Dusklight Falling by Patch Kolan

Author:Patch Kolan [Kolan, Patch]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: dark fantasy/horror
Published: 2023-10-29T16:00:00+00:00

19

Championate

Up here, the air was gaspingly thin. Ice storms left gashes on even the smallest patches of exposed skin that froze before they had a chance to bleed.

Away and across the white-water of thrashing seas and high upon the snow-crusted alpine peaks of the Northern Sprawl, in a land so remote that no trace remained of the obscure, bygone path that led there, resided the chambers of the Oracular Magisterium of Nine. Permanently obscured in thick grey cumuli, even keenest eyes could not see the circular stone tower, a third artificial peak between two ice-hardened mountaintops.

In this way, long after the lands to the north shifted to the frozen wastes, the only possible access into the Magisterium’s solitudinous abode was remotely – or by express invitation via teleportation chamber.

The Sacred Championate opted for the latter, for as nauseously disorienting as the portal gate could be, it was far preferable to bleeding from the eyes, nose, ears.

The azure-lit portal disintegrated behind him with an electrical snap.

Before him, as with all other times, sat a semicircle of tall, dome-topped thrones of fine green malachite, shot through with pale white impurities – nine in total. These matched the nine towering twists of green marble pillars that supported a domed ceiling far above. At the base of each, a burning blue-orange hearth-fire, endlessly aflame, slowly consuming a vapour of magical energy drawn by some means from the ether.

Each of the nine Oracles assumed a similar posture; arms either in their laps or upon burgundy armrests, veiled faces further obscuring heads beneath cowls; backs pressed against the deep red leather of the throne-back that finished in an arc to match the top of the throne. Three marked by the golden ring of Sol, three silver crescents of the moon, three of the swirled black void.

How a grandiose space such as this could feel so deathly, the Sacred Championate could only attribute to its seemingly permanent inhabitants. Behind him, if he had dared to look, he would have seen an arched door. Aside from the portal, it was the only other means into or out of this space.

“Our Championate approaches.”

Solum Three spoke; the low, hushed voice of an elderly woman – but there was no way of knowing for sure if what sat concealed beneath the robes was even human. It was said they could inhabit human forms – or needed to – but what resided within, only they themselves knew.

“As always, I am at your service.” He knelt, the plate steel shifting and clattering as his knee impacted the thick, woven carpet runner.

Another voice: male, younger. He tensed at the unpleasant tone. He could feel their eyes watching his subservience and relishing it.

“Restate your commitment,” came another voice. “We wish to hear it.”

“As your designated Sacred Championate, I swear my sword and shield to the divine Oracular Magisterium of Nine. Through your counsel, I serve the needs of the realm. I uphold and defend the aspects of the Trine and in doing so, I protect the balance of the land.

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