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LORD ORI
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THE WALLS SEALED THEMSELVES shut behind them with an echoing roar. When the last trace of outside light died, a new one came to life. Crystals glowed around them, washing the shadows away in an emerald wave of light. Behind them, Griffin spied streaks of magma burning too far off to provide any comforting warmth. Where the previous room had been filled and felt hollow, this one was hollow but felt suffocatingly full. In place of cobweb-covered gemstones and ornamental metals, this room contained nothing but a polished dirt floor. The other room held pretence. This one held power, tangible purpose.
Through the vast emptiness surrounding them, the lord began to speak.
“You do realise that withholding information from the council in a trial is a felony,” said Lord Ori. His booming voice shook small pebbles from their notches in the walls.
“I do, my lord,” Griffin replied, knowing better than to lie to the great and powerful head councilman of the Harri Provinces. “I do so not without having weighed the consequences.”
“This information must be valuable, then.”
“It is, and I am told you are the only one I can trust.”
Lord Ori stroked his peppered beard as he paced calmly about the floor, but the floor trembled just the same. His bare calloused feet had a distinct earthquake-provoking quality about them. This heaviness and power extended to the rest of his body as well.
“Help you? I thought you claimed to be helping us?” Lord Ori laughed. “What is it a young Izar like yourself should seek from an old Harri like me?”
“Answers, my lord,” Griffin replied, cautious of the lord’s reactions. He knew that if Lord Ori so wanted, he would be buried under a mountain’s worth of rock before he could blink. Lord Ori paused, and so too did the trembling earth. He waited like a dormant volcano, patient and expecting. Griffin cleared his throat and spoke once more. “Regarding long forgotten things.”
“Long forgotten things are most often found in the realm of your people, not so?” The lord raised a bushy black eyebrow above his glowing jade eye. “They have stripped the lands bare of anything that might have caused them difficulties in their leadership.”
“My people are not aware of these activities. They are the strict business of the Ris.”
“The Ris?” Lord Ori replied with the feigned taste of curiosity on his lips. After a moment of silence, he laughed. “It has been quite some time since that name has been spoken within these walls. I believe the last person to speak it was your father, long before you were even thought of. He had a knack for landing himself in these... inconvenient situations.” Noticing Griffin’s discomfort, he grinned. “So... to hide from the Izar, to be on the heels of war, to invoke the stones, and above all, to come asking favours of me? You have quite the mess on your hands.” He stomped on the ground and raised a seat of pure rock for him to sit on as he contemplated Griffin’s request. “Lady Amaia is fond of you. Or at least sympathetic to your plight.”
“Yes, my lord.”
“She was fond of your mother, from what I remember.” Griffin nodded, unable to bring himself to speak of his mother and hardly wishing to remember her. “The world was a much simpler place back then. No mafias, no uprisings, no lack of morality. People prayed to the spirits and worked for their bread. There were still wars, of course, but over much more trivial matters. Which village should get which plot of land, which man should take which wife, which brother should be king...” He sighed heavily. “The legends, contrary to popular belief, did not have as much bearing over the world as they do now. Do you not agree, young Izar?”
“I do, my lord.”
“I have seen many things in my life, young Izar. Many of which I could have happily lived without seeing. I must admit, however, that I never thought I would live to see the day that history repeated itself. I must truly be old.” He let out a sobering, bittersweet laugh. “I imagine your father told you of the last time the stones were a topic of discussion.”
“Not in detail, but I am familiar with the story.”
Lord Ori frowned. “Then you will also be familiar with the ending.” Griffin nodded. After an extended period of silence and introspection, Lord Ori cleared his throat and contemplated Griffin’s eyes. His glare had a tangible force to it, like rods poking into the skin. “Sometimes the answers we seek bring us more pain than comfort, and sometimes the way to achieve those answers brings us more questions. I suppose that is the beauty in it all... in this wonderful game we call life. At the end of the day, to live is to survive, and surviving is nothing more than living to see another day. Are you sure you wish for answers, young Izar?”
“I’m afraid, my lord, I have no choice,” Griffin replied, meeting his gaze without resistance. “There is one in my company who I believe you are already acquainted with, though you may hesitate to remember her. It is she that urged me to make this journey, and on her behalf that I seek your help.”
“And who might that be, my boy?”
“Princess Savara, daughter of Queen Anissa of Osiir, last heir to the Argia throne.”
Lord Ori’s face went a shade of white not previously known to man. A deafening silence settled over them, leaving only the slight murmur of two out-of-sync heartbeats.
“I must admit, part of me was still clinging to the idea that you might be pulling an old man’s leg,” Lord Ori replied finally. “So, what you said is true, then. About the attack, about the stones, about them...” Griffin nodded silently. In response, Lord Ori slammed a fist into the solid wall of rock behind him with a sudden fury that made Griffin’s heart skip a beat. The entire mountain trembled as a tunnel bore itself straight through to the light outside. “I have hoped, for many years, that this day would never come, though I acknowledge that it was my own reckless action that brought it about.” He frowned. “The Argia princess, the shadows...” Lord Ori sighed. “You certainly have an interesting deck to play with, my boy.”
“These are merely the cards I was dealt. I just know, albeit better than most, when to play them.”
“Let’s hope, for both our sakes, that there are no more surprises in that curious hand of yours, young Izar.” Lord Ori smiled, but his eyes still held a grimness that he and Griffin shared. “Take me to your friend.”
