The Third Bell Tower. The end of the prelude to the larger quest for the Key of the World.
The city was laid out much the same as the First and Second. The sky, of course, was different, as had been the last two. It was dark, a deep blue behind Delilah, over the sea, but slowly lightened towards the opposite horizon. There, beyond the city, a line of hills rose up, and behind those hills, rays of white light were beginning to rise.
“Dawn,” Maribelle said, gazing with awe at the glimmering horizon.
Solla and Lunos came down on hills to the side of the city, not out where the light of dawn could be seen. It seemed to be the customary landing spot for the Bell Towers. If the glimmering horizon was west, then these hills they landed atop were to the north of the city.
The streets carried with them a life and feel just like the First and Second had. Where the Second, beneath a twilight sky, had been quiet, subdued, and perhaps even frightened, here at the Third Bell Tower, there was a sense of anticipation. It was quiet and subdued, but not in a hurting, painful way like at the Second. Here it was simply an undercurrent, rather than active excitement. A sense of waiting, of waiting for something wonderful that everyone knew would come, but wasn’t here yet.
There were few people out and about, but Delilah noticed that most of those out and walking were heading west, towards the line of hills and the brighter horizon.
At the Bell Tower itself, the gates were closed, but at a simple ringing of the small bell outside, the Bellkeeper came immediately. She looked rather young to Delilah’s eyes, not much older than Fae, but the glimmer of silver light in her scarlet eyes attested to her being Enchanted, and thus her age could not be guessed from her appearance. Her silvery-gold hair was swept forward over one shoulder, and she wore a dapper jacket with black riding pants and boots.
“So you are the Keybearer,” she said, before anyone else spoke. She bowed, an elegant but brief gesture. “I am Irielle, the Third Bellkeeper. I have heard the tolling of the other Bells, and am prepared to ring the Third. I also have valuable information for you. You have a long journey ahead of you, Delilah Greyson. It is good that you have friends at your side.”
“How did you…?” Delilah started, staring. She hadn’t shown Irielle the Key, which had her name engraved on it. How did she know so much?
Irielle smiled. “I see on my own what to others must be made plain. Please, come with me. After the Bell is rung, we will have much to talk about.”
Irielle turned away and started up the stairs. Delilah and the others followed, but Delilah thought, from what she’d seen of the Bellkeeper’s smile, that there was a sadness in it.
To the top they went without a word, and Irielle went straight to the rope, ringing the Bell. Everything had seemed to happen so fast, but when the Bell began to toll, Delilah felt as if everything slowed down and she was able to breathe.
Once, twice, three times the Bell tolled. The first and second sounded like responses to the First and Second Bells, answering a call, understanding the warnings, holding hope for what could be. But the third peal was different. There was a finality, a dramatic weight, and Delilah suddenly felt the gravity of all that she was trying to do, all that it meant to carry the Key of the World. The hopes and dreams of the entire universe — of Light triumphing and the Endless Night being prevented — hung around her neck.
The Bell’s peals grew more distant, echoing out into the wider universe.
Irielle stepped away from the Bell’s rope, and suddenly looked very tired, and very sad. She walked to the nearest window, gazing out towards the darker horizon, and let out a sigh.
“Your journey begins here,” she said. Slowly she turned away from the view, casting a meaningful gaze at Delilah. “Ringing the Bells is only the beginning. Especially for you, Keybearer. You are not a usurper, you are not mishandling the power entrusted to you. You are taking the proper road, and that is the longer road. It is also the most dangerous road. Especially since the Tragedy…” She bowed her head. “He will have heard the tolling of the Bells.”
“ ‘He’ who?” Alice asked.
“In life, he was called Gioracchi,” Irielle said.
“Gioracchi?” Delilah asked, eyes widening in surprise. “The man from the book?”
“You have the book?” Irielle asked, matching Delilah’s surprise.
“Not all of it,” Alice said with a sigh.
“No, you wouldn’t,” Irielle said. “Two pages were entrusted to me. They will likely not complete the book, but they’re a start. And I know who can help you find the rest.” She started towards the stairs. “Come with me.”
“Gioracchi…” Delilah said as she followed, remembering what little had been mentioned of him in the Book of the Key. “He ‘lost the way full through.’ But he also saw the Key in Dreams with his own eyes. Is he… the one who misused the Key’s powers before?”
“Yes,” Irielle said. “He forced the Bells to toll. The Tragedy… it is all because of him.”
“But he’s still alive?” Alice asked. “How did anyone let that happen?”
“Bodily, he was slain,” Irielle said with bitterness in her voice. “But… his will lives on. Rage, bitterness, regret… and his vicious lust for power… they allow him to remain, in a way. The Lingering Will. It is an Intangible, and its great power latches on to indomitable wills, to lives that end with deep regret over works unfinished, and allows them to remain. He has slumbered, but the tolling of the Bells will awaken him.”
“They’ll let him know that the Key is in play again,” Marcus said. “And as an Intangible himself, he will likely be too powerful a foe for us to handle.”
“Very likely,” Irielle said. “He has tasted of the Key’s power once, and once is not enough. It never is for men like him.”
“No, it is not,” Marcus said. “And it must be a far greater desire now, since he lives on only by that will.”
“Indeed,” Irielle said.
On the ground floor, Irielle disappeared into a back room and returned with two wooden tablets of a familiar size and shape. Delilah pulled the bound Book of the Key from her bag and checked the pages against what they already had.
“Oh, come on!” Alice said with a groan when they looked at the pages. “These don’t continue where we left off! And the first and last both cut off, so we’re missing what comes before and after.”
“But she said she knows who can help us get the rest,” Isabelle said. “And more pages means more knowledge, so it’s still a good thing.”
“Such an optimist,” Alice said with a sigh. She turned her attention on Irielle. “Why can’t you just tell us the whole story yourself?”
“Because I do not know the entire story,” Irielle said. “The pages of the book were scattered, its secrets divided so as to protect them. I was entrusted with two pages, and I was able to see a few more — earlier pages, ones you already have — but that is all. However, what you have already…” Irielle looked over the pages they already had, “leaves an important clue. Here, on the last page you already had.” She pointed to the lines that were each cut off, and in particular to the second: “…loste travails last Terevalde bestowed, he found…” “Terevalde is one of three, the three who lived the events in this book. You will need aid from him and… the Author. I never learned her name, but she was one of the three as well, alongside Terevalde and Gioracchi. She is the one who wrote the book.”
“Wait, they were buddies with the bad guy?” Alice asked.
“He wasn’t wicked at first,” Irielle said. “Or, if he was, it was hidden, so they could not see what he would become. The book was written after Gioracchi lost the way full through, and in response to that. To help guide the proper Keybearer. To bear the warnings that Gioracchi never heeded. But the pages were also scattered, so that it would not be so easy, even for the proper Keybearer. Ease often leads to carelessness, to not valuing the power that is in your hands.”
“Wait, so the other two are still alive?” Alice asked. “But this book’s ancient!”
“And Alexander said almost no one was still alive from the time of the last ringing of the Bells,” Maribelle said. “Our mother, and the Second Bellkeeper… and those two, as well?”
“And… myself,” Irielle said hesitantly. “I was not yet born when the Third Bell was rung by Gioracchi. But it was not long after that my mother bore me, and though I remember none of it, I was alive for all the evil the Tragedy brought upon us.”
“So we should seek out Terevalde and the Author,” Delilah said. “But where will we find them?”
“I know not where the Author has gone.” Irielle said. “But Terevalde has gone into exile. He… feels responsible for what happened. And while I know not his exact location, there are only a few places where one can find the solitude and peace he desires.”
“You met him,” Maribelle said, earning a nod from Irielle.
“My father was the previous Bellkeeper,” Irielle said. “He gave his life in defense of the Third Bell. After time passed and I became the Third Bellkeeper, Terevalde came to see me. We spoke only for a short while. But he entrusted me with the two pages, and then said these words, the only clue I can give you regarding his location: ‘I go to where the sea meets the sky — the very edge of this world.’”
“He didn’t talk funny like in the book,” Alice said.
“That is a very old dialect,” Marcus said. “Much time passed between then and him meeting Irielle, perhaps?”
“Yes,” Irielle said.
“Where the sea meets the sky…” Maribelle murmured thoughtfully. “Yes. I know exactly what he means.”
“You do?” Isabelle and Alice asked in unison, looking excitedly at Maribelle.
“The Final Frontier,” Maribelle said. “It consists of many different areas, and is the vastest of all Locations in the Dominion. I resided at the Last Home upon the Westward Plains for a long time. But despite the name, that is not the farthest place one can reach in the Final Frontier. But beyond that, when one follows the right roads… there are no more homes. Hence the name. To have gone that far, and found a place of solitude through all the sundering lands, skies, and seas… yes. I can get us there.”
“You’re amazing, Mari!” Isabelle said.
“I’m just glad my own exile served some good after all,” Maribelle said.
Delilah held the Book of the Key in one hand, and the two new pages in the other. She didn’t bind them together, not yet. Not until she knew where they would fit, when she could put all of the pages in their proper order.
“So our first goal after leaving here is to meet Terevalde,” she said. “And hopefully to find the Author. But what comes after that?”
“The Book,” Irielle said. “It points the way.”
“Yeah, but all the pages so far just tell us stuff we already know,” Alice said, “or just general warnings, whatever. The last page we had was getting into stuff about the Bells, and now we’ve done all that. So what are we gonna learn from the rest?”
“What you think you already know is important,” Irielle said. “Keep it close to your heart. Study it further.”
“No offense, but I’m getting kinda sick of the vague advice, you know?” Alice asked. “Seems like everyone wants to string us along without telling it to us straight.” Marcus chuckled, earning a glare from Alice.
Irielle smiled, but there was a sadness in it. “I have more than ‘vague advice.’ There is much to talk about, and that’s best done sitting down, not standing out here in the lobby. Come with me, there’s somewhere comfortable where we can sit and discuss things properly.”
——
Hayden Aster Tataricus stood atop the high ridge, gazing with narrowed eyes down at the valley below.
“We were told not to engage the Sons of Night, Jormungand, or Sal…” he said softly, “but…”
No Son of Night was down below. Neither was Jormungand, nor Sal. Down below was a great infestation of Darkness — like so many Hayden and his coordinated mobile strike force of Paladins had eliminated since the Council of Light — festering and foaming, spawning numerous horrific monsters of Darkness.
It was just like all the others. At least, it looked like all the others.
So then what is this feeling I can’t shake?
It wasn’t just a feeling. The wind in this barren place howled in such a way that Hayden often thought he heard fell voices on the air. But he could never make out words. He could just be imagining it. The monsters of the Darkness below were acting the same as always, and the longer he hesitated, the more time the pool of Darkness had to spread, to fester, and the more time it would take to extinguish.
“I feel it, too” Hayden’s second-in-command, Botan Renge, said softly, thoughtfully. “But what could it be…?” He looked back at the five other Paladins with them. “Anyone?”
No one else knew, either.
“No one on the second team notices anything out of the ordinary, sir,” said their communications specialist, Camellia Kuroyuri.
Hayden bit back a retort at the “sir.” She knew he didn’t like such hierarchical honorifics. But he also knew that she insisted on them.
“I know we’ve been friends all our lives. But when you’re the team leader and we’re on missions, we must hold to proper measures of honor and respect.”
So she’d told him. More than once. Hayden was pretty sure it was her own way of teasing him, rather than actually being serious about it. That only made it more annoying. Which probably made her enjoy it all the more.
The three of them — Hayden, Botan, and Camellia — had been together since childhood. They weren’t from the Enchanted Dominion, but when they’d arrived there, the Maestro had taken them under his wing and trained them himself. They’d become Paladins together, on the same day, charged with the responsibility of the Astral Wall, one of the most valuable and important Daylight Bastions after the Library of Solitude.
And together, after so many battles together, after so much life shared, they’d leapt at the opportunity when Maestro Siegfried and Lady Kodoka had placed them in charge of the mobile strike force. While the Maestro took his team to gather information about Sal in the hopes of ascertaining a weakness of their fated foe, and Lady Kodoka trained the bulk of the Paladins and Sub-Paladins in preparation for the larger battle to come, Hayden, Botan, and Camellia had taken just twenty-one other Paladins on a fast, frenetic mission across the entirety of the Enchanted Dominion, rooting out and destroying pools and infestations of Darkness like the one below, to curb the opportunistic spread of Darkness.
Botan, the brave warrior and patient friend. Camellia, the cunning coordinator and frequent voice of reason for “the boys.”
Hayden treasured them above nearly all else. And in a moment like this, when faced with a new, unknown foe, he looked to them for advice and perspective.
“Our duty is clear,” Botan said. “If there is something out of the ordinary, we could strike with more caution…”
“A smaller force,” Camellia suggested. “Enough to gauge the situation. If it proves a hidden danger is here, the rest will be able to escape and report —”
“We don’t sacrifice anyone,” Hayden said. “Any lives that the enemy claims, they will have to claim against all odds and with bitter battle from all of us. We will not willingly surrender lives to our foe, no matter what we might gain in the process.”
“Of course, sir,” Camellia said with a small nod. She looked down into the valley, adjusting her gold-framed glasses. “We must decide our course soon. Either we destroy this pool and continue, or we simply report it and move on.”
“The pool is still in its infancy,” Botan said. “I and two others can extinguish it easily enough. The rest can focus on surveillance and defense, if there really is some other threat lurking where we cannot see.”
Hayden was silent, staring at the spreading dark pool. But he wasn’t really seeing it. He was listening. To the howling of the wind. He was feeling to the chill of the air, feeling beyond himself to something else… something hidden. Or perhaps not. Perhaps the shiver that ran down his spine was of his own imagining.
I must not fear. Especially when I’m not alone. Twenty-four Paladins… surely we can handle this. And if there is some elusive new threat, even if it is too much for us, we can escape.
We can… can’t we?
Hayden was faced with a choice.
Fight… or move on?
He clenched his hand into a fist. Then he opened it, staring at the mark on his white glove. A blue flower, with a core of golden fire — the sigil he shared with Botan and Camellia.
He had made his decision.
“We fight,” he said. “Camellia, tell the second team to follow when we attack, and to be wary for any kind of ambush. Botan, choose two to go with you to extinguish the pool. The rest of us focus on the monsters that have spread farther, and then keep eyes and ears open for other attack. On my signal.”
Camellia relayed instructions. Botan chose his companions.
Hayden held out his left hand. The air blazed with golden fire, and a red sword materialized. He clutched it tightly and leapt from the ridge, diving towards the Darkness below.
Just as he leapt, he thought he heard, faint and far-off, the tolling of bells.
The wind howled all around him. But as it did, as if in answer to the bells, Hayden thought he heard a longing, hungry sigh. And with that sigh, he thought he heard two words in a whisper on the wind…
“The Key…”