Chapter 16 Dreams of the Past
DREAMS OF THE PAST
Aquilan’s right hand dove for the Sunstone in his pocket. A Leviathan nest this large could only be destroyed by a Sunstone or an army and he only had the stone.
His eyes roved over the silvery threads that spanned from floor to far off cavern ceiling. They were lost in the gloom up there hundreds of feet above his head. How many layers did the nest have? How many Leviathan did it contain? It was an elaborate structure of spun, poisonous silk.
His fingers closed around the Sunstone. It was warm. He swore he felt the precious heat of midday flow up from it into his chest. If he closed his eyes, he knew that he would see the glorious golden rays of the Sun behind his eyelids. His heart ached for sunshine.
Been in darkness too long, he chuckled mirthlessly to himself.
But still he held onto the stone for all it was worth. It was his anchor to daylight, to his power, to all that he was. To the destruction of this terrible enemy.
Darcassan had been right about one thing: the Leviathan were massing in the Under Dark. And with the rifts from here to Earth opening regularly, once this army hatched they would flood Earth once more.
I need to destroy it, he thought. If I hesitate far more lives could be lost. Burn it away. Turn it cinders.
He could almost imagine the ashes raining down onto the ground that was clean of the Leviathan filth.
But then he thought of what he’d said to Elasha just a day ago–gods, it seemed like an age–that there was a delicate balance in the Under Dark.
Destroy one threat and one might make way for a far more dangerous one.
But this was Illithor. Arguably, here the biggest threat was the Kindreth and their dread Night King.
No one comes here. No one dares. Illithor is out-of-bounds. The Leviathan foolishly nested here, but no others will replace them. Remove them and the threat is eliminated. Gone. Forever.
Out of the corner of his eye, he caught sight of the glow of Illithor. He turned his head to gaze at the city of purple towers that floated like some dream on the other side of the lake once more. It was beautiful. Hypnotic.
He could almost imagine walking its broad avenues lined with huge phosphorescent mushrooms that cast purple, pink, green, blue and other jewel colored illumination beneath their delicate frills.
Though it was empty now, he could imagine further the murmur of a thousand different languages being spoken at once, the laughter on alien tongues, the delight of ancient, exotic species, the wonder of a world so different and yet so alluring, too.
He swore he could smell the famous spice market that the books claimed took up over eight-square blocks with no vendor having a duplicate.
Then the smell of ink and parchment followed from the supposedly even more voluminous Scholar’s Row where vendors would hawk scrolls–both new and ancient–that held powerful spells or antiquary knowledge.
Histories of people he had never heard of were found there.
Biographies of kings and queens so ancient that their stories would seem more like fiction than fact.
The romances he adored–and Vesslan couldn’t stand–would also be sold, too. For love… love was eternal.
Was anything of that left in Illithor now?
Books, scrolls, dried spices and herbs, pottery, clothing, furniture, or art?
Had the people simply locked up their homes and assumed they would return in a cycle or two?
Or, even if they had realized that this was to be a true abandonment, had Vex given them time to pack up their things and cart them away?
Somehow, he couldn’t imagine the Night King waiting on anyone.
Plus, many wouldn’t have agreed to go no matter the price or the threat.
Illithor was their home. They had been born there, they would die there.
And maybe they had.
Maybe Illithor was their tomb now. There were, undoubtedly, people buried there. Illithor had survived for countless ages. While the Kindreth were immortal not every species that called its home there had been. So graves were there as well as lost memories.
The Sunstone’s power wouldn’t stop at the edge of the lake.
It would flow across it, burning away everything in its path, including parts of Illithor.
If the wards between Earth and the Under Dark were weakened then those that were protecting Illithor from damage might be too and the whole city could be destroyed.
He saw its reflection in the lake then. He realized it wouldn’t just be the nest or the city that would be harmed–or more like outright destroyed–but anything and everything that lived in the midnight waters–or depended upon those creatures for their food source–would die, too.
The Sunstone’s power would even scour away the lichen that made the ceiling look like a starry sky.
The cavern would be awash in a flare of light and then eternal darkness would fall on the nothingness left behind.
How often had he mourned when he’d seen the destruction that the humans had caused to their planet? But theirs had mostly been done out of ignorance or simply the desire to progress or both. Here he was–supposedly, a better steward of their world–considering destroying another.
“So what, brother?” Vesslan’s voice echoed in his mind.
“This is the city of our enemy! This place is filled with monsters! And you know that the Leviathan are primed to attack Earth again! Will you sacrifice yet more of our citizenry to protect this place? It was bad enough that you made any of the immortal blood die for mortals. But, at least, we got Earth in trade. But here? There’s nothing we want in the Under Dark.
Think of destroying Illithor as revenge for our parents’ deaths, at least if you cannot do it for any other purpose! ”
The voice was so real that he swore he smelled his brother’s cologne on the wind.
But Vesslan would never come here. Even when Elasha had told him of her fears about where Darcassan had gone, he hadn’t cared enough to check on his own offspring.
He certainly would never care about a place that was not part of the Empire or people or creatures that did not bend the knee to the Sun King.
But his brother was not chosen as Sun King.
He was.
He stared at Illithor and wished wholeheartedly that it rang with laughter and the voices of its inhabitants. He wished that it could come alive again. Be brought back and thrive. A wonder of the ages restored.
But that could not happen if he used the Sunstone.
And while destroying this nest would eliminate one threat to Earth, it wouldn’t eliminate them all.
It wouldn’t even eliminate the Leviathan!
This was only one nest, no matter how large.
The rifts to and from the Under Dark to Earth were open and anything could come through.
Anything would come through unless he had an ally here to warn him or even deal with the threats.
Vex knows the nest is here, Aquilan realized with a jolt. He brought me here to see it. To understand that the threat is not done. And perhaps… perhaps to see that we have a common enemy.
Something else occurred to him then. Something he should have considered.
Declan loved Earth and humanity. He was a born protector.
A hero. Aquilan had sensed that about him immediately.
Even before he had understood that Declan was not human and could act on such a nature, he’d felt that deep in his bones.
Declan wouldn’t want to leave the Earth in peril. This nest was definitely a peril.
And perhaps a bridge between two peoples. Could Vex understand Declan’s nature already? Could he understand that this could bring about an alliance again?
Aquilan’s hand was clenched around the Sunstone. But if Vex had killed his parents how could he even contemplate such a thing?
But I don’t know if he had anything to do with their deaths. I took Vesslan’s word for it.
A wave of guilt washed over him at doubting Vesslan. But, at the same time, his brother was only guessing what happened too. No one knew what happened to their parents. Only that they had gone into the Under Dark and had not returned.
A million different things could have happened to them. They might have never reached Vex. He amended that, They likely didn’t.
If he looked at this completely objectively, there was a possibility here of renewing the connection between Aravae and Kindreth. A positive reason to reunite once more even if it was in an uneasy truce.
Then maybe Declan wouldn’t have to leave…
He blushed at this unexpected thought. It shouldn’t play a role in any of his thinking, but what if Declan were the ambassador from the Kindreth to the Aravae? What if Declan would stay on Earth? Or even in Illithor? Guarding the gates? Only a short rift walk between them?
The thought of walking down bustling Illithor streets with Declan suddenly appeared full blown in his mind. And in that imagining, Declan’s hair was white and his eyes were red, but, instead of detracting from his beauty, they enhanced it.
Could such a thing be real?
His heart wanted to shout “YES” even as his mind tried to quell such hope. And yet, the truth was that it could never be if he didn’t try to make it so. Vex had brought him here. What he did next was up to him.
His fingers uncurled from around the Sunstone and it sank once more to the bottom of his pocket. He would not act out of fear, revenge or hate. He would find another way to deal with the Leviathan.
I must locate King Vex. Declan will, undoubtedly, be with him.
We must come to a determination together about what is to be done with them, he realized.
A determination that does not involve the destruction of this place and its ecosystem.
And one that recognizes that this place is the Kindreth’s domain but that we have a shared interest in what happens here.