The Tunnels of Woe
Book 1: A Bounty Like No Other
Chapter 6 Part 2: The Song of the Lost Lover
The young deckhand shook his head at the memory as he stared up at the now dormant skylight. He still couldn’t fully accept that this city, and even the cliff faces surrounding the island, were all one structure making up a fantastic vessel for traversing creation. Much had been made of the power and grandeur of the first generations upon Monderi, the world that housed the godtree. A harsh reminder that the Veni men were but young newcomers to the land of giants and strife. Still, a mortal does what a mortal can.
Even as Tirro gazed upon the shimmering images above they changed. This latest rendition was at least an illustration of a legend close to the boy’s heart. Amazing, and not just a little unnerving, was the ceiling's ability to sense the desires of those whose eyes linger upon it.
The name for the old story amongst the Veni was the Song of the Lost Lover. An ancient tune their priests’ claim was taught to their ancestors by the godtree itself. The very music that called the Fathers of Veni from the passages of the cursed ones, and into the light of sanctuary under the ancient branches of the last of the godtrees.
The narrative woven within the notes of the song was not long, but the loss and ceaseless striving for finding what was lost had sunk deep within Tirro being even as a child. Sad and forlorn, the deckhand could hear the words in his mind as the images above showed the creation of the world, and the coming of the firstborn. The guardians of the world made by the Loyal Sons of God to content with the evil still besieging their world to this day. The nostalgic desire for home, hearth, and friendly canals around his father’s estate before he came to the Port of Whispers to begin his apprenticeship with his uncle threatened to overcome young Tirro.
The images above changed again to show a being who appeared in the shape of a tall man with silver shining hair and fire for eyes battling waves of minotaurs, cursed animated trees with the faces of men and fangs like wolves, shadowed beings with glowing eyes, and all manner of cursed abominations of the rebellious creation. There beyond the carnage was a maiden with blazing hair in a pure white gown being dragged into passage through the void and creation itself. The final image showed the Lover casting aside his foes, and passing through the tunnel as it collapses, marooning him in the Lands of Chaos where all the worlds are balls strung out into the world in endless maddening motion. Beyond the ocean of the Heavens and the Wall of Hades far beneath their feet of the worlds where their pillars rest.
Almost as if his voice was not his own the words came from Tirro’s mouth as if his soul was drawn to the lost. Mesmerized by a call he never understood or knew. A need to find and be found on the wanderer’s path.
A Star Does Burn in Ethereal Light
In Land Both Dark And Far
Therein a Fire Does Cry
“Oh Love, Oh Life
Come Wander
No More
In Shadow and Strife
Follow Me To Valleys On high
Sway Once More Along Golden Paths
Let Your Voice Sing Allowed
Whence Have You Gone?
Oh Love, Oh Life
Wander No More.”
The words faded on Tirro’s lips as they echoed through the quiet hall. The only merrymakers left were sound asleep amongst the statues and moving ceiling. The passing of the song made Tirro’s heart ache all the more. His few years had not been enough seasoning for all that had transpired, and now the boy beyond the grandson of paladins and prominent merchant houses longed for home and familiar faces.
A single tear had passed down his rugged face when to the deckhand’s shock a beautiful voice in his mother tongue sprung up from a nearby balcony covered in a rich blue curtain. Tirro recognized the voice, and the words were of the second part of the verse he hadn’t the heart to sing.
So the Star Cries Out
Form Vault to Void
Yet No Love
No Life
Answers His Call
And So His Fire Burns Ever On
Across Night and Fading Light
Till Love and Life
Heed His Song
And Wanders
No More
Almost in a trance Tirro followed the sweet flowing honey tune past the thick curtains, and out to the early morning dark. Twinkling lights of faded blues and greens dotted King Marhan’s flagship. The rising levels of walls and cannon angled to the heavens seemed less mad now that the true purpose behind the war vessel was made known. Enemies did not scale the walls, they contented with the mighty craft like a galley charging in for the ram with guns blazing.
To Tirro’s right was an overhanging garden overflowing with vines sprouting scarlet lilies glowing in the twilight. There leaning out from the thickest hanging limbs was the mer girl whose song had contented with the seahag. There she suspended herself over the far drop with one hand grasping her scepter and the crown still alight on her head. Her flowing red hair blew in the wind, and the rich green gown gave her visage a mythic pose that took Tirro to a place of wonder and trepidation.
Being in tunnels had that effect. What was beautiful to behold was often deadly in the passages of ancient cursed ones. Yet here was a beauty the deckhand knew was not a serpent cloved in lilies. Still, one did not override their instincts overnight.
The song ended as Tirro came to stand at the thick black marble railing looking up at what surely was a maiden of song. A being with the tongue of Sons of God whose words held, and channeled the power of the God of Heavens’ Armies. A servant of ancient patronage to the blessed savior himself Jesus Christ.
“You long for home, young Paladin,” The sound of his mother’s tongue on the lips of the mer girl again was like wine on a rolling hill overlooking the sea. A gentle rumor on his senses of far of beauty and strength. She did not ask either. She knew Tirro’s mood he was sure, just as he was sure of his answer.
“As do you Princess Alumi,” Tirro had learned she was from his home world of Monderi. A Princess on a quest to free the Fisher King. Though their task had nearly ended in tragedy the tale would surely place her in the songs of her people. The voice that awoke King Marhan from the nightmare.
“One does not sing such verses when light of heart,” Alumi turned to him with damp eyes that bored into the young boy's soul.
“No,” Tirro said as he recovered some from his own trance,” But as my great uncle once said. Lonely souls may as well be lonely together. Come down from thy perch sweet lady, and let us purge our misery together.” Alumi allowed a sad smile to fill her face. She held her ground for a time, and just when the deckhand was worried he’d be denied the young princess leaned back from the railing and vines covered in lilies then took his hand before dropping with grace to the balcony. Perhaps tonight would not be as lonesome as the last few nights feasting had been after all.
The Story Will Continue Every Wednesday.
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