Back to Contests

Ardrak by Hallen

Runner Up for February 2005

The young dracnari boy stood at the window looking out on the bustling economy
of the newborn city. He watched as a team of taurian marched by carrying long
blocks of newly cut lumber as a supervising orclach barked instructions at
them. All the way to horizon the city stretched out before him, a hive of busy
activity as all order of races moved through the newly paved winding streets,
all busy with some bureaucratic or construction business. Many of the buildings
were either partially built or barely started at all, showing their brick or
wooden innards like some kind of giant stripped corpse. The smell of sawdust
was prevalent, as were the busy sounds of industry: voices shouting and crying
out orders, winches and wheels squeaking noisily at their frequent use, the
sawing of wood being shaped into blocks and strips of the right size and
thickness, and far off the ring of a hammer striking metal in a far-off forge.
The young boy looked out at the newborn city of Magnagora, and felt the
unfamiliar stirrings of pride in his heart.
"Ardrak?" A deep voice sounded from behind him, and he turned quickly to face
his father who had quietly entered his lavishly decorated room. Ketsaco, a
highly-renowned and well-placed politician within the new Magnagoran state, was
not known for his joviality. Everything about him was reserved and strictly
regulated, from his political dealings, to his family relations to his outer
appearance. Now he regarded his only son with an unreadable expression.
Ardrak inclined his head slightly. "Yes Father?"
"Your tutor is waiting in the parlor downstairs for you, best if you got to
your lessons on time"
"Yes Father." He bowed formally and left, heading down to meet with his tutor
for his daily lessons. Ardrak was a quick study and mastered most concepts
taught to him easily, but it never seemed to interest him. It all just seemed
to be rote, it never was interesting, it had all been done before. That seemed
to be his entire life in one sentence. He had conviction for very little, not
many things moved him. The settling of a brand new city had kindled his
enthusiasm for a while, but the thrill would soon fade, he knew, and he'd
settle back into the monotony of a privileged life.

* * *

The now young man Ardrak gazed around the vast subterranean chamber where the
council meeting was taking place. He guessed this was a Geomancer's idea, as he
didn't care for the cold, dank, and poorly lit chamber, with tiered rows of
seats facing a speaker's pedestal in the center of the circular room. Many of
the now well established city's political and scientific elite were gathered
here. A Fatalist Ardrak didn't recognize walked up to the podium and addressed
the crowd without preamble.
"Leaders of Magnagora. I come before you today to bring to light the challenge
that lies before our fine city. As the Holy Celestine Empire takes shape, so too
has its greatest cities. And we are among them. We are the home of the
Geomancers, Fatalists, and the Master Prophets. Our people have mastered the
Elemental Plane of Earth, and the Cosmic Plane of Shallamar. We can no longer
rely on temporary gates which waste precious energy to traverse the multiverse.
We must forge our own nexus, with paths to both Earth and Shallamar, with all
haste." A round of polite applause followed his short speech. He spoke up
again, interjecting into the murmuring that had sprung up around the room. "If
there are any here that are willing to spearhead the designing of our nexus,
stand and state your name for the council."
Ardrak's head snapped up. This is what he had been waiting for. His life over
the last few years had been a fog of torpid luxury, with a few brief bursts of
interest. Finally here was something unique that he could create, that he could
contribute. He all but leapt to his feet, stepping forward, saying, "Ardrak, son
of Count Ketsaco. I shall design the nexus for you."
Once again a low murmur of voices swept through the room. The Fatalist
addressed him with a touch of deference in his voice. "And how would you be
qualified to perform this most sacred task?"
"I am highly skilled in many high magic and ritualistic arts, and have studied
planar physics at the Hallifax Research Institute for several years. If anyone
can pull this off, it will be me."
"Very well. We shall have a vote. In the matter concerning Ardrak taking on
the position of chief architect of the nexus of Magnagora, how does the council
vote? All in favor?"
An overwhelming chorus of yeas echoed through the chamber. "In that case you
shall be henceforward known as Ardrak, Architect of the Nexus. Any personnel
and resources you need to assist you in this endeavor are yours for the
taking."
Ardrak gave a rare smile and nodded. "I won't let you down."

* * *

Ardrak bent over the parchment before him, scrawling rapidly with his eagle
feather quill, filling the already ink filled page with yet another
calculation. He reached over and pulled the sputtering candle closer to him to
give himself more light. Glancing up he saw that the wick was almost burnt down
to the brass holder, and sighing, he cricked his neck from side to side then
glance around the room for a new candle. The small room he had been lodging in
was in complete disarray. Papers cluttered the floor, overflowed chairs and
covered the spartan features of the room. A meal tray…no make that two meal
trays, sat on his bed untouched, and Ardrak had no idea when the last time he
had slept was. It wasn't important. He had felt a fire burning in him since he
started this work and was happier than any time he could remember. He knew now
that this was what he had been born to do. The nexus seemed to grow and build
itself in his mind's eye, and seemed closer to him than any family member. He
even had a name for it, one that would please both the Fatalists and
Geomancers. He reached into an open drawer, drew out a fresh candle, lit it
from the other's dying wax, and turned back to his work.

* * *

The entire city had turned out to see the raising of the Stone of Truth, and
the streets around the center square of the city overflowed into back streets
and alleyways with anxious onlookers. Ardrak and a number of seasoned
ritualists were gathered with him in a complex series of pentacles laid out in
the center of the square. He glanced down, checking the intricate ritual weaved
throughout the pentacles he had been devising the last several months. He was
wearing a brand new set of robes in black, with vestments and a sash dyed red
with golden symbols woven into them. Honorary Fatalist garments, he was told.
He had finally gotten a full meal into his stomach, bathed, and had a full
night's sleep. He felt much better both for that and being so close to seeing
the fruit's of his endeavor finally. At a signal they each took up their
positions. Raising his arms to the heavens Ardrak began chanting in a loud
harsh voice. The others took up his cry and they began channeling their
energies into the central circle of the working, where a lone pebble sat.
Ardrak felt a planar gate open, bypassing the Ethereal and opening straight to
the Earth plane, and then another above it to Shallamar. Energies from the two
planes were safely kept at bay and the gates were held rock steady in place.
The pebble began to glow a jade color, and suddenly sprouted up into a massive
stone rooted to the ground in a fountain of aetheric power, pure white in color
and decorated with numerous swirls of condensed magic. A large portion of
aetheric power was infused into the stone directly from the working, and the
planar gates contorted and warped until they were contained within the Stone
itself. The working faded from the ground and the ritualists lowered their
hands and voices, exhausted from the mental effort that had gone into the work.
An earth-shaking cheer went up from the populous, who immediately went about
gathering as much power as possible to fill their new found nexus and a few had
already disappearing in flashes light along the planar paths. A great
celebration was to occur later that night, but Ardrak would not be joining in
the festivities. He faded into the background, feeling the empathic link he had
for his nexus thrumming deep within him, and knew true contentment.

* * *

Ardrak, Keeper of the Megalith, reached out and touched his nexus, feeling a
current of energy flow into his warped and twisted body, and he sensed the
massive reserves held within it. As he watched the never ending bustle of the
city passed him, some stopping by the Megalith to learn from him, to contribute
or draw power from it, or to travel to the tainted plane of Earth or the cosmic
plane of Nil. Things had changed now; the essence of Kethuru pervaded his city,
his nexus, and him. But that mattered little, as long as his nexus stood still.