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22 short stories based on the tarot's major trumps. |
| It was known as the Chariot of the Gods. It was a rock formation on a hill not far from Amun, and it did resemble a chariot made for a very large man; the rocks before it were often associated with the horses which had drawn it. According to some it had belonged to Mannha, the Lord of the Inferno; according to others it had been made for Faeros, his son. Some believed that it had belonged to the Six-Winged Lord and that it was the vessel in which he had descended upon the world in the Elder Ages. Many regarded it as a holy place, and although the Order of the Seven Realms dismissed this as superstition, even its Brothers could not deny that it possessed a strongly magical aura. Those who visited the site often reported having had peculiar dreams, or being cured of some malady, or even being overcome by some inexplicable bliss. The Chariot drew many people to its site; people of all ages and from all over Ava, but although many travelled days to see it, few dared make camp and sleep nearby. Instead people stayed within the walls of Amun at night, or just outside them. The city was always ringed by many tents in equally many colours, and its trade thrived by it. It was an enigma even to the members of the House of Faeros, and while many spoke of visiting the site none of them had ever done so. The mystery was particularly tantalising to Prince Cairon, heir of High King Baralach, who had grown up within the walls of the city and had spent many days listening to the traveller's tales. His behaviour greatly vexed his tutors, who could not persuade the young man to take an interest in other matters. Eventually the day came when Cairon begged leave of his father to go to the site, and despite the counsel of many against it he would not be dissuaded. Cairon was accompanied by his younger brother Mírean and forty mounted knights besides. They rode out of the city in shining armour with their banners high, a company of which the glory could only be surpassed by an army of Aeghi, the champions of the gods. They rode for the Chariot at dawn and reached it at midday, and Cairon dismounted to study it more closely. He passed around the formation several times, then he sat himself on the sun-warmed stone for a while. He paced around it again, his fingers tracing lines in the rock face. After some time he sat down a little way off and stared at it. No matter his efforts, at dusk no visions had come to him and no miracles had passed. Disheartened and furious, he ordered his company to set up camp at the foot of the hill. Most of the men took this in good spirits, but Mírean, who had opposed the venture from the onset, spoke against his brother stating that the company had not been prepared properly to stay afield for more than a day. Cairon infuriately proclaimed that he was more than happy to sleep under the stars, but any and all who were unwilling were welcome to return to the city unpunished. Mírean left in the company of thirteen knights, but the others remained faithful and so Cairon went to sleep by the hill of the Chariot as the stars came out. It was the dead of night when he woke and found himself drawn to the top of the hill again, and he answered the strange call without waking anyone. There was a faint yellow light from behind the Chariot. Cairon walked to it to inspect it, thinking that it might be a campfire, but once on the other side he found that the light came from an opening in the rock, just large enough for him to pass through. He squeezed into the opening and found himself in a tunnel sloping gently downwards, the walls of which glimmered as if set with many precious gems. He followed the path until he came into a small cavern. In the centre stood a broken chariot; its surface covered in intricately worked gold detailing the heroics of battles long forgotten. Cairon walked to it, staring at it in awe for a while before getting into it and running his hands along the sides, reaching for imaginary reins. He closed his eyes and when he opened them again he was outside in the sunshine, holding the reins with which he held six impatient grey stallions under control. "Be careful, Irean!" his father called to him. Faeros stood a little way away in the company of his eldest son Elrean, smiling broadly at his youngest son. "Don't worry, father, I'll be fine!" he called back. "I shall take wing, and fetch the sun itself as proof!" Elrean grinned at him. "Perhaps you should start with the lesser challenge of controlling your chariot first, before father's stallions run away with you." "Are we not sons of the gods?" he called back grandly. "Were we not made lords of the land and the sea? Why not the sky also?" "Because horses do not fly, Irean," Faeros said to him. "Now be careful where you ride." "They will fly, if I tell them to!" he called, and with that he rode away boldly, watched by his worried father and brother. He rode over the hills around Amun, going ever faster until he was no more than a flash of radiant gold to those who looked on. He sought higher reaches and steeper slopes until at last he came to a high hill with a steep rock face towering over the hills beneath. The stallions, tiring now with their long gallop, started to protest. They tugged on the reins trying to go this way and that but Irean, mad with excitement, urged them on towards the steep drop to the lands below. "Fly!" he cried. "Fly to the sun and the stars and the halls of the gods beyond!" With that the horses leapt and for a moment they flew through the air, ascending the heavens and reaching for the sun. It looked as if they would take wing and fly, but when they sought footing to land, they found only air; and horses, chariot, and charioteer came crashing to the hills below like a daytime shooting star. Cairon opened his eyes and felt himself getting sick. He leaned heavily on the chariot, then he swooned. Now he was Elrean, running after his grief-stricken father towards the chariot and the broken bodies about it. He stood quietly as his father took Irean's lifeless body into his arms and let out a sorrowful cry before sobbing uncontrollably. Elrean took his brother from his father's arms and returned to the city, where he had the body prepared for burial. Irean was mourned for twelve days by all those who dwelt in the city, and after that period he was entombed in a crypt newly made in the palace. Faeros grieved for his son much longer and, overcome with inconsolable heartbreak, he sped to join his army to the north, which had been fighting to keep the roaming forces of the Lord of the Dark away. He became ever more reckless in his pursuits, until at last it came to a great battle and he himself was slain. Elrean, now High King, slew the dragon whose fire had consumed his father and drove the remaining forces far away. He had his father's remains entombed on the plain where he had fallen. He returned to the city of Amun and spent some time in mourning before going to visit the site of his brother's demise. It seemed to him that the unfortunate incident was to blame for his father's death, and that the chariot was the cause of all misfortune which had so recently befallen his house. He laid his hands on the remains of the chariot, which had been untouched since Irean's fall, and turned it into stone; speaking the wish that it may bring others more fortune than it had his house, and divining the ill fate of those of his own house who would seek it thereafter. Cairon's men found him lying in the stone chariot when they came searching for him the next morning and when they attempted to wake him he stirred and sat up, his eyes distant and his face blank. For a brief moment he sat like that, then he burst into tears. Seven days and seven nights he wept, watched over by his faithful companions. On the eighth day he rose and took his men back to Amun, telling all those who would listen of his visions until he returned at last to the palace and his father the king. Once more he told his story before his father's court. King Baralach was moved to believe him, but Mírean declared his brother a madman, mocking the elder prince's tale and saying that he was unfit to rule. He reminded the nobility of Cairon's seven days of weeping, and claimed to be better fit for kingship himself. This divided the court of Baralach, until the king had no choice but to decree that his kingdom would be divided into two after his death, leaving an equal share to both his sons. Cairon, humbled and humiliated, left the city and took for his royal seat the palace of Lanthiel and ordered the abandonment of Amun once his father had died. From his abode in Lanthiel he predicted that the city would crumble to dust and the kingdom would fall before a king of the House of Faeros would ever sit upon its throne again, and this doom lay upon the House of Faeros ever after. |
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