Storm God, chapter three

The Secrets of Thoh

• Introduction and table of contents

• Chapter two

“…Miraz’s ears were closed to Vorn’s plea for action. Yet Vorn could not rest, for his mind was beset with fear and doubt. His father offered no help, so Vorn searched for another who would…”

-The Elder Zorath, The Book of the First Time

“That’s ridiculous,” Kazzerak said from across the leaden feasting table. One of Vorn’s cousins, Kazzerak was tall and thin, with skin like polished obsidian and eyes like smoking coals. Kazzerak’s twin brother, Beridrak, sat silently beside him. He was short and broad, with red skin and black eyes. “Thoh’s been dead for millennia. You can’t talk to him.”

“Not me perhaps,” Vorn answered. “But everyone knows father has greater power than he lets on. Maybe he has some way of contacting him.”

“Not!” Beridrak barked.

“That’s right.” Kazzerak nodded. “If Miraz or any of the Elders still had contact with Thoh, we would know about it. Thoh was meant to have been wise and powerful beyond belief. If the Elders could speak with him they would’ve done so when Tarneb reawakened. But no. Thoh is with Zenops now. The Lord of Death takes his role in the Great Order very seriously.”

“What if they do have contact but father chooses to ignore him?”

“He wouldn’t.” Kezzerak leaned forwards and lowered his voice. “Did you know it was Thoh, not Miraz, who created the Eld-Siris Arcana? It was he who made it possible to harness Nira’s power and create the Walls of Kethis.”

Vorn frowned. “Are you sure? Father always said–”

“That he created it, yes. My father Kenaz has told me many things about the ancient days. Miraz takes credit for much that was not his doing. He wants to look like the most powerful of the Herazor. To be our undisputed leader.” Kazzerak shrugged. “I guess without Thoh around he is.”

“Then wouldn’t it make sense for him to ignore Thoh? He might not want to talk to him out of fear of some threat to his authority?”

Kazzerak shook his head. “You’re missing the point. Miraz is vain but not stupid. None of the Elders are. Tarneb is winning, and no matter what Miraz says, he knows it. How could he not? If they could speak to Thoh, they’d be hanging on his every word. But instead they just sit in their fortress telling themselves everything is going to be fine. What else can they do? They’re scared of Tarneb, and because Miraz didn’t actually create the spells protecting the Walls, he doesn't know how to strengthen them.”

“Then why would he be whispering to Thoh’s chair?”

“How should I know? Are you sure that’s what he was doing? From the sounds of things your run in with Tarneb was fairly devastating. Maybe you’re seeing things?”

“No, Thalsi and Zera saw it too.”

Thalsi nodded.

“Maybe he was then. But what good would it do him? None that I can see. Maybe the stress has finally broken the old man’s mind. He always speaks very highly of Thoh. Maybe it gives him some measure of comfort as the world crumbles around him.”

Vorn leaned back and took a sip from his mug. It didn’t make sense to him. But neither did the idea of Miraz hiding some secret contact with Thoh. If only there was a way for him to arrange a meeting with his father in private.

“Vorn!” a thundering voice echoed through the feasting hall.

The hall fell silent. Vorn looked up from his reverie. Kazzerak and Beridrak were gone and the human attendants shuffled uneasily on their feet. Aros stood in the entryway, glaring at him with dark orange fire dancing over his copper skin.

“I’ve been looking for you!” Aros bellowed, marching towards him. 

Thalsi moved to cut him off.

“No, Thalsi,” Vorn said quickly. “This is between me and Aros.” He stood, trying to ignore the ache in his side.

Thalsi hesitated, glancing from Vorn to Aros to Vorn again, before reluctantly stepping aside.

Aros stopped a pace from Vorn, scowling down at him. “You destroyed my chariot.”

The heat radiating from his brother made sweat beaded across Vorn’s skin. “I did,” he admitted, measuring his words carefully. Should he grovel as Zera suggested? “And I would do so again without a second thought.”

Aros growled.

“I regret the rift my actions have created between us. But I did what was necessary to save the mor–”

Aros’ fist shot out in a blur of heat and fury, cracking Vorn in the temple before he could react. Burning pain exploded through his head and his legs buckled beneath him, throwing him to the cold flagstones below. Sharp ringing vibrated through his head and his vision swam. Thalsi took a step forward, but Vorn waved her back, struggling up to one knee.

Aros cracked his knuckles. “Come on, Vorn, you self-righteous bastard. At least put up a fight.”

Vorn tried to stand, but the wounds down his side throbbed, stabbing at him mercilessly. 

“You’re not even worth it,” Aros grunted. The flames on his skin wavered into subtle flickers. “Ariana’s right. Tarneb has broken you.” He didn’t sound concerned, only disappointed. He sighed, then turned and stomped out of the hall. 

Thalsi knelt beside Vorn, and draping his arm over her shoulder, helped him to his feet. The hall was now empty save for the two of them. 

“He’s right, Thalsi,” Vorn said, weakly. “Tarneb has broken me.”

Thalsi helped him back into his seat and for a time he sat in sullen silence. Then he picked up his mug, revealing a folded slip of parchment beneath it.

“Huh, what’s this?” Vorn said to Thalsi as he unfolded it. 

If you would seek Thoh’s council, meet me behind the Temple of the Fallen after nightfall. Tell no one and let none mark your arrival, your father least of all.

To Vorn’s surprise, Anyara, Zera, and Ariana were waiting for them in the deepening gloom of the narrow alley. All three wore plain hoods and cloaks, and none were accompanied by their usual entourages of mortal attendants.

Ariana rushed over to him as he and Thalsi approached. “What happened?” she asked, putting her hand on his face where Aros had hit him. 

“Aros found me.”

“He’s such a brute.”

Anyara cleared her throat. “Thank you all for coming,” she said in her soft voice, glancing up and down the alley.

“A secret meeting with a long dead Herazor Elder?” Zera said. “How could we refuse?” She turned to the others. “Isn’t it amazing?”

“It is,” Anyara agreed. “You four will be the first of the Younger Herazor ever to speak with him. Now, were any of you followed?”

They all shook their heads.

Anyara nodded, then she whispered something under her breath. A section of the smooth rock wall beside her shimmered away, revealing an arched gap. “Come,” she said, stepping through.

She led them down a narrow passage, ending at a spiral stair descending far into Herazeem’s depths. The stair was steep and Vorn’s mother set a fast pace. If not for the support of Thalsi, he was sure he wouldn’t have managed. Even so, he was flushed and slick with sweat by the time they reached the unadorned stone door at the stair’s bottom.

Anyara gave Vorn a concerned look. “Take a moment to catch your breath,” she said. “Thoh awaits beyond.”

“He’s here in Herazeem?” Zera asked.

“You’ll see.”

Vorn’s breath was returning very slowly. The others watched him, waiting. 

Anyara raised an eyebrow at Ariana. She nodded, retrieving a glass vial, clouded with dark smoke from within her robe. She unscrewed the brass cap and held it beneath Vorn’s nose. “Breath deeply,” she said.

Vorn inhaled the hot, bitter smoke. It burned, racing up his nostrils and down his throat like fire. He recoiled, trying not to cough. Then his head cleared and the pain in his side melted into a barely perceptible ache. New strength flooded through him. He straightened up and stepped out of Thalsi’s grasp.

“Why didn’t you do that before?” Zera asked.

“Because the smoke of the harrwood tree is not a cure,” Ariana answered. “It only serves to mask the damage, not heal it, and even then it doesn’t last. I don’t want to give him too much, too often, lest it burn out his lungs and he becomes dependent on it.” She turned to Vorn. “I know you feel better, but your body is still damaged. Be careful not to overexert yourself.”

Vorn nodded, trying to suppress a smile. Right now he was sure he’d be able to slay Tarneb single handedly.

Anyara pressed her forehead against the door. “Those who fight against Tarneb, as you requested, brother,” she whispered. A faint blue light pulsed around its edge and it slowly parted.

Anyara stood aside. “The Tomb of Thoh,” she said, gesturing at the doorway.

Zera blinked. “But the Tomb of Thoh is built into the side of Mount Arakia?”

“A diversion.”

“But–”

Anyara held up a hand for quiet. “No more questions. Your uncle awaits you.”

“You’re not coming in with us?” Vorn asked.

Anyara shook her head. “This meeting is for you. I was only the messenger.” 

Vorn nodded, and he and his sisters stepped through the door. The chamber beyond was a dome of seamless white stone. Every inch of floor, wall, and ceiling was engraved with spiralling geometric patterns, the intricacy of which Vorn had never seen before. In the chamber’s centre, stood a great sarcophagus. Its front was carved in the likeness of a stern bearded man, its sides were embedded with thousands of tiny, rune etched prisms of quartz. Two of the likeness’ eyes were closed, but in its forehead was a third, open and radiating white light. 

Vorn and his sisters looked around the chamber in wonder.

“Welcome,” an ethereal voice said. Whether it came from the sarcophagus, the chamber’s walls and floor, or from within Vorn’s own mind, he couldn’t say. “I’ve called you here so that something may be done in this most desperate hour. Tarneb’s power grows and the fate of the Middle World hangs in the balance. Of all the Herazor you four alone work to curtail him. There is much to discuss and my time with you is limited, yet I see that you have questions. Ask.”

“How is this possible?” Zera asked, looking around the chamber. “Do you still live? Here in the depths of Herazeem?”

“No. While my body remains in Herazeem, it was broken by Tarneb long ago. Now I exist as a shade in the Realm of Zenops. Yet as I lay dying, the last great work of my living mind was the creation of the arcana of this tomb. I tethered my spirit to my body so that I might continue to serve on the Council of the Elders for all time.”

“Then why do you still not sit on the council still?” Vorn asked. “Your throne is empty and none of the Younger Herazor even know that you can still speak to us.”

“In the care of Zenops my power is greatly diminished. He resents the connection I was able to forge with the World of the Living, and ever he seeks to sever it. In the time shortly after my death, but long before any of you were born, I walked the streets and halls of Herazeem as a spirit, able to move and speak, and even act on the world to a limited degree. Yet my power to bring forth arcane secrets was greatly diminished. The last arcana I shared with your father was for the slaying and binding of Nira, and the creation of the Walls of Kethis. But that work cost me dearly. Zenops was enraged, and he tightened the channel through which my spirit reaches into the World of the Living. What was once a mighty river, became a mere trickle. No longer could I sit on the council, no longer could I bring forth arcane secrets. For a time, the others still sought my council, but always when I tried to speak Zenops tightened his grip. Even now he does so, pulling me further from the World of the Living with every word. So my reach diminished and the other Elders sought me less and less. Eventually, before the birth of the first of the Younger Herazor, your father declared me dead. Maybe it was to protect what little of me remained in this World, maybe it was so he could heed his own council without concern for me. I no longer have the sight into this World to see such things.”

“And you just let him?”

“It mattered little in those days. Nira’s power had been bound and Tarneb had not yet reawakened.You must not think ill of Miraz. What he did, he did to uphold order and stability in the way he thought best. Order is always his aim, and for an age it was as your father wished. But now Tarneb has returned and the order so prized by your father fails. I have urged him to act, but he ignores my council”

“Then what can we do?” Vorn asked. “Father won’t act until the Walls fall and Herazeem is cast down. But we need his help if we’re to have a chance.”

“Even then it might not be enough,” Zera said. “But is that why you’ve called us here, Thoh? Do you have some new arcana to give us with which we might slay Tarneb?”

There was a pause.

“I do not know,” Thoh admitted. “You’re right that even all the Herazor standing in unison may avail little against Tarneb. But I have not been idle in the Underworld. As I once devised spells for Nira’s undoing, so too have I devised spells for Tarneb’s. I cannot say if they will be enough though. Tarneb’s power is greater than mine and his nature is very different to his sister’s.”

“It’s better than nothing,” Vorn said. “What are these spells? I would wield them against Tarneb gladly.”

“Have you not been listening, Vorn? If it were so simple I would have given them to Miraz long ago.”

Ariana shook her head. “The way into Zenops’ Realm is hidden even from the Elders. And if we did find our way in, would Zenops let us leave again?”

“Indeed, such a journey is not without peril, but the only way for me to bestow these spells upon you is if you come before me in the Underworld. I issue no commands, for I know not if these spells will be sufficient to best Tarneb. I only make an offer. Find me in the Underworld and I will grant such boons as I can.”

“Would that we could. But how would we even get into the Underworld?”

Thoh’s voice faltered, dropping to a strained whisper. “Seek the entrance far below the Great Tree, where the earth is above and the sky is below.”

“What? What does that even mean?”

But Thoh didn’t answer, and the light of his third eye flickered out.

For a moment the four of them stood in silence.

“A journey to the Underworld?”

“Looks like it.”

“This is madness,” Ariana said. “We don’t even know where to go. That riddle didn’t help at all.”

Zera shook her head. “I wouldn’t be so sure. It’s cryptic but I might have an idea of its meaning.”

“And no one is forcing you to come, Ariana,” Vorn said.

Ariana sighed. “I never said I wouldn’t come. This is madness, but someone has to care for your wounds. I know you won’t.”

“So we’re agreed then?” Zera asked.

“Yes,” Ariana said.

Thalsi nodded.

“We are,” Vorn said, flexing his axe hand. “But first I’m going to go and see Torvar. This journey will be fraught with peril and I’m going to need a new axe.”

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• Chapter four

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