The Prophesy: Book 1 - Cave Lupus

 

The duke brought the leading units of the army to a vast, domed room, still well below the first layer of the Upper City, as it was named. He kept silent, troubled by what he had already seen, but also grateful the King had responded for his call for help. Many questions banged in his head; foremost of which was what had happened for the young prince to be regent, and who was that young boy which showed the power of a great mage. He watched, astounded, the number of animals in the royal suite, and finally realized that, although there were dogs, there were also wolves, coyotes, and foxes. He also realized that the horses were, for the most part, wild, but obeyed to unspoken commands, organized in totally coherent military fashion. To his absolute awe, he noticed that archenemies cohabited and seemed to share a common goal, and to communicate. Then, he noticed his own dogs' behaviours. The once noisy, undisciplined, I couldn't care less attitude was gone. They seemed to report to that dog or his female or what appeared to be young pups! How could that be? The straw that broke the dam was when the equines in the city behaved the same way towards that huge stallion, a warhorse, from all appearances. Donkeys, horses, asses, mules came in, touched the nose for a few seconds, and seemed to leave with a purpose, as if they had received their orders! Then the duke took notice that some decisions seemed to be deferred to some higher authority, as if some situations required a higher sanction or a better overview of the global issues. Who were the animals deferring to, he wondered? Then he noticed that the young mage, whose name he had been told, was Harp, dealt with the equines issues, while someone else dealt with the canines. There seemed to be a three-tier structure involved that had foxes referring to a fox, wolves to a wolf, coyotes to a coyote, and dogs to that dog family and ultimately to the alpha dog; and if things seemed to involve higher order, they moved to that huge wolf introduced as Duke Greywolf; on some rare occasion, the wolf would send, or so it appeared, the problem higher up to one of the boys, prince Sitar, if his memory did not play tricks on him. The strange ballet continued on and on, as more animals, elves, and humans walked in. This army seemed to be well oiled, as each unit took position in a specific order in the room and set camp. The duke's elite unit, which always kept a close watch on his family and himself, seemed to be as baffled as he was, and kept looking in all directions, wondering what would appear next out of the hallway to enter the room.

The duke noticed that King Samson and his son were as involved as Harp and Sitar in taking decisions, mostly with elves, while Duke Yamato dealt with the human units. As each unit walked in, a leading figure would look at whomever his unit was assigned and a brief glance would be all that was needed for the unit to move right where their commanders wanted them. The silent exchange was getting on the Duke's nerves, as he was more used to orders being yelled at rather than being silently given. He kept looking for a secret language of the hands, but the royals seemed to be busy with their hands, either drinking water, or simply keeping them still on their lap.

"Why don't you join us? Take a seat," offered King Samson to the duke, as a chair appeared to his left!

«Finally getting up to gear, dad?»

«Don't laugh at me, Enron! I figured if you four terrors could do it, there was no reason I couldn't! But you should have seen my first try, yesterday! I think even the horses were laughing! I know the wolves were, because Blackie was doing a fair imitation of a hyena each time he saw me afterwards!»

Duke Imhoteph slowly came towards Samson and touched the chair to verify its solidity, running his right hand on the armrests, the seat and the backrest.

"Do not worry, it's as good as new. We won't put up with termites in our furniture."

The duke sat down slowly, still not sure of his own senses.

"Do you want anything to eat, or drink, duke?" Enron asked.

"I am a bit thirsty, and I feel I need something strong to fix myself straight. But my wine reserve is all but dried up. I have had to feed the entire duchy for the past year, and we are low on just about everything."

"Let me see, I want water, and a glass of red wine for the duke, on a platter. Dad?"

"How about a glass of white sparkling wine for me son?"

"Ok."

As the duke watched, a platter with a glass of crystal-clear water, a gold cup containing a captious red wine, and a crystal containing a sparkling white wine appeared, suspended in mid-air.

"Oops! Forgot the platter!"

And, to the duke's astonishment, a platter of what seemed to be alabaster appeared, supported by a table of white marble! The duke's eyes were so big that the white had vanished, and he was shaking violently.

"We have a person in shock here, Francesca," stated, matter-of-factly, Enron.

The duke looked around for a lady and found none in sight, that is, until one popped out of nowhere right in front of him! That did it, and he fainted, falling off the chair. It took a few minutes for the salts to bring the duke back amongst the living, and he was so white a ghost would have envied his carnation.

"Doing better, duke?" asked a solicitous Francesca. "Here, have a drink, this is a bit stronger than the red wine you were holding. Be careful, calvados is a knocker!"

The duke, being a macho man, was not going to be told to be careful with alcohol, especially by a woman, so he took a huge swing of it. The reaction was almost instantaneous. His face turned a deep brick red, his eyes opened wide and began to water profusely, and he let out a roar a lion would have been proud of.

"I told you to go slow, didn't I?" as the duke sputtered, dropped the cup and touched his throat with trembling hands.

"Have a piece of bread, it will reduce the burn," offered Francesca as a piece of white bread appeared in her hand. The duke, too shocked to think, took the bread and chewed on it, thankful that it did indeed calm the burn.

"What did you call that dragon fire?"

"Calvados, duke. Here, sit down, and enjoy the water. Wine wouldn't even register to your taste buds after the baptism by fire they just received."

The duke, still too shocked, did as told. The procession continued, and the duke noticed quite a few nobles of the Elven kingdom in the army, some of which he had not met yet, but also that a few were missing as well. He was particularly relieved not to see the ugly face of archduke Franz or Ferdinand and hoped they were stuck somewhere.

An elf that the duke did not know came towards them and waited for a break in the procession of animals and commanders to stand besides the king.

"Duke Imhoteph, may I introduce you to Ambassador Grand Master Mage Ferriday, delegated to the Wolf and Elven Court by the Great Grand Master of the Order of the Light, and Dean of the College of Magic Nestor?"

"It is an honour to meet you, duke." Ferriday replied, extending the usual salutations of mages, that is, a joining of hands and a bow.

"It is even more an honour for me to meet you, Grand Master. Your students have shown their capacities without fail, so far. I am impressed."

"Students?"

"Well, prince Harp, Prince Sitar, and prince Enron. In fact, I did not know you practiced magic, your Majesty?" replied the duke looking at Samson.

"They aren't my students, duke. In fact, if student there is, it is I! I have seen feats of magic I thought impossible practiced on a daily basis, as if they were normal and expected."

"But who trained them?"

"I am as baffled as you are, duke. For all I know it is innate magic. Raw, unabashed, innate magic, with control I can only envy."

The next ones to show up were Williams and Dunbar, who got introduced properly with their titles.

"Weren't you at the rear?" asked Enron.

"Yes, but King Harold and Prince Paschal took over just before the last unit crossed the door into the hallway leading up here. They should be something like an hour behind us."

"An hour? How huge is that army?"

"We stopped counting, duke. We were at over a thousand centuries, and decided we didn't need to keep count of everything. The commanders, including the canines and equines, keep a close tab and make sure no stray is left behind. The last units are usually the wolves, a centurie of human legionnaires, and a centurie of elves. Theresa is coming in, with the Royal elven guards, now."

"How do you feed all these people, your Majesty?"

"The same way we supplied you with calvados!" Enron replied, with a chuckle.

"I should have known."

"Theresa, where have you been?" Samson asked.

"I decided to go back down to help with some issues concerning a narrow passage. A horse got stuck. Go figure what happened, but a lance slipped out of a pack, and inserted its tip between two floor tiles. The poor animal couldn't back up nor could it go forward. I solved the issue by pushing the lance back in its package. It seemed the tip pierced the wrapping during our long trek. We need to verify the packaging before going any further."

"Agreed. We will unpack and repack everything, Theresa," Enron decided, and, to the amazement of the duke, the countess did not even flinch.

"Is that the tiny lull I noticed in the flow?"

"Yes, duke. It has been decided to halt all progress when such an incident occurred, so as not to create gaps. It was the last horse centurie, under Swift Wind, and he was not happy, I can tell you."

"But that is an hour away and you were right there, near the door, playing traffic controller a few minutes ago! And, who was it? Ah yes, Duke Williams told me the rear was an hour back!"

"Oh, I teleported."

"Teleported?"

"Like this!" And with that, Theresa blinked from in front of the duke to behind him.

"Continue like that, and I won't see the sun set!"

"If it can contend you, I can arrange that!"

"No, Harp. I doubt the duke would survive a swim from the middle of Atlanticus!"

"Especially since I can probably drown in my own bath, prince Harp, so no, thanks."

"You're no fun!"

***

The wait for the end of the procession resumed, but about three quarters of an hour later, a rumour began to spread amongst the onlookers. The tension was rising as each second passed, and finally, a word was heard from the hallway disgorging the royal army.

"Ra! Ra! Ra!"

And then another word could be distinguished from the din, at first it was pharaoh, then back, then a full sentence drifted to the ears of the duke, who was getting nervous. He distinctly heard the pharaoh is back! What now, he thought, didn't I get enough shocks to last me a lifetime?

Paschal emerged into the room accompanied by a wolf pack, and then the last unit of legionnaires began to emerge from the corridor, to an ever more frantic crowd. Suddenly, escorted by a dozen wolves, a decade of legionnaires, and another of elves, all on horseback, Harold appeared, closing the column, and followed by everyone who had seen him pass. The occupied lower part of the city was following him, chanting a refrain about the return of the Pharaoh.

The duke was not amused, and was getting ready to set his people straight on the record, until he saw Harold's face as he was riding on his destrier towards them. He was so taken aback he fell off his chair and became as white as chalk.

"What's wrong, duke?" asked Enron, when he saw the man's colour.

The duke couldn't talk such was his grand malaise. He was seeing a ghost, he was sure.

Paschal made his way towards the assembly and waited for someone to do the introductions. Meanwhile, Harold brought his unit to its assigned station, and dismounted, to talk to Yamato, asking him to ensure his security, given the frantic situation he was witnessing.

Finally, noticing the situation, Harp decided to intervene.

"Quiet!" he thundered. "Your behaviour is unacceptable! We will not tolerate any more disrespect toward the King of the Wolves!"

The result was a stunned silence, as Harp had used magic to amplify his voice to cover the brouhaha that had taken uncontrollable proportions. Then Harp ordered, not even bothering to reduce his voice level:

"Greywolf, close proximity protection for dad! Yamato, rear! Theresa, Front! Silver Dart! Lateral protection! Three layers! Move it!"

To everyone's awe, the wolves encircled Harold, three layers thick, and then the horses did the same with the elves and humans dealing with the extremities of the protective frame.

Turning his head towards the duke, Harp, reducing his voice to a more bearable level, asked, "Would you care to explain the meaning of this, duke? Or do you need another shot of calvados?"

The duke, blinking severely, shook his head no, and then took a slow sip of water. Funny, he thought, that glass should be empty by now. Getting his wits back together, he thought his reply carefully.

"Prince Harp, can we wait for the full introductions? I will then have to show you something, in the throne room."

"OK, but it had better be worth the wait."

"I can guarantee you it will."

"Fine."

By then, Paschal had had enough of waiting and gently coughed, to attract attention.

"Oh sorry, Paschal," replied Samson. "May I introduce you to Imhoteph, duke of Ka? Duke, may I present you Prince Paschal of the Wolf Throne?"

The two exchanged pleasantries while Harold progressed under escort across the room towards their location. This time, Samson did not do the mistake of delaying introductions.

"Imhoteph, Duke of Ka, it is my privilege to introduce you to my liege lord, King Harold of the Wolf Throne. Your Majesty, may I introduce you to one of my vassal, duke Imhoteph of Ka?"

That King Samson had referred to Harold as his liege lord did not escape the duke, as attuned as he was to court etiquette. He wondered what else he had missed, cornered in his city.

Introductions over, Harp looked at the duke with critical eyes.

"Well?"

"Well, what, prince Harp?"

"You promised me, a few minutes ago, to clarify this situation after introductions. Introductions are over, for the most part. Only missing is a formal introduction to the court healer, the lady that served you calvados; and to Bush Tail Fox, commander of the foxes, Willie Coyote, commander of the coyotes, and who else? Oh yes, Blackie, commander of the dogs, and Silver Dart, Commander of the equines. I doubt you need to meet them yet, so we will delay that."

The duke figured that the young boy in front of him was not attuned to etiquette yet and let it pass.

"Yes, I did promise you. King Harold, would you please accompany me to the ducal throne? I would invite the entire royal party to do so as well."

"Certainly duke. Just a warning, duke: Do not discard my son as a negligible quantity because of his age and size. Some did and are now fattening worms. His introduction was only partial, as he is inherently modest. All my sons are considered Great Grand Masters of the Blade."

The nods from king Samson and prince Enron prevented the duke from exploding in laughter.

"Ask Albert the Snake how he liked his confrontation, if you ever meet him in a problematic afterlife," Enron told him.

"Albert, that viper, is dead? That's the best news of the year. And you say "

"That prince Harp disposed of him in a Circle of Judgement, fair and square. I witnessed it."

That news both rejoiced and worried the duke. What else would befall him before the day was over?

***

The walk to the ducal throne room was silent but brisk. A lot of turns and twists were taken, stairs that seemed to climb forever, and hallways whose end seemed to disappear into a foggy distance.

"This mountain seems to be a honeycomb. I would get lost if it were not for the field," commented Paschal.

"The field, prince?"

"The magic field, duke. It has a constant direction, and we can sense it. We have been spiralling upwards and its now our fifth time we are parallel to the main axis of the field."

"We are also moving away from the core of the mountain, duke. The spiral is widening," commented Sitar, to the utter astonishment of the duke, who knew those to be facts of his citadel unknown outside of its walls.

"And we have climbed about three thousand feet. Our estimate is that we will reach the base of the city in about five hundred feet," added Harp, trying to nail the duke even further, and succeeding.

"How much do you know about this place, princes?"

"We know you are following the royal road. It will emerge to the surface briefly, and then re-enter the mountain to escalade the piton. The ducal room, which was the founding Pharaoh's courtroom, is located midway through that rock needle, with a series of hallways coming from all directions, in a radial disposition, like the rays of the sun," replied Enron, wanting to be on the fun too.

The proper description of the fortress' layout by the princes finished impressing on the Duke that these were no simple children. Even the residents of the bastion had no clear idea of its layout, as this was a closely guarded state secret.

"One question, duke, while we progress. The last pharaoh was buried in the necropolis two hundred years ago. But I know your dad died about a decade ago, how come he isn't buried down there?"

The duke looked at Samson, shocked.

"We lost the knowledge as to how to open the door. The last one who knew died before transferring the knowledge to his apprentice."

"That's what we figured out, dad. But the knowledge was written right above the door, in plain and simple writing!"

"You know how to read that writing, Prince Harp?" questioned the duke, flabbergasted by that revelation.

"Me? No, I only know how to say a word. But Yamato does."

"Duke Yamato? How is that possible? It's a secret lost to time!"

"Not really, duke. Hieroglyphs, as they are called, were decoded before the Great War, and I had a book, preserved by my family about them. This is how I knew how to read them. There are three languages in hieroglyphs, one phonetic, one pictographic, and one semantic, as best I can figure it out. To complicate matters, hieroglyphs evolved over time, creating three distinct forms, ever more simplified: the intermediate form, called hieratic, was used by priests to note and keep track of earthly matters, and the most simple, demotic, was used by the common people. The last one evolved into Arabic. It all came back to me as I was climbing up the passageways."

"Remarkable, truly remarkable. These facts were known by our last scribe, the one that knew how to say the word to open the door, but he never did know how to actually read the pictures."

"How could he carry the title scribe if he didn't even know what he was writing?"

"It was an honorific title, given from father to son. The last true scribe probably is now blown to the winds."

"Unlikely, that. The scribes were mummified and placed in sarcophaguses right besides the mages and kings they served, at least from what we saw in the city of the dead."

"You visited the city of the dead, prince Paschal?"

"Yes, and there were no ghosts."

The duke looked at the royals as they progressed, and wondered what other lost secrets of his city they knew or that he would learn from them.

The party finally reached the vast ducal throne room, more fit to be a royal one than a ducal one by its proportions. In the middle stood a dais modelled to represent a sun, clearly made of a bright yellow rock, albeit not gold. In the exact middle was a round throne of sorts, a black obsidian platform whose center was a circular column that shone brightly, diffusing in the room the sun's light, even through there was no apparent windows. The arrangement let the person sitting on the obsidian the possibility to lean on the column, like he was sitting on a chair.

"The Throne of Ra. Although I am the duke, I never sat on it. I always sit on the first step, where my father sat before me, and his father before him. We claimed the title Pharaoh, but we were not dumb enough to believe that we deserved the title, even if we do descend in direct line from the first."

"Why not?"

"There was an usurper once, very, very, very long ago, who sat on the throne. He burst in flames and burned alive, completely disintegrating. Not even ash was found afterwards. The mage of the time, whom had warned the usurper of this consequence, had also told him if he set foot on that throne he would make it impure for the legitimates until the original pharaoh returned."

"How can a dead pharaoh return? That is impossible!" exclaimed Dunbar.

"Everyone said the same thing, but no one dared defy the prediction of the mage. After all he had predicted the demise of the usurper. Who would be foolish enough to test him further?"

"Ah, yes, I get your point!"

"Now, as to why I asked you all to come here. Please follow me to this far wall, it is called no you will find out soon enough."

The royals followed the duke to the aforementioned wall, and noticed a thick tapestry of a rather regular pattern, that left the observer indifferent, veiled it.

"Trumpeter! Ring the Revealing!" ordered the duke to a man who had been standing at attention beside the tapestry.

A strong, strange melody was played, and lasted a minute.

"Drummer! Beat the rising!"

The other man in faction on the other side began a slow deep beat of his drum, as the thick indeed very thick tapestry disappeared above the ceiling. Slowly, the wall behind the tapestry appeared, and a rich, colourful pattern first revealed itself. Then what appeared to be a dog, or more exactly dogs, a wolf, a horse, a coyote, and a fox?

"Is that a hunting scene?" asked Harp.

"Be patient, prince, the revealing is only beginning!"

The next part clearly showed that a dragon, busy, accompanied the animals, roasting a chicken. As the tapestry rose ever further, the legs of an immense table were brought into view meal on a table, and then persons began to appear. First a young boy, with a strange drawing on his chest, followed by others, and an eagle, perched on a chair. Then the faces of the older children showed up, followed by the adults. Finally, the central personage's face appeared, stunning everyone silent.

Everyone looked at the figure, not understanding, refusing to understand, what he or she was seeing. Finally, Harp, always Harp, found his voice.

"But that is dad!"

"That, Prince Harp, is the portrait of the first Pharaoh. But look closer."

Everyone began to study the rest of the portrait, for such it was, drawn, no, melted into the wall in vivid colours, a perfect projection of a festive meal. The Pharaoh was sitting on a throne, which matched the Wolf Throne imagined by the royals; and to their left was a throne that closely resembled the Throne of Nature. But the most troubling of all were the faces. All that could be heard was comments like

"That's me there!" or "Look, this is Silver Moon!" or, again, "That is Duke Greywolf!" Finally the little boy caught the attention of Harp, as he was studying the portrait of Queen Annabelle.

"Hey! Look at that, It's Ian! They even included his birthmark!"

Everyone stopped commenting the picture individually to focus on the boy Harp was pointing at. He had deep emerald eyes that seemed to look at each of them as he smiled. The wolf nanny was giving him a tongue bath, making the little boy giggle.

"That is Ian's milk nanny, a she-wolf, and you can even recognize the colour pattern of her fur!" Sitar exclaimed.

"I wonder if the eye colour is right?" wondered Harold. "It's been a while since I've seen Ian, and when we left, his eyes were still baby blue."

"Just ask mom."

"Yes, tonight, when I talk to her."

The duke didn't follow all the implications of this exchange, but figured he still had a lot to learn.

"There, to the extreme left, is mage Ferriday, and right besides him, Nestor. But who is that dragon and that boy there, that seems to be built like he could lift a mountain?"

"The dragon, according to our legend, is the son of the Dragon king, as shown by his rich gold colour. We have no name for him, or for the dwarf. However, we know the dwarf is a young boy because he carried only a hammer, not the battle-axe customary of adult dwarf warriors. He wears a coronet, which indicates a prince."

"That fits the drawing in the grand cave we found. May I show it to you, duke?"

With a flick of his hand, Paschal brought the drawing to his hand from his package and unrolled the scroll.

The duke looked at the picture, fascinated. He had never seen it before, and wondered what grand cave the prince was talking about. Another mystery he would have to question the royals about.

"Well, duke, now we understand why the sudden apparition of dad created such a tremor in your countrymen. What now?"

"Claim your title, King Harold. It is now very near sext, and the light of Ra, the Sun God, should sanctify your presence and re-establish the legitimate line of the throne of Atlantis, for such is the name of the founders of this city."

"Ah, that is the name of the Kingdom that perished under water!" Yamato exclaimed. "I should have known! Its fabled existence has been documented along the seas from one end of the planet to the other! Even our ancestors documented the passage of your people on their migration across the land bridge to this continent. So many facts got lost, discarded, or downright obliterated by powers that did not want the truth to be known! The story I read on the walls of the Great Cave finally has a name for its origins: the saga of Atlantis! I wonder why they never did write the name down. I need to stop blocking my memory and really open up, one day, that habit of wanting hard-nosed confirmation for everything will burn my fingers!"

"Stop ranting, Yamato! We could all have thought of it, but none of us did, so do not piss in the wind!"

"Harp!"

"I tried it, and got wet, so I can say it!"

"Duke Yamato, what are you talking about?"

"While we rested from our ordeal across the mountains and the plateau, we decided it might be a good idea to read the wall hieroglyphs of the Great Cave. That is how, after a hard day's work, and some remarkable suggestions from Paschal, I managed to piece together the story of the founders of this city, which we now know were from Atlantis."

"Well, I would be very pleased to hear that story, but first, King Harold, claim what is rightfully yours. Drummer! Beat the claiming!"

The drummer began beating on his drum like a madman, at a frantic pace, and the drum's sound resonated across the city, propagating everywhere, reinforced by the configuration of the city so it could be heard everywhere, even outside, high above the plateau, a powerful beat that drove the returning orcs nuts, and made them run for the hills. Everyone stopped doing what he or she was doing, and waited for the confirmation of the claim.

"How do I claim the Throne?"

"Simple, your Majesty. Sit on it."

"Dad, put Excalibur on your lap. I will stand to your right with Bata, and Sitar will stand to your left with Mitsuko. I know this configuration is essential. Just don't ask me why I know it."

"Bata? Excalibur? Mitsuko?"

"Bata. Mage Merlin's walking stick, the mage that accompanied the first pharaoh to this place, and founded the line of mages that ran this place while the Pharaoh protected it. Excalibur, King Arthur's sword given to him by Merlin while he tried to recreate the glory of Atlantis in a far region of a continent now so radioactive it glows at night, re-forged by the hands of King Harold himself; Mitsuko, forged by an ancestor of Yamato to serve the light. We know there are more treasures to recover, but we do not know what they are or where they are. We are guided by Gaia, the mother earth."

"Just how many more secrets of this nature are you keeping?"

"Too many for your sanity. That is why we dose things progressively."

"If what has happened today is progressive, I do not want to know what would be normal or accelerated!"

"Sitar, Harp, let's do as you suggested, Harp. I trust your guts feelings. They have taken us out of sticky situations more than enough times to teach me to trust you now."

Sitar and Harp took position on the throne, beside Harold, as the sun's light descended and became ever more intense in the column. The two boys brought their tools to touch Excalibur. As the light intensified, a bright dome covered the three figures, blindingly covering the entire obsidian surface, right to the first step. The blinding light finally diminished as the three figures reappeared, still in position.

Although the royals had not changed one bit, the throne itself had completely transformed. Whereas, before, it was a dull black, it now shone velvety black, and a star map appeared on its face. The night sky was portrayed as would have been seen from Atlantis, at the height of its power.

Paschal, always the mathematician of the group, looked at it and said in an unnatural voice:

"Here lies the map of the sky as it appeared some seventeen thousand and five hundred thirty six years ago, marking the founding of this city, and the destruction of Atlantis by the sea. Many stars have died, many stars were born."

The duke, shocked to the core by what he had witnessed, nonetheless found enough voice to whisper to the drummer, in a hoarse voice "Drum the Recognition! Drum the Recognition! We have a Pharaoh!"

If the drumming of the Claiming had been furious and fast, the drumming of the Recognition was downright out of this world. The entire city reverberated; the mountain itself began to enter in resonance with the drummer. As the entire city shook on its base, the Bells of Recognition, which could not be rung by anyone because they were not connected to any means to do so, began to beat in cadence, playing a crescendo of an ever more complex music from their carillon. Finally, the drummer, exhausted but exhilarated, collapsed, and the drumming stopped. It took hours for the city to stop beating itself to the music, but, finally, the carillon fell silent.

"Well, that was quite a show!" Harp said, in the silence that accompanied the final tremors.

"You do have a way to understate things, brother."

"Bite me, Paschal."

"Given how hungry I feel, I might take you up on that invitation."

"Oh, damn! I forgot the most elementary of civilities with all this and it's now near sundown. You must be really hungry!" exclaimed an almost apoplectic duke.

"Do not bother. From what you said, your reserves are low. Let us feed the multitude." Sitar replied. "Let there be food and water for all, until fulfilment!"

"That's a strange command, Sitar. What do you expect as a result?" wondered Enron.

"Oh, simply, if you wish for a chicken breast roasted to perfection accompanied by a nice honey sauce, peas, and a salad, it will appear, in the proper dish. I limited the drink to water, because I think its best to stop any libations due to alcoholic intoxication. And juices can do as good as anything to create alcohol, if you are inclined to do so."

"Ah, ok. I never actually gave much credence to alcoholic drinks anyways."

***

During the evening, the duke was updated as to the events that had occurred during the past year. He was saddened to learn that his envoy to king Samson never reached the Throne of the Elves, as the envoy was his eldest son.

"I figure Franz of Sophia intercepted the messenger, in violation of the King's peace and the sanctity of mail addressed to the King."

"Probably, or some of his allies. We have had to clean up our path to reach here, duke. Anyways, Franz and his companions in felony have now been disposed of. Some received a nice Louis XVI haircut for their trouble."

"A Louis XVI haircut, prince Harp?"

"A shaving of the head by a sword."

"Isn't that dangerous?"

"Generally, the customer complains before, but not after."

"Duke, what Harp is saying is a few got beheaded," clarified Enron.

"I doubt it will be popular!"

"Not in the ranks of traitors. Blue blood has thinned considerably over the summer. Probably due to overheating!"

"Prince Enron, King Samson, I do not know how to say this, because I am afraid of being foresworn by even thinking about this issue."

"What is bothering you, Imhoteph?"

"We swore fealty to the Elven throne, when your great-great grandfather helped us push back an orc invasion. It was your ancestor that bestowed the title of duke to him and his four brothers. We never told your ancestor about the existence of this great city, afraid he might want to take it for his own. It was only your dad that learned of its existence, from my dad, who was a close friend of his. Now the pharaoh is back, and I do not know how to solve the issue this creates. We are sworn to Atlantis, to Pharaoh, first, and to the Elven Throne second."

"Didn't you listen? The Elven throne is vassal to the Wolf Throne, and, by consequence, to Atlantis, since they are one and the same. I have no issue about this."

"You may not, but I do. What if the interest of one diverges from the interests of the second?"

"May I suggest that you swear fealty to the Throne of the Wolf, thus re-establishing your bind to me?" suggested Harold. "With Mitsuko as witness, you cannot say a false vow."

"Will all the members of the duchy have to swear individually?"

"It is not so. Your voice speaks for all."

"When should we do this?"

"At sunrise, in the throne room. Let the new sun be witness to a reborn Atlantis."

"I agree to this. It will relieve me of a weight I felt increasingly heavy on my shoulders."

"The weight, duke, may yet get heavier. We need to discuss what will happen, but this can wait until tomorrow."

"I will bring you to your apartments, your Majesty. They have not been in use since the usurper, and may need some refreshing."

"If that suite is similar in nature to the Cave, it may not be so. Have you visited it?"

"We only know the door, called the door of Ra, sire. It has been closed ever since the last true Pharaoh."

"Well, let's get going. The day has been stressful."

As the duke began moving to the left, Harold halted him.

"There is a short cut. Follow me, duke."

Harold walked around the throne and headed towards the Wall of the Portrait, now fully visible, that shone in the darkening room. Suddenly, bright lights appeared on the ceiling and on the walls, creating elaborate patterns of shadow and light, to the amazement of the duke.

"What now?"

"Sorry, I should have asked," said Sitar.

"About what, son?"

"I thought it was getting dark and thought let there be light and this is the result."

The duke looked at the boy, mouth agape.

"Do not feel bad, prince. This room was named the Room of Light, and what I see was described in our fables. I wonder how many more marvels your presence will reveal that we lost trace of?"

"Probably a lot more," Paschal replied.

The duke stayed slightly behind the Pharaoh, unsure as to where Harold was leading him. They reached the portrait, and Harold touched a sun disk. A musical sound was heard, the disk backed into an alveoli, and the portrait itself then backed a foot, before sliding to the right, revealing a hallway with bright metallic lights at regular interval.

"Well, I do not need to ask anything else, that secret had been lost. We never even knew this hallway existed."

"Follow me. Greywolf, commanders, you are required below, to settle the army for the night. Silver Moon, your mother worries about you. How about you say good night to Harp, and go spend it with your mom? It is not nice to neglect family."

To the astonishment of the duke, the colt turned towards Harp, and bent down to get a nose rub, before leaving in the company of that huge wolf, and the commanders of the elite units.

"Gentlemen, follow me."

As the party accompanied Harold along the hallway, he assigned quarters to each. Doors opened to the touch, as if they recognized long-lost friends, each with a distinct tune.

"This one is reserved for Nestor. Harp, have you contacted him since we entered the Cave?"

"No, the events have been coming in too fast. I plan on doing it as soon as I have a minute to myself."

"Ambassador, this is your room."

Ferriday touched the sun in the middle and the door backed away immediately, revealing a plush, well-appointed suite.

"Thank you. I think I will take a warm bath. Magic cleansing may be quick, but it is a lot less relaxing than a good soak!"

Ferriday had barely uttered the words that the noise of a bath filling could be heard from one of the en-suites. Harold couldn't help but smile at the stunned looks of Ferriday.

The next suites were assigned to the royal healer, and then king Samson. The four boys were assigned a common suite, which was vast and could well accommodate a lot more than the group they were.

Finally, Harold reached a door, which opened silently to his approach, without his hand's touch.

"That is my suite. The entry you were planning to take me to is the standard one, but access to the throne room from that door would have taken hours. Come with me duke, I will get you across to the other exit. I think you would get lost, otherwise!"

The two men entered the Pharaoh's suite, which effectively revealed a vastness that wouldn't have been expected. A giant library of scrolls was seen on the left, a pair of royal connecting bedrooms on the left, a nursery after that. There were also weapons caches, a series of water rooms, and a plush living room with all the furniture one might have dreamt of. Another room seemed to have been reserved as a study, and the next one was a den. The last room left Harold a bit perplexed, as it had dark black spheres on tables.

"The eyes of Horus!" exclaimed the duke, falling on his knees! "The eyes of Horus!"

"Yes, but the eyes went blind, duke. Unfortunately."

"Blind?"

"Yes, these should have shown the world from Horus' perspective. But the bird died when the Great Serpent, or dragon, fell on the Earth seventeen thousand years ago. We lost the capacity to let Horus fly anew, not only once, but twice."

"How do you know all that, Pharaoh?"

"Strange at it may seem, it is you that triggered this memory. I am beginning to understand my sons when they talk of the collective memory of the Consciousness. I am only now beginning to tap into it, and it reveals a vast reservoir of lost knowledge. The four princes are far ahead of me in their progress towards the Ultimate Life, but I struggle to keep up, and try to break all these false barriers my previous education has imposed on me. Harp, the youngest, seems to consider nothing is impossible. Even death backed away from him. You saw Silver Moon. That colt was dead, but he revived him, brought him back from the veil."

"What else can he do? I saw him create things out of nothing, but I suspect it is only the tip of the quilt."

"Oh, a lot; he defeated a Master Mage without a sweat; he and Sitar teleported Ferriday and Nestor from the school of magic, which is a distance you have no idea; he created a dam and then destroyed it to wash away the orcs and crocodiles, with such power we feared that the mountains would split; he found the door to the Cave. He is telepath, can talk to the horses, the canines, and, I suspect, to just about any life form he so chooses."

"Are all the princes like him?"

"Yes. Put together, they represent the next step in the evolution of our species. I consider myself, with all my powers, only a stepping-stone. If Ian, now six months old, has the same potential as these four terrors, the world had better hold to its breeches."

"Is that what he meant when he said he was going to bring Nestor here?"

"Yes. Teleportation is his thrill. The first time he teleported Ferriday, bath, soap, water, and all. It was hilarious. Nestor fell on his ass, because he was sitting, and Sitar left the chair behind."

"What about your own powers?"

"I have not yet tried teleportation. I'm content with telepathy. Can you wait a few minutes? I have a question to ask of my wife, Annabelle."

"Please do."

"Have a seat, it will be only a few minutes."

Harold focussed on Annabelle and began the exchange.

«Annabelle, dear?»

«Yes, Harold?»

«Are our son's eyes turning green?»

«Why, yes they are! How do you know?»

«See what I saw.»

«Now, I understand. How long will you be gone? I miss you, my husband. I have been busy here. We have had some orcs incidents, but we disposed of them quick and dirty.»

«How serious?»

«We get a lot of warning from the canines or the horses. They are very effective in doing long-range patrols. However, the number of orcs is increasing. We may have to take radical actions by late fall. That is why I was asking when you would be back.»

«I have no idea yet, my dear. We reached Kantar only a few days ago, and we still have to see how the situation is at the dam. Please do not hesitate to call on us if you need help. Harp has shown an exponential increase in power and can now teleport entire centuries. I suspect the others can do as well, but I have no formal proof thereof.»

«Ok. Thanks for the offer of military support. I may call on it sooner rather than later. Have a good night.»

"Well, I learned what I wanted to know, duke, and more. First, my son's eyes are effectively turning a deep green. But there is troubling news. Elven Woods is under siege. The orcs are coming down the mountains in ever increasing numbers. I wonder where they come from."

"I wish I could tell you the answer to that question. For us, the orcs have always come down from the northern mountains. But you mentioned, earlier today, crocodiles?"

"Oh, crocodile priests. You certainly have heard of these temples that have sprung out all over the continent, who pretend to serve the Atom God?"

"Yes, but isn't this, well, sorry to say it that way, but I see no other, a human affair?"

"The humans were only the first, duke, we have found two temples in the Elven kingdom. We destroyed them and their servants, the crocodile priests. Franz had one in his capital and served the priests, or used them, whatever; we disposed of the site."

"Franz seemed to rejoice in felonies."

"Yes."

"Let me get Paschal. I think he has his drawings with him, and if not, he'll simply teleport them here."

«Paschal, I need you with your drawings of the priest, son.»

«I'll pop right over.»

«Try to keep the pop to a whisper.»

"Too late dad, I didn't bother with a whisper."

Paschal had brought with him the scroll containing the anatomic plate of the priest and showed it to the duke, explaining the drawing to him.

"Fascinating. What else can you tell us of these monstrosities?"

"First, they are highly resistant to radiation. Second they need human or elven females to reproduce, but their birth rate must be low, because no female survives the birthing. We have seen one. Third, the orcs are their doing. They tried to create a slave species, but lost control. The orcs hate the priests even more than we do."

"Can't this be used to our advantage?"

"We need not even bother. The two species are at each others' throat with such abandon and ferocity it's a joy to watch."

"If you don't need me, dad, I'll go back to my room. I was playing a four-player chess game, and the game is halted because I am here."

"Four-player chess game?"

"Yes, duke. We pooled our interest in games and decided to create a chess game based on the classical two-player game. Harp told us something to the effect a chessboard had four sides, and he saw no reason to limit the troops to two sides. Thus came into existence the four-player chessboard game."

"That is interesting."

"Well, we are waiting on two more kids to try the three-dimensional six-player game. I hope that the dwarf boy and the dragon boy are interested in chess."

"That is interesting."

"You must be more tired than us, duke. You are repeating yourself!"

"You are right, prince. I am tired. May I retire, Pharaoh?"

"Yes duke, please let me accompany you to the standard door."

As Paschal popped out, the duke was escorted to the ceremonial room and to the door leading to the royal Road. The two elves that had been stationed in front to keep watch were shocked when the door opened and the duke emerged accompanied by the Pharaoh. They had expected to see them walk up the Royal Road, not to come out of the Suite.

"Good night, duke. If anything is needed, talk to one of the animals, we will be informed immediately. They are as telepathic as we are."

The duke left, shaky on his legs, for his familial suite, which had been occupied from immemorial times.

Meanwhile, Harp contacted Nestor and brought him to Kantar.

"Nestor, there is a good reason for this. I have a feeling there are leaks at the College of Magic, and that the removal of your son only plugged the biggest. This being said, you broadcast when you use telepathy, and the contents of the information I am about to divulge to you, with the consent of dad, is too sensitive to be discussed on an open channel. Until such time as you can focus your mind enough to transmit on a narrow beam, I will bring you here."

Nestor was not going to put Harp's words in doubt. He had enough proof already of their truth, even if he could not find the leaks. He therefore listened to what had transpired and accepted to stay the night in the room Harold had assigned to him, so he could discuss with the royals the next day.