bobbing. “I… What happened to them?”
Her question finished on a whisper that shivered around the room.
The Alluvion King spoke of the sea dragon terrorizing the shores of his kingdom. How he’d sailed out with a group of his most trusted soldiers until, one by one, they’d all been lost to the deeps. The Sleepness in Heart, the plagued forests of The Woodlands, and a heat wave in Aphelion.
When Herric’s turn came, he spoke of the lights and his jewels. Of the black fog that had consumed him in the cave collapse.
When he finished speaking, everyone stared around the circle. Each of them had encountered such tragedy. Such loss, but why?
And where were they now?
A flicker in the center of the circle drew everyone’s attention.
It wobbled in and out until a figure stood in the middle. Herric squinted, trying to sort through its blur. It wouldn’t stand still. First, it appeared like a woman with dark skin and black hair, then like a man with a snowy complexion and blond waves. They continued to shift, appearing as a dozen different people.
“Welcome,” they said, the strains of many voices, high and low, soft and harsh, all mixing together.
“What is this?” King Terra demanded. “Who are you?”
The figure continued to flicker, and that same multitudinous voice spoke.
“You are at the end of the First Age of Ouranos,” they answered as they swept out their arms. “But when one door closes, another one opens. And the Second Age is about to begin.”