Qyro nodded. “I’m pretty sure they would
have had more than enough rest by now. If the conch is held safely
with the Nyon, why haven’t we sounded it and summoned-”
“As I said,” Mantra cut across them, the
pained look in his eyes deepening. “Here is the most tragic part of
the entire story.” He heaved a quiet sigh. “You see, the Grael
conch was meant to be preserved. By us, by the Nyon, so that when
the time came for good to resist the uprising of evil again, the
conch could be sounded, and the army of watchmen could be released.
We were meant to protect and keep it safe with us. It was our
foremost and most sacred duty, one entrusted by Elderon again. But
alas … it was a duty we failed in.”
“Failed in?” gasped Vestra, looking close to
aghast.
“You mean the conch is … gone?” asked Qyro
silently.
“But how?” asked Ion.
“The Nyon had been greatly weakened after
the Naxim’s stand against mystics. And in the pitiful state that we
were pitted in at the time, we were piled with more worries than we
were meant to be.” Mantra’s eyes drifted out of focus, gazing into
the distance. “Though the war was won, and the world was free, we,
the Nyon, had just entered a gravely chaotic phase for ourselves.
We were faced with threats from all sides, and amidst it, trying to
keep the brotherhood alive. Amidst all the woes, the Grael conch
was given a feebler protection than it was meant to. It was our
greatest fault yet.” His voice grew heavy. “
My
greatest
fault yet.”
He continued to gaze into the distance in a
heavy silence. Vestra took a step forward and patted the elderly
man consolingly.
“It would be wrong for you to claim full
responsibility for it, master.” she consoled him softly. “It isn’t
your fault.”
Mantra’s white eyes focussed on her, and he
nodded. “Thank you, Vestra.” He walked a few steps forward,
continuing to look past the forests beyond. “I thought I was doing
the best there was needed to keep the conch safe. I installed a
system that I believed was failproof in guarding our most precious
asset. I entrusted the conch to a line of Nyon called as the conch
keepers. It was a line of
secret
members, and they were
never to reveal their identities, for I believed that, though we
were safer from infiltration from the Xeni than before, this
knowledge was
far
too sacred to merely fling about. Even
among the Nyon themselves. And yes, I did believe that we were not
completely free from infiltration, though it looked such. I knew I
had to keep myself vigilant for the return of our most dreaded
enemy.” He paused, and then turned to face the three of them. “The
line spawned from master to student. A master would, after keeping
the conch safe through his days, hand it down to his student. And
so it went on … until, I believe, one of them was caught and
executed by the Naxim.”
Vestra gave a sharp gasp, while Qyro shook
his head heavily.
“And I think,” went on Mantra, seeming to
push every word out of him. “The conch … was
destroyed
at
that instance by the Naxim, who failed to know what it was, or even
bother to find out. We were sure of that. But if it wasn’t
destroyed, the conch was never to be heard of again.”
The three of them stood there, feeling the
weight of his words press upon them silently.
“We failed in our duty.” said Mantra in the
same tone. “Our most sacred one. And the price for that weighs upon
us now. We failed to protect the weapon of Elderon himself. And
that is the reason today, Elderon has fallen. And Mezmeron
rises.”
A short silence pervaded, whereupon the
sorrow of everything they had had just heard seemed to survive as a
lingering echo.
“But in order to release Mezmeron’s forces,”
said Ion. “they have to bring the anarchy in this realm to its
peak, right?”
“Yes, anarchy is the force of Mezmeron.”
Mantra nodded. “The demon army, being creations of Mezmeron, need
anarchy to feed them and to allow them to thrive. And so, in order
to use the crystal to release Mezmeron’s wretched army, the Xeni
first need to make this world a trove of anarchy, Mezmeron’s blood.
Only then would it be conducive for the release of the demons.”
“So that’s what they’re upto now.” Qyro
said.
“What?” asked Mantra, turning to look at
him.
“You said they were behind two terrorist
attacks just earlier on. So
that
was the point of the
attacks, right? Raising the anarchy?”
Mantra’s gaze carried away from Qyro, into
the distance of the dark forest extending beyond them. He was
silent for a few seconds, thinking.
“I think the anarchy that they created from
the two attacks,” he said finally in a slow tone. “was just a
side effect
…”
“What do you mean?” asked Vestra.
Mantra was frowning, his gaze ponderous. “I
think they were doing it with the intention of accomplishing
something. But what that something is, I can’t tell for sure.” His
voice faded, but he continued to frown, clearly still robed deep in
thought.
“You mean they had an intention behind the
two attacks?” asked Vestra, her head tilted. “But … what could it
be?”
Mantra didn’t answer, and continued to gaze
past the distance in silence.
“So all we do now,” said Ion. “is just keep
the crystal safe here, away from them?”
Mantra turned to him, and a faint smile
flickered on his lips. “It’s all we can do … and, though I realise
this may sound harsh in the current climate, it’s all that we
should
do. If we go outside and risk trying to find them, or
stop them, we’re risking the most powerful force that’s left that
can stop them - us. Because the more we risk our necks, the
stronger we’re letting our enemies get. We have to keep ourselves
together and strong now. Because the Xeni are a real threat. But
the only thing that can challenge this threat is us, the Nyon. If
we make a falsely reasoned move, one reckless decision, and lose
our already lessened members, then we’re wasting the only resource
that’s left to protect the world at this hour. And we can’t do
that.”
He paused for a moment, and the look on his
face eased. “And what’s more, without the crystal, there’s nothing
left for them. Whatever they’re after, their
ultimate
goal
is definitely getting the crystal and releasing the demon army. So
in that sense, what we’re doing is what’s needed at the current
climate: we’re keeping the crystal as safe as can be here with us.
The Xeni have not the faintest clue of our location. Nor can they.
This, the Nyon temple, is the safest place for the crystal as of
now.”
As silence fell again, the three of them
were absorbed in their own thoughtful meanderings about everything
they had heard and seen. Ion looked past the dense greenery
spreading around them. Overhead, he spotted a gaggle of swan like
birds sail past the cloudy skies.
“How was it?” asked Qyro suddenly.
“What?” asked Mantra.
“The time of the evil empire.” said Qyro,
after a slight pause.
Something in the depths of Mantra’s eyes
darkened. “The worst possible time. The Xeni ruled over the
spectrum for three centuries. The three most chaotic centuries in
history. But the tyranny of their empire didn’t stop with the realm
of man beings … during their rule, the Xeni and their demon army
oppressed non man beings above all others. Some of the non man
beings’ species have been scarred terribly by their reign.”
“Like the Ensys.” said Ion, remembering the
Redling in the cruiser having told him this.
Mantra gave a slow nod. “Especially the
Ensys. They were the worst of the victims that Redgarn’s empire had
destroyed. They were driven far into the outer spectrum, into
hiding, and they are hard to come by even this day. They remember
the Xeni’s reign and hate them for it upto this day.” He heaved a
deep sigh, his voice now softer. “Their empire was broken, and
Redgarn and the captured Xeni were left to die in the prison
Taurandor. It brought about the end of the single darkest age in
our spectrum’s history. And our greatest duty, is to guard it from
ever happening again.” He stuffed his hand into his pocket and
withdrew the crystal again. “If you had failed to acquire the
crystal … there could not have been a greater catastrophe that the
one which would have passed.”
Ion felt a shudder pass him at the tone in
which he spoke.
“Earlier on, you mentioned something called
a
mystical tablet
.” said Vestra. “A powerful instrument in
the realm of mystics, which Redgarn and his men used to conjure the
demon army, in their days of exile.”
“Yes.” said Mantra.
“What is that?” asked Vestra.
Ion realised that he, too, had never heard
of such a thing before.
A mystical tablet.
Mantra thought for a second, before giving
the three of them a curt nod.
“Let me show you.”
He turned and strode off the way he had
come, and the three of them, with a quick glance at each other,
followed him.
__________
As they walked down the corridors again, Ion
thought he would never tire of admiring them. Mantra swept down the
hall ahead of them in a brisk stride, the three others tailing him
from behind. They were now in the third storey of the large
structure, and they occasionally came across other cloaked masters
who bowed at Mantra and smiled or nodded at them as the group of
them passed.
The master paused before one of the doorways
on the right of the corridor and gave it a gentle push. The door
swung open to reveal a large room very much like that of the elder
council’s. But they saw a large table like object sitting at the
centre of the large empty room. Its surface was completely smooth
and polished, and it was raised on one thick large leg that was as
wide as a tree trunk. Mantra walked upto the large object and
turned to the three of them, who stood there at the doorway.
“This,” he said, placing a hand on the
surface of the large table. “is a mystical tablet.”
“This is what Redgarn and the Xeni used to
unleash the demon army?” asked Qyro, his eyes drawing wide as he
looked at the tablet.
Mantra gave a wave of his hand. “Of course
not. This is not the only mystical tablet in existence. There are
many of them and the one Redgarn used was different.”
The three of them walked before the large
table like object, in front of Mantra.
“What does it do?” asked Ion.
“A mystical tablet,” said Mantra. “is an
instrument used to amplify a mystic’s powers, allowing him to
perform a certain powerful feat, or a
spell
as they call
them. Spells of a greatly powerful nature, which can’t be handled
single handedly by a person, can be performed through a mystical
tablet, which enhances the power of the spell and unleashes it. But
the extent to which the spell is enhanced depends on the power of
the tablet.”
“You mean it amplifies a mystic’s power when
he uses it,” summed up Vestra. “and lets him perform powerful
spells?”
“Yes.” said Mantra. “There are spells that
require a greatly powerful mystical energy. And the energy for it
is supplied from the tablet, channelled through the mystic who uses
it. But the energy provided for the spell varies from tablet to
tablet. And as a result, the power with which the spell is
unleashed also varies from tablet to tablet.”
“So the outcome of the spell depends on the
tablet on which it’s being performed?” asked Qyro, folding his
hands before him.
Mantra nodded. “Yes. In other words, the
more powerful the tablet, the more powerful is the spell unleashed
through it. Tablets come in differing power ranges. And if a
particular tablet is really powerful, so will the spell that is
performed through it be.”
He slid his hands behind his back and slowly
walked around the tablet. “The mystical tablets were instruments
crafted by the earliest mystics who walked this spectrum. During
the time of the Nyon, they were well known and used. The
brotherhood itself used the spells for certain measures. The
mystical tablets were nothing short of gifts to us. And they were
sacred, and so were the means in which we used them” A frown
creased his brow. “The very thought that the Xeni had violated the
sacredness of a tablet by unleashing such
dark
spells on
It.” He heaved a tragic sigh. “It was the very worst that we could
have dreamt of. The tablets were meant to be used for good
purposes, and for amplifying spells of
good
, noble nature.
Not those borne of the twisted dark arts that the Xeni had
performed.”
“How’d the Xeni manage such a thing?” asked
Vestra, running her hand over the flawless surface of the tablet.
“To channel the spirit of Mezmeron, and create an entire army out
of it. And that too, such a powerful army … an army of
demons
?”
“What you need to understand first,” said
Mantra. “is that Redgarn was no ordinary mystic.” a long forgotten
darkness seemed to pervade his features as he said it. “He was a
very powerful mystic. A very powerful
dark
mystic. And even
among mystics, only very few know the art of performing spells. Not
all mystics are well versed with that particular art of the mystic
mind. Performing spells requires an indepth study of another
segment of these arts. And Redgarn had mastered that. He was the
greatest and most revered mystic of the day … and an even more
revered spellweaver. And upto this day, in the arts of
spellweaving,” He gave a shake of his head. “none can surpass him.
And none will.”