Terra Firma (Solo)

[Cydnar]

Terra Firma (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LKUxE8UE7S0&feature=related)


1930


Set following the events of Between One War And Another (http://www.althanas.com/world/showthread.php?t=20660)

Time is a vicious thing all things considered. His journey to the city proved flawless but ultimately uneventful. His parents were in the Council Chamber debating some political quagmire or another and his servant rebuked his every advance to solicit information. Cydnar then sought council with his elders and with his superior officers in the military chambers, but was without luck there also. The cities of the Hummel it appeared, were mustering for another war.

“No wonder I wish to flee,” he muttered silently as he walked through the streets of Ardey defeated. “So much service, so much heroism delivered into their arms and I am rewarded with silence and unjust ignorance!”

The sun shone above but in the city the only light came from the irradiating runes and levitating crystals which were enchanted when the geode was built millennia ago. They still contained much of their power and cast a faint purple haze across building and citizen alike. He walked through the busy market that served as a border between the noble district and the busy artisan quarters without lifting his head from his feet, intent on pushing through the crowd without attracting any attention to his wealthy self. Arms appeared before his face accompanied by offers he would normally be unable to refuse but he pushed them aside and weaved his way through the pulse with determination.

The Chamberlain had informed Cydnar that the Provost of the Knightly court, the high commander of the Hummel army was stationed in the Nydia mountain range to the north. The fae called them the Adderspine Peaks; Dakar was hunting Jabberslythes and Cydnar doubted very much that the Provost could refuse the opportunity to prove his military prowess further. It would be an interesting if perilous and somewhat stupid diversion on his route to ascertaining an answer. There were few people in Hummel society that could even come close to understanding his troubles, and as he burst out of the edge of the crowd and made his way along the boulevard to the central earth spire he smiled to himself.

“To the sun, and the semantics of conversation,” the great pillar of earth that rose through the centre of Ardey loomed from nothing and once more the Salthias greeted the Warder Dakar with a warm smile and an embracing of ancient ways.

[Cydnar]

“It has only been two days Cydnar, but it is most pleasing to see you again,” the Warder said, patting his superior on the back and stepping aside to allow him to enter the small chamber that lead to the surface. “I trust your stay in Ardey was a prosperous journey?”

“Ha!” Cydnar replied, stepping under the pillar of rock’s blunt end and giving the panorama of the city one last sombre glare. “I have left with more questions than answers, but I cannot say that I did not expect it to be so.”

“That is grievous news, but I guess there is no use dwelling on it. Much to do in the sunshine above I wager?” Dakar’s slender form moved without making a sound, and Cydnar watched curiously as the geomantic energies washed over him without the typical notion of disgust human magic smothered him with.

The two Hummel exchanged mutual glances of knowing and stood side by side in silence for a moment. As the city faded from view, Cydnar felt the rising power course through his body and they disappeared upwards into the rock itself. Despite having travelled in this manner a thousand times it was still a curious and frightening experience. Small glimmering shields covered the eyes during travel, allowing one to see the darkness pass by and with slight movements, you could move your arms and legs. All in all it felt like swimming in limbo, dredging an ocean in a timeless advance.

One mistake and we would be forever entombed in the darkness. In the terra firma of our kingdom.

Many years ago his father had shown his Cydnar and Famfrit the mountains to the North, all be it in a blanket of secrecy and security. They had been allowed no more than a few minutes under the bright sky to look out across the jagged peaks and ridges, but it had been a seed in Cydnar’s mind and a curse in Famfrit’s for centuries. It almost felt, as he rose through the rock, that he was returning full circle to the very moment that he chose to serve Yrene. That memory of fatherhood and family atop the plateau had split Cydnar’s mind in two. One half walked the line of servitude, and carried blade and crystal to battle against the enemies of Althanas. The other half longed to succumb to the curiosity of a young boy’s mind and reach out for the sun to claim it, and the world below its glare as his own.

Whatever revelation waited for him in Nadia would be more dangerous than a Jabberslythe’s tongue.

[Cydnar]

The familiar sight of the Warder’s camp appeared as they rose from the ground. With a delicate telekinetic lift Dakar lifted them both out of the liquid rock and waved his palms mystically in concentric circles. A thud and a crack of light returned the floor to its solid state, and he dropped them both gently with a flop of fine leather boots. They looked to one another for direction, until Dakar walked calmly over to the bedside table and picked up a scroll.

“I trust you will not need to return for a while?” The candle still burnt brightly in its simple wooden stand, as if it were suspended timelessly from days before. The Warder read from the parchment without sounding the words, and nodded in accordance with the mandate of his position. “There is no need for you to sign the treatise and the scroll of passing if you are making a return journey.”

“I will not be returning for many days, when do we leave?”

Dakar glanced awkwardly at the Salthias, “Pardon?”

“For the mountains Dakar, I am travelling with you to find the Provost. I trust he asked to join your party before simply presuming it so?” Cydnar rested a hand on his hip and flicked his hair behind his ears neatly. “It is his style to be arrogant, that is true, but I would hope he had the common courtesy.”

“N-no, he did not. I was not aware I would have an entourage. Do you wish to hunt the Jabberslythe with us?”

“No Brother, I only wish to join you as a guide to the pass where he is stationed. The Council told me that he is positioned there on an assignment, but requires a sabbatical. Boredom it seems is not a military man’s desire.”

Whilst he sought answers, one of the questions that had risen in the back of his mind in his stay in Ardey was one of curiosity. What were the Hummel building in the mountains, so far from civilisation that so dangerously spread the dwindling forces of the Salthias army?

“Do you require time to prepare, I was going to leave immediately, now that I am relieved of my duties as Warder?”

Cydnar nodded with appreciation, and turned to the door. “I shall meet you at Donnalaich’s north gate in one hour, is that sufficient?”

Dakar nodded enthusiastically and went about making his bed, snuffing the candle and tidying away his few scattered personal effects to make room for his replacement. Cydnar waved the door open with a telekinetic pull and stepped out into the radiant daylight with his hand covering his eyes as they adjusted to the brightness.

[Cydnar]

It was morning in Donnalaich but it already heaved with activity. Fae artisans and draconic guard swarmed the alleyways and main streets, going to and fro without anything more than a nod or a grunted hello. Cydnar walked openly for the first time in many months through the citizens that would have scorned him, should they have been less absorbed in their own world. The heat on his brow and the glimmering crystal spires that surrounded him mimicked the architecture of his own home he carried a contented smile as he turned a corner and walked along the alleyway that lead to his workshop.

“Who needs magic, when ignorance veils perception greater than spells ever could,” he commented as he turned the handle. The warmth that greeted him was a stale air and a reminder that he had spent too long dwindling and bored beneath the earth. He stepped inside and flicked both his wrists towards the vast array of shelves on the far wall. Two pulses of energy crossed the room and touched two objects. He drew them to him with a rush of air and a concentrated furrowing of his brow. His wand and dust pouch landed in his open palms and he tucked them into his belt as he walked over to the work bench.

“No new demands, no need to be here, no need to leave a note.”

With the checklist of responsibility complete, he turned slowly and took in the detail of his home. The half full glass of expensive wine from his dream still rested on the edge of the workbench and the embers of a fire still glowed deep beneath the ash of the mahogany logs. The room smelt faintly of smoke and lemons, for a reason he could never work out.

“Be gone,” he said to the shadows, and turned back to the door. He stepped out into the light once more, and waved a hand over the door to turn the mechanisms of the crystalline lock to a close. The chatter of the nearby market and the overhead birds crying on the chill breeze dragged Cydnar’s mind from the stale environment of the city to the glory of the open air and the world he loved.

He pulled up his hood and walked with his head low, his confidence knocked by the proximity to tradition. His boots scuffed the rubble and dust of the alleyway and carried a little bit of home with him as he hastily walked north, eyes glinting in the darkness of his cloak and fangs protruding to warn off any would be trouble makers or racial vigilantes.