Syrus

Rating: Teen

Genre: Fantasy/Action/Adventure/Romance

Summary: Protect the girl, the talking rock said. Make sure you keep her safe from bandits, magicians, princes, and all the armies you could ever want to flee from. Don’t forget the demons. Yup, and for all that, it’s just you and your Magic Walking Stick. Oh, brother…

The village of Kaltar was not a very well-known place. Situated in a snug little round valley in the center of a mountain range, it was at times unclear how the place had even been founded. Had enchanters of old flown to the valley somehow? Was there a hidden path up the mountains outside?

Nobody knew. The maps of the Galsan Empire, which technically owned the valley and the mountains around it, marked the location of the village with the notation ‘PNE’, or Presumed to No Longer Exist. Nobody had a good reason to justify the cost of going to find out, so they simply forgot about it. Some maps did not even have it marked anymore.

The actual residents of Kaltar were what most would consider to be simple folk. They grew crops, alternating the ground used in a wide circle year by year to give the land time to replenish itself; they drew water from the abundant, clear falls that were numerous outside the valley, and overall they enjoyed their lives in peace. Every village has its stories, however.

In Kaltar, nobody approached the Shrine. It was in the very center of the valley, surrounded by a lake a few hundred paces large in each direction. There was no visible entrance (most assumed it was hidden under the water somewhere), and the structure never decayed. They would go into the lake, of course; it was fairly large, and a number of fun festivals and rituals involved it, but they all simply stayed away from the strange white building.

That is, until the Night of Light. There was no explanation for the phenomenon that anybody could back up with evidence. Across the land, however, on a night like ay other, monuments of folklore and superstition burst into light. The pillars of radiance than rose into the sky and arced into the distance.

Except for the light from the building known simply as the Shrine. The lights from the other buildings gathered above it, bathing the entire valley in radiance. Fairly superstitious, everybody immediately shut their doors and windows before heading down into their cellars. If something good happened, well, it could wait until morning. And if something bad happened, it probably didn’t know what a cellar was, thus making them safe. After a few long minutes, the lights died away.

The following morning, one boy from Kaltar got up very early to go do what nobody else was willing to: Investigate the Shrine.

Syrus Markal, the only child of the village mayor, edged his way off the boat which usually hung tied to the dock and stepped out onto the pebbles which surrounded the Shrine. It would be some time yet before people emerged from their houses, he knew. And at sixteen years of age, he was well-aware of the fact that he was immortal; anything bad would happen to somebody else, and was therefore not his problem.

After a few moments, he reached out and touched the wall of the Shrine. No holy fire was erupting out of it to burn him to ashes for heresy, and no dark powers were flooding his mind… so it was probably safe. That was good enough for him. He began walking around the Shrine, examining it for any sign of an entrance.

“Come on, come on…” he grumbled. “Who builds a building without making an entrance?” he pounded on the wall. “Open, darn you!” The wall vanished. Syrus blinked. He hadn’t really thought that would work. Carefully, he edged against the wall and peered inside for just a moment before jerking backwards.

There was no horrible screeching or screaming, nor was there an alluring voice inviting him inside. So perhaps this was no dark being’s working, just the simple opening of the entrance. Syrus carefully stepped inside and proceeded forward, checking every now and then to see if the door would shut on him. It didn’t. The place was as still as a grave.

It was, however, much lighter. Refusing to explain itself, the whole building was illuminated like there weren’t any walls at all; he might as well have been outside. Seeing as he could find no windows, Syrus just decided that magic was involved as an automatic spell to light the place up. Nothing grand, nothing special, just illumination.

That decision was reinforced by the utter boredom the hall he was in created. Made from the same white substance as the outside building, it was a totally featureless hall, and not a very large one at that. As he came to the blocked end of the hall, the boy pounded on the wall again. Nothing happened.

“Open!” he commanded. For a long moment, nothing happened. Then it opened. The floor, that is, directly underneath him. Syrus fell down, having the grace to not follow form and emit an ear-shattering scream.

It was as well he didn’t; instead of landing on the hard floor and breaking his bones, the boy landed on a massive pile of pillows. After reorienting himself, the boy ducked low and looked around. There was no sign of malice in the air, but that could be just a trick. He carefully turned. Not far from him was a set of steps leading far up, and it looked like he had simply fallen because he had been too far forward. Anticipating this sort of thing, soft objects had been placed at the point of landing. Okay, that was cool.

The chamber, under the water level, was large. Quite large, actually; it could have held his village’s entire population several times. It was also mostly featureless. The walls did not have decorations, there were no altars, nothing at all. Except for the pillows and the stairs, the only thing breaking the total uniformity was a pool at the other end of the room.

Syrus did some rough calculations. That pool was at what he figured to be the very center of the valley… or somewhere right below that spot, anyways. After a few more moments, he dug through the pillows. Maybe there was something below him, too… however, a minute of searching gave a negative in that regard. Grabbing two of the pillows, and hoping if he needed them they would actually prove useful, the boy advanced to the pool. There was something at the bottom…

“Uh… rise.” The boy said. Absolutely nothing happened. “Lift. Ascend. Levitate. Move in an upwardly direction.” Still nothing. Syrus continued throwing out words. “Swirl. Dissolve. Reappear. Float away from the bottom. Become lighter than the water.” He scratched his head. “Drain?”

The water promptly drained away. Syrus grumbled to himself. What he wouldn’t give for a guide to the right words to use here, since verbal commands seemed to be the key. A set of steps lead down to the object at the bottom. Keeping a firm grasp on his pillows, and putting them in front of him, the boy cautiously advanced. What had lain undisturbed at the bottom of a pool in a hidden room of a sealed off temple was as blatantly unremarkable as the rest of the place. It reminded Syrus of a grave; a big, long box with a domed roof, the kind Emperors and Kings were supposedly laid to rest in. Unfortunately, the thing seemed to be carved entirely out of stone; else the boy would have gone to get help in tilting off the top.

“What to say now… open!” the boy ordered, pointing at the object. Again, nothing happened. “Spread apart your top! Reveal to me your contents!”

WHO ASKS TO SEE WHAT I HOLD?

Syrus scrambled backwards. Great, now he was hearing things in his head. This wasn’t good. Anything that talked like that was bound to be some sort of ancient evil… the boy prayed he wasn’t the one who had resurrected it.

SPEAK!

“Uh… I am Syrus Markal, son of the Mayor of Kaltar!” the boy said. “And who are you, oh talking stone?”

MOCK ME NOT! FOR I AM THE KEEPER OF ANCIENT POWERS… POWERS MORTALS LIKE YOURSELF SHOULD NEVER SEE!

“Yup, this is bad.” Syrus muttered, backing off carefully. “Okay, rock, I agree with you. You’re a mysterious voice in my head telling me I shouldn’t know what’s inside you, and seeing as I like living, I’ll take your advice. Sorry for wasting your time… but may I ask a question before I go?”

YOU JUST DID. BUT I WILL PERMIT YOU ANOTHER.

“Thanks… What made this place glow last night?” Syrus asked. At the very least, he could go back with the knowledge he had came here to get; and the talking rock seemed like it would be nice if he did as he was told for once in his life.

IN THIS WORLD, THERE ARE THINGS WHICH YOU CANNOT POSSIBLY COMPREHEND. THE ILLUMIATION OF THE AESAR’S REST WAS PART OF SUCH THINGS. NOW YOU MUST ANSWER A QUESTION OF MINE.

“Sounds fair.” Syrus said, sitting down on one of the pillows. “I ask you one, you ask me one, I go away and never bother you again.” The voice in his head laughed.

IN A SHORT TIME, A CHILD OF THE AESAR SHALL AWAKEN. THIS CHILD MAY SEEM NORMAL AT FIRST, BUT THAT IS ONLY BECAUSE YOU DO NOT UNDERSTAND HOW THINGS TRULY ARE. WILL YOU GIVE THIS CHILD ASSISTANCE? KEEP IN MIND, YOUR WORD IS YOUR BOND...

“Hmm… Sure, why not.” Syrus said, shrugging. “I can at least show this kid out of the Valley or something… Don’t know about down the mountains, though, because that’s nearly impossible.”

THERE IS A PATH WHICH SHALL BE SHOWN TO YOU… PROTECT THIS AESARI, MORTAL, WITH YOUR LIFE. TO ASSIST YOU ON YOUR WAY, I GRANT YOU THESE.

A GAUNTLET, WHOSE GEM SHALL STORE YOUR THINGS UNTIL YOU HAVE NEED OF THEM.

A TOME, WHOSE CONTENTS WILL GUIDE YOU ON YOUR PATH.

A SWORD, WHICH YOU SHALL NOT USE, BUT SHALL KEEP IN TRUST FOR THE AESARI.

A RING, WHICH SHALL PROTECT YOU IN TIMES OF DANGER.

A CLOAK, WHOSE POWER SHALL HIDE YOU FROM MORTAL EYES AS YOU DESIRE.

NOW NAME YOUR WEAPON.

Syrus blinked. Already, five items had appeared before him. He thought carefully. It sounded like this talking rock could give him almost anything… so if he were going to have a weapon of his own, what would it be?

“Please give me a staff.” The boy finally said. Everybody always underestimated the use of a walking staff, and nobody tried to steal them. “A walking staff, which I can take with me as I walk and use without worrying about whether it will break or not.”

A WISE CHOICE FROM ONE SO YOUNG. FATE HAS CHOSEN WELL. I GRANT YOU THIS STAFF, WHICH SHALL NOT BREAK SO LONG AS YOU HOLD TRUE. KEEP IT SAFE… IT HAS MORE POWER THAN YOU KNOW.

In front of the other items, which had appeared in a row before Syrus, a staff appeared. The boy had to admit, it looked sturdy; thick and made of wood, with a bottom tipped in iron, it was the sort of walking stick that somebody could use for their entire life. The boy picked it up and examined it. After a few moments, he located several runic symbols carved into it. Three were on the tip, which would constantly be in the dirt, and others were located artistically around its head. To a casual observer, they were not even there. Obviously magical.

“Thank you.” The boy said, getting to his feet. He picked up the cloak and put it on, followed by the ring, which went onto his left hand, and the gauntlet, which he slipped onto his right. It was one of those nice gauntlets where the fingers were still exposed; wearing it wouldn’t cause any difficulty. Nodding, the boy gestured to the other three items, which were pulled and distorted as the flew into the crystal on the gauntlet’s back.

BEAR THEM WELL, MORTAL…

“I might be able to manage that.” Syrus replied. There was no response. After waiting for several moments to see if anything else ridiculous was going to happen, the boy headed towards the steps and began heading up them. Young as he was, the steps were deep and there were a whole lot of them; by the time he got to the top, he was nearly worn out. “I have got to exercise more.” The boy said, pausing for a few minutes to catch his breath.

When he had managed that, he turned around and found, on the other side of the deep stairwell, a giant room. That hadn’t been there before. Very cautiously, Syrus edged into the room. Finally, there was a chamber of actual interest in this place. Up towards the ceiling, there were a lot of carved figures and such, and all around the room were the most lifelike statues he had ever seen. However, Syrus did not notice these fantastic displays of skill. Smack in the middle of the room was an altar, but more importantly, on top of the altar there was a person.

Muttering every charm to ward off evil and bad luck he had ever heard, and several of his own, Syrus crept forward until he was by the person’s side. With things no longer in the way, he came to several reasonable, if not very long, conclusions.

One: Definitely a girl.

Two: My age.

Three: Cute.

Four: Totally capable of blowing me to pieces.

There was nothing to worry about, then. Possessing long, silky black hair and very pale skin, not to mention an aura of something more than human, the girl really was nothing like what he had seen before in his little home. Chuckling slightly, Syrus leaned over, put his hands on the girl’s shoulders, and leaned in closer. Then he began shaking the girl wildly.

“Wake up!” he said, continuing to shake the girl back and forth. After only a second more of this, she did exactly that. Screeching in some language he didn’t know, the girl brought a hand up and smacked him. “Good.” Syrus said, nodding as he let go of the girl and backed away. She babbled at him. “And I have no idea what you’re saying… should’ve asked that rock to give me a translation feature on this thing.” He hefted up his staff. “Would’ve helped with merchants, too… Are you this Aesari thing I’m supposed to help?”

The girl froze, her mouth moving but no sounds issuing out of it. At first, Syrus wondered if hearing that name was enough to shock her… Then, however, he decided it wasn’t. A little surprising to her, undoubtedly, but not enough to make her fall totally silent. Very, very slowly, he turned around.

Standing not ten feet away was the largest, evilest creature he had ever lain eyes upon… not to mention the first. The two stared at each other for a few moments before Syrus hefted up his staff.

“Okay, you want to make a meal of her or something?” the boy asked, getting into a defensive stance. “Bring it on, but you’ll have to go through me first.”

Such words were among the stupidest he had ever uttered. Yes, he was now in possession of a number of extremely powerful magical objects, but none of the ones he was allowed to use were actually weapons, with the possible exception of his staff. On top of that, he had almost no experience in fighting beyond the wrestling matches at the Village Fair, nor any sort of formal training. He hadn’t even had to fight wild beasts, for the simple reason that only very passive herbivores came up the mountains this far.

His opponent, on the other hand, a massive, black-scaled, salivating beast of darkness, had probably fought armies before. And now all that was in his way was a puny little boy with a stick? Hah! If the beast was capable of such noises, it would have laughed. Loudly. Well, it would just snap that little twig and move on to the feasting; it was said among his kind that flesh touched by the Aesar’s power was the best anywhere. With that in mind, the beast brought a leg up and brought it down with enough force to pierce the strongest armor.

Syrus’ staff not only took the hit, but didn’t so much as chip. A more interesting note ran through Syrus’ mind, however. Ordinarily, with a blow like that, his arms should have been broken because of the sheer force, even if his stick wasn’t. His arms were just fine, though, which told him that the staff negated the force it came in contact with, this allowing the boy to use it as a defense no matter how strong the opponent was; the previous blow hadn’t even jostled his arms. That really was nice, and a feature magic swords tended to lack.

“All right, fatty, it’s you and me.” The boy said. He ran forward, bashing aside the creatures legs as he wove in and out of its attacks. Sure, he’d never had formal training or anything, but he did have something better: the experience of a boy who’d gone through the Rite of Fire. Nothing special, it was just a coming-of-age event where the boy or girl in question would dodge things for as long as possible; prizes were awarded based on how long you lasted. Syrus had gotten the top prize when he’d underwent it.

Smirking as he reached the creature’s chest, the boy took a deep breath and plunged the tip of his staff, as opposed to the much thicker head, into the creature’s chest. As with so many things lately, nothing happened. Well, that’s not entirely true. The boy received a nice ‘dink’ sound out of it. Wishing he knew curses to mutter, the boy threw himself to the side, fended off several more attacks, and spun around to face the creature’s head.

It was two feet away from him. On instinct alone, the boy stuck the tip of his staff into it as hard as he could. This time, an effect was created; the creature screamed as silver fire burst out of the staff and enveloped it, burning away the creature as it rushed through its body. When the attack was done, a small gem fell to the floor.

“Nice.” Syrus said, looking at his staff. He walked over, picked up the gem, and slipped it into his pocket. Turning back to the girl, he blinked. She was sitting on the edge of the bed, smiling at him. The girl babbled something else. “Uh… thanks. I guess.” The boy muttered. “I don’t suppose you can speak my language, because I definitely don’t know yours…” the girl laughed, walked over to him, and slipped her arms around one of his. Sighing, the boy scratched his head. This could be a bit of a problem. Taking somebody somewhere, he could deal with. He’d always wanted to explore outside of the Valley, though he did think of the place as home. Not being able to talk to that person, though, would make it a whole lot less fun.

Hoping there was something to help him in the book, the boy called it out of its storage place and flipped to the first page. There were only a few words and a single drawing.

Go Down The Stairs, it said. Syrus raised an eyebrow and looked around the room. The altar that the girl had been resting on slid backwards to reveal a set of stairs. Looking at the book with renewed respect, the boy put it away again, inside a pocket in his new cloak this time, and lead the holy maiden towards the stairs. She just clung to him, a happy smile on her face.

Peering down the steps, Syrus rather thought they stretched into infinity. While perfectly lit, just like the rest of the place, he hadn’t the faintest clue how far down they really went. With that in mind, he set his foot down on the first step only to hear screams from outside.

Syrus wasted no time in bolting back to the entrance of the Shrine, the happy girl in tow. Looming over the village was the most ridiculously large creature that never should have even known about this little haven. Clustered in the center of the village, surrounded by smaller demons, were the villagers.

“Let go of me!” Syrus snapped at the girl. Surprisingly, she did so. Without even a second thought, the boy jumped into the boat and began rowing back to the shore. Smiling, the girl stepped in with him, seeming undisturbed. The creatures paid no attention to them until their boat reached the shore. Then they turned to look.

With no apparent sign of communication, three of the beasts pulled away from their brethren and launched, snarling, towards Syrus and the girl. Well, these creatures were nothing special; he’d just fought something nastier. Keeping his stance firm, the boy lashed out at the beasts with the tip of his staff as they came into range. Each one was burned away by silver fire, leaving only a small jewel behind.

This sudden threat was enough to make the rest of the beasts turn and charge at him, leaving only a select few to guard the prisoners. Syrus’ eyes narrowed. Even if he could take them out in a single hit each, he had to stab them. Those magic swords were definitely the better items in a situation like this. The boy felt a tap on his arm.

“What is it?” he asked, watching the oncoming creatures with no small degree of dismay. He was pulled backwards by a surprising amount of force from one so cute, and could only watch, perplexed, as the girl stepped forward. His first instinct was to get in front of her, but she didn’t look like she planned to die some sort of hero, so he decided to trust her. The girl raised her hand and pointed at the ever-closer crowd of beasts.

“Amas cielta jerok!” she said. Bolts of blue lighting danced out of her fingertips and hit the oncoming crowd of demons, turning them to ashes and spreading to others as they hit. In just a few moments, the entire force was gone, leaving only a glittering field of gems. Syrus stared at the girl.

“Remind me to never annoy you. Thanks.” He said. The girl smiled cheerfully at him. “I’ll take care of the rest, then… it should be me helping you, after all, not the other way around.” The girl sat down in the boat, and surprised he was managing to make himself understood so well, the boy launched forward.

The beasts around his fellow villagers were quickly dispatched, and with hits to the chest, no less. Syrus smirked. So, the lesser critters could be hit anywhere, but the larger creatures needed blows to the head. Then their leader attacked. Furious at the destruction of its underlings, the creature knew that it had to destroy this boy and his strange staff, and that girl in the boat as well, or all would be lost.

Unlike its cohorts, which had been sent to this valley, this beast knew magic when it saw it. The boy blazed with it, especially his staff. The girl was blindingly brilliant, with more power in her than the beast really cared to know about. They had to be disposed of right away. Taking a deep breath, the huge beast fired a torrent of acid towards the boy. Maybe he could block physical attacks with that staff, but how was he going to manage something like this, eh?

Not surprisingly, Syrus was thinking much the same thing. There was only one thing he figured would help him, so praying it did what he had been told it did, the boy held up his left hand to show the ring. A transparent dome appeared around him a moment later, sending the acid washing harmlessly into the unused dirt. The beast reared back. What sort of foul abilities did this boy possess!? It was like the Aesar themselves had given him his powers!?

Seeing the beast rear back in confusion, however, Syrus decided not to delay. Running forward, he got much closer to the beast, only to be thrown backwards by a punch (or was it a kick?) from one of the beast’s limbs he hadn’t been able to react to in time. Hitting the ground hard, the boy tumbled over a few times before righting himself and getting back to his feet.

Legends always talked about how strong heroes were, and how even mortal as they usually were, they could take so much punishment. Nonsense, the boy figured. These beasts hit, and they hit hard. Nobody could take much punishment from it.

Throw the staff towards the creature.

Syrus blinked. Oh, just great, more voices in his head. Like he really needed that. Well, it was better than nothing. Grasping his handy stick by its base, the boy began whirling around. When he felt he had enough speed, the boy used the skill he’d picked up in throwing contests and let go of the staff. It whirled through the air, striking the creature dead in the face. True to its nature, it didn’t even bend, but instead became enveloped in silver fire and cut straight through the massive beast.

“Nice.” The boy said as the staff came back through the creature’s chest, flames dying out right before it came back to his hand. “It’s even got a self-returning feature. Beat that, magic swords!” The beast let out a terrible scream as the strangely colored flames worked through it. No small little gem appeared from the creature, however. This time, a shimmering green crystal floated above the ground. Syrus advanced on it very carefully, tapping it with his stick a few times before placing a hand on it. The crystal vanished into the gem on his gauntlet.

Turning around, the boy saw the entire village standing there, watching him.

“Uh… hi.” He said, at a loss for what to say. The Mayor, his father, calmly stepped forward. Syrus swallowed nervously. “WellIwasreallycuriousaboutwhathappeedlastnightsoI—“ he rapidly began.

“SLOW DOWN.” The Mayor ordered. Syrus took a deep breath. Yes, yes, slow down. Slow was good. Sloooooooooow…

“I was really curious about what happened last night, so I went to the Shrine earlier and stumbled across this telepathic rock that gave me a bunch of things and charged me with taking care of that girl in the boat back there.” The townsfolk nodded. “And it gave me a bunch of items to do that with, including this unbreakable walking staff.” The townsfolk nodded again. “She’s something called an Aesari.” At this, the oldest people in the village, plus the Mayor, froze. Syrus discreetly checked behind him. Nope, nothing. So it was what he’d said this time.

“Aesari?” the Mayor said softly. “I see. So she’s the one the legends mention.” He beckoned to several of the children, and they ran up to Syrus with a leather bag. Opening it, the boy found all the gems the creatures had dropped. That made sense; they were probably quite valuable, but the village of Kaltar didn’t actually use currency. They had nobody to trade with, and the place was very small, so they just helped each other out as necessary. The bag vanished into his gauntlet. “Syrus, my son…” the Mayor said, walking forward to place his hands on the boy’s shoulders. “Listen to me. Protect that girl with your life. Whatever you do, make sure she remains out of the hands of anybody who wishes to use her powers for selfish reasons. If she really is an Aesari, and they find out…”

“Uh, pops? What is an Aesari?” Syrus interrupted. Would anybody give him an answer. “And what are the Aesar?”

“The Aesar, Syrus, are Gods. Old Gods, and more powerful than either of us can possibly imagine. The legends, those we know, tell us that they lie sleeping somewhere in this world, until the time that the Telsar, the newer Gods, are forced away by the hands of fate. The Aesari are the children of the Aesar, Syrus, and while not as powerful, they are still divine in their own right. I have no doubts that the girl waiting for you in the boat will determine the future of our world. Go with her, Syrus, and protect her.”

Syrus swallowed. Suddenly, this seemed a lot more serious.

000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000

Files of the Aesari, Part One:

Shara’s Staff, currently in the possession and use of Syrus Markal of Kaltar, this gnarled wooden staff is an immensely powerful item, once used by the Aesar known as Shara. Its most notable feature is the fact that this staff cannot be broken, no matter how hard it is struck. It refuses to even chip, infused as it is with divine power. In order to protect the user, Shara also added in a powerful spell that negated the impact to the user. This, even a mortal could wield this staff and stop blows without having their arms torn off. To one striking the staff, it is like hitting a wall that refuses to even crack.

The staff itself is mostly nondescript. Unlike other popular magical items, at first glance this particular item seems like an entirely normal staff. It has a long, thick base for support, a rather natural bark-like texture for easy gripping, and an iron tip. Its simplistic appearance, however, hides far more powers.

The iron tip is used as the focal point for the immense powers that rest inside of the staff. Described by those who have seen it as “Silver Fire”, Shara’s Staff possesses the ability to destroy those it is struck with, on the condition the user is actually using the staff for offense. While normally emitted on contact, these mysterious flames can also surround the staff when it is thrown, allowing the staff to shear through even the strongest, largest creatures. As he did not like having to walk so far to pick it up, Shara made the staff so it would return to the hand of the thrower instead of falling to the ground.

It is thought among members of the Holy Church of the Falkar Empire that Shara’s Staff has many more abilities… these have yet to be revealed, however.

00000

Demon Crystals, as they are known, are mysterious gems dropped when dark creatures are destroyed. Nobody is entirely sure where they come from, why they are there, or what their point is. Scholars have noted, however, that such items are very potent when used in magic, and as a result these crystals fetch a high price from stores, who in turn sell them to collectors, noble ladies, and magic-users across the world.

That’s not to say they are common, however; the gems are extremely rare, fetching upwards of a hundred gold pieces each.