Avendon 2

PART ONE - CHAPTER TWO
“Something must be done!”
Eltorin sat at the head of the council table, his gaze falling on each of the ten other councillors in turn. While most of them contained their emotions well, it was clear that they were all thinking along the same lines.
As the last echoes of the vociferous statement faded from the high-ceiling chamber, Eltorin turned his attention to the one who had spoken, silently bracing himself. Piercing black eyes stared almost defiantly back at him.
“Gilgorath, I think we are all in agreement. However-”
“Oh yes,” Gilgorath interrupted with a sneer. “Another repetition of how we cannot do anything about the situation within our own strength…”
“And it is true!” insisted Naleld, his blue-green eyes widening in earnest.
“So is that, then, the purpose of this council?” asked a cold, quiet voice. The man seated at the end of the table leaned forward slightly, his face starkly pale in contrast to his shimmering black hair. Eltorin shivered involuntarily as he met the steely blue eyes, which, while so similar in colour to Majandra’s, somehow failed to convey the warmth that hers did.
Vatas spoke again, bringing Eltorin’s attention back to the conversation at hand.
“As the First Avendi, have we merely been appointed to observe and yet do nothing?”
“So what do you propose we do, exactly?” questioned Eltorin sharply. The tone Vatas had taken grated on his nerves. He could hear the unspoken accusation; Eltorin, as the first Avendi created by Amoir and therefore leader of the council, was supposed to have all the answers and make all the right decisions.
Vatas was silent for a moment, a small, humourless smile on his lips. “That…” he said slowly, “is for the council to decide.”
And are you part of this council or not? Eltorin thought in frustration. He held a calm expression, however, and turned to the councillors who had not yet said anything.
“Then I pose the question to the council. What should we do to address the increasing level of earthquakes –?”
“It isn’t just that, anymore,” said Urmus, fixing his small, yellow eyes on Eltorin. “The mountains around my home have begun erupting with fire –”
“And,” added Werithon apologetically, “great waves have formed from the sea and flooded our coasts, destroying fields upon fields of lyphide plants.”
Eltorin nodded solemnly. “How do we counter such things?”
It was Quarem who decided to answer, speaking slowly and deliberately – necessary due to the deepness of his voice.
“We may not have strength enough-”
Eltorin was sure that he heard a soft laugh from Werithon. He could see the humour in this instance – of the eleven, Quarem was the tallest and the strongest. To hear him speak of not having ‘strength enough’… At any other time, Eltorin would have smiled.
“- but Amoir does,” continued the red-headed man, apparently oblivious to the joke at his expense. “Should He not be consulted in this matter?”
“And how many more will die as He continues to do nothing?”
Eltorin flinched. Even without seeing who had spoken, Eltorin knew that it had been Iakash. The anger and bitterness in his voice was unmistakable. Unfortunately, Eltorin knew the reason behind it all too well. Iakash’s wife had been killed a few days ago, in the most severe of the ‘quakes. But his grief went even deeper than that, because his wife had been pregnant.
Eltorin could only imagine what the younger man was going through. It hadn’t taken much effort to see how much Iakash and Tiaiae had loved each other. To lose the one thing that meant everything to him… and then on top of that, the unborn child who promised to bring so much joy and happiness…
Eltorin had no idea how he would react to such tragedy.
“Iakash, place the blame where it belongs. The beast is what has caused you pain. Do not grant the Asmondth further victory by holding Amoir responsible.”
Eltorin blinked in surprise, turning slowly to look at the man sitting directly to his right. Grey eyes, flecked ever-so-slightly with blue, returned his gaze calmly. For a moment Eltorin reflected that it was strange how Kaloiel appeared so much older than the rest of the councillors, even Eltorin himself; his hair was more silver than blonde lately, and his eyes held a depth of knowledge and understanding that was lost on the rest of them.
“Such wise counsel…” drawled Gilgorath, his expression loaded with contempt. Eltorin felt anger bubble up in the pit of his stomach. Kaloiel generally said very little, but when he did speak it was to provide valuable insight into whatever situation was facing the council. To ignore his words merely because they were not to your taste, or indeed, to dismiss them through sarcastic remarks as Gilgorath had just done…
“It is, actually,” Eltorin said coolly, “and you would do well to keep a civil tongue while this council is in session.”
“Of course.” Gilgorath bowed his head in acquiescence, although the gesture was still somewhat mocking. “My apologies.”
The room was quiet for a few seconds. “Perhaps,” ventured Balaan, the strawberry-blonde who was sitting between Werithon and Quarem further along the table, “we could negotiate with the Asmondth.” All of a sudden the tension in the room became almost palpable, and he added, “Or the Amoir could for us. Sometimes a more peaceful approach can be the best option?”
Eltorin smiled gently. “The only problem is that the beast would like to see us all dead, so we don’t really have anything to negotiate with.” Eltorin had asked Amoir the same question about a year ago, when the earthquakes had first started. It turned out that the great battle between the two immortal beings had been sparked by controversy over who and what would populate Avendon. Obviously, Amoir had conquered, and he had created the eleven Avendi councillors and their wives. Naturally, the Asmondth resented everything to do with Amoir’s creation, and now it seemed that he would go to any length to see them all destroyed.
“Why don’t we just kill the beast, then?” came the suggestion from Rilkas. “I mean, it can be killed, right? Amoir confined it to a physical body when he bound it within Avendon’s core, so it can die?”
“That doesn’t mean that it isn’t still very powerful,” interjected Naleld.
“Well, yeah, I guess… but it’s possible?”
That was a good question, Eltorin realised. Could the Asmondth die? The council chamber was silent for a long time, while everyone pondered over the possibility. It seemed so unlikely, and yet Rilkas definitely had a point. As the youngest of the Eleven, Rilkas was known to be more headstrong and reckless, but this time he was making sense… if only they had the ability to-
Eltorin’s thoughts vanished into oblivion as a small pinprick of light appeared in the corner of the room. His gaze was held captive as he watched the veins of golden light spread and seep into the council chamber. Although the circular windows carpentered into the ceiling and the crystal torches of fire hanging from the walls provided the room with a sufficient glow, this light was something else entirely. As it grew larger, twirling into ribbons of the brightest gold, it illuminated everything else around it. The tapestries of Amoir and the grand history of Avendon lining the walls sprang to life. Every intricate swirl and pattern chiselled into the frames of the chamber was awoken. This light from another world cast the Avendi chamber to shame. In comparison, the stone blocks gilded with a metal infused with royal hues of magenta and burgundy were nothing more than a dull purple; the gentle colours of the Avendi’s clothing faded to insignificance.
Just before the light reached the point of overwhelming intensity it retreated towards a figure that had appeared in its midst. Soon it had diminished to a thin golden miasma that formed a dim nimbus of light around Amoir in human form.
As one, the councillors stood and bowed their heads respectfully. (Murmured… something??)
You can sit. Amoir waved a hand towards the carved chairs that surrounded the polished lorkin table, the gesture somewhat regal. As He did He smiled, the expression one of such warmth that Eltorin felt it flood his soul and invoke a smile in return.
“What brings you here?” Eltorin asked, taking his seat as the others did the same. Amoir had appeared to them in a few of their council meetings before, and to Eltorin himself a number of times, but still, it wasn’t a common occurrence.
I have reached a decision, Amoir replied.
Out of the corner of his eye, Eltorin saw Iakash lean forward, a glimmer of hope in his light brown eyes.
“Oh?” Eltorin said, curious.
This council has proven most able in the running of Avendon…
Eltorin frowned slightly, glancing at the other councillors. Vatas had a cynical look on his face, and even Werithon had an eyebrow raised, as if he was unsure if Amoir was joking or not.
And I believe the time has come for the Avendi to rule this world, Amoir continued. And therefore I shall be taking my leave –
“What?!” blurted Rilkas, echoed by many of the others.
“Now?” Gilgorath exclaimed, everything in his posture suggesting that Amoir was less than thinking.
Fighting to replace the shocked look on his face with a calmer expression, Eltorin said, “My Lord, you must understand our concern... We mean no disrespect, but in light of the current circumstances, perhaps–” He broke off. You couldn’t simply inform your Deity that you thought He was making a bad decision. But with the extent of the power that the Asmondth had regained, choosing to leave now seemed like – well – to put it frankly, a very bad decision.
“I apologise, my Lord,” Quarem ventured slowly, “but how are we to defend ourselves without Your divine power?”
Eltorin’s mouth parted into an ‘O’ of realisation. He glanced at Kaloiel, who tilted his head slightly as he though, and then nodded slowly. Eltorin grinned.
“My Lord, if I may?” At Amoir’s nod, he went on, “Perhaps You could make it so we weren’t without Your power. If You could grant us some of the abilities You possess…”
Amoir studied him for a long moment, and then swept over the rest of the councillors with the same calculating gaze.
He dipped his head. “Very well.”