ARKENAI
CHAPTER I: DISCOVERY AND DEATHThe city was silent. A faint mist drifted on the surface of the water, lit by the bright white glow that emanated from the two moons above in the ink-black sky. Islandslittered the lake, twisted spikes of darkness jutting from the level surface of the water,and there, on the far side of the lake, one single, massive rock, its peak hidden in thedarkness. Behind it lay the city, wreathed in stillness.The mist parted briefly as a boat slid across the waters, the faintest ripple markingits passage, and then it, too, was gone, vanished into the blackness. It was night inArkenai, and the city slept peacefully. Silence. A peaceful, natural silence. And then asound. Faint at first and distant, and yet clear. The
tap, tap, tap
of metal against stone.A mile away, in the narrow lanes of the city, a shadow stopped beneath a gate and turnedto look. The sound had come from the far end of the lake; from one of the islandsscattered out there. Mist swirled, and then silence fell again.Everht’tar. The noises were coming from Everht’tar.Two miles across the lake and there it is, the island rising like a huge black corkscrew from the lake. Coming closer, the noise grows in volume, the clang, clang,clang of massive hammers pounding the stone. The island shakes beneath the onslaught,the carved stone trembling like a sounding bell. But that dreadful din wakes no one inEverht’tar. The ancient rooms are dark and empty.The boat slowly approached the great mansion, its occupants looking up at themassive house with a mixture of awe and anxiety. All, that is, but the man sitting in thevery back of the craft. A pitch-black cloak was wrapped about his shoulders, and therewas an air of wisdom about him. His sand-colored hair was cut in a handsome fashionand shot with gray, and his dark brown eyes peered curiously out upon the world. On theseat next to him was a plain brown rucksack, which contained therein an exotic goldenquill, a brightly covered notebook, and three small fruits. One of his companions turnedhis young, anxious face to stare at him.“How much longer, Scholar Derahel?” the younger man asked, an almost comicallook on his face. The elder man smiled.“Not much farther, Telthis,” he answered. “One does not rush great discoveries.We’ll find out in time.” Derahel then reached into his sack and pulled out one of thefruits, handing it to Telthis. “Here, have a
keeshu
while we wait.” Telthis grinned andaccepted the luscious green fruit. He bit into it, spraying its juices all over his chin.Derahel chuckled. Most of his companions were close or equal to his own age, whichwas ninety-five, yet he looked not a day over forty. Young Telthis here was only thirty-five, his manhood barely begun. He looked only eighteen. As Telthis turned back around, the boat came to rest alongside a small wooden jetty. Telthis stood and securedthe boat to the jetty with a small length of rope. As he climbed out, the others followed.The jetty led into a small tunnel, which in turn went up a flight of steps that came out atthe top of the island, seventy feet from the mansion’s gates. The rustic metal gate hadfallen apart with age, making it easy to pass through. Coming up to the massive woodendoor, Derahel put up his hand, motioning for the others to stop. He held up a lantern, and
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