SERIALIZATION: Episode 1 of "The Doom of Innocence"

URATHANE IVRONWINE made his way down the slight, rocky trail which wended ever westwards along the banks of the Dwarthéa, to the shores of the Great Sea just a little ways ahead. “Irolas! Irolas!” he called out, sharp blue eyes probing his surroundings with a keen regard. His excursion to the outside world was mainly due to a desire to speak with his only son. Time was run short for him, and he hoped to find a common mind upon whom he might unload the fusillade of troubling introspections which had been pressing upon his heart of late. Overhead, the sun shined dimly in the overhung clouds with a tint of paleness, yet still gave off enough light to make the sparkling waters of the river shimmer in a somewhat mellow brightness. Around Urathane, green bushes sprawled out of the fertile riverbank here and there, while the light of the sun filtered softly through the leaves of the ash trees which hovered over the waterside. In front of him, however, the river curled and twisted lazily in a small, descending slope, before coming after several more miles to the seaside, where the oceans ruled, and the crests of their waves pounded against the land in a heraldic fury. Urathane halted his promenade to gaze eastwards. Slowly, his eyes passed over the distant Pëlindori, to the valley below, to at last the great city of Elgarost, the capital city of Ared’dor. There, his eyes lingered, and he looked upon it fixedly. Even from over a league away, Urathane could see the uppermost spike of the high tower of Ephén-Laranal, wherein hung the bronzed bell which rang loudly for all to hear each time the third hour came to pass upon the city. For all sakes and appearances, his face bore no sign of the conflictions that warred within him. His heart was caught between two different sentiments: each contending upon the other, thus creating a fermenting unrest inside of him that was the permeating source for his overwrought state of mind: an unrest that pervaded most all of his thought and served to agitate his heart and soul greatly. But Urathane had not come to look upon the wonders of the world that existed outside his home. He had come to see if he might find his son, Irolas; for he wished to speak with him before he left for Elgarost to take over his new duty at the Ship-yards. At this, he turned away resolutely and continued his ambling trudge down the riverbank. “Irolas!” he called again. “I am here, my father,” said a voice suddenly out of nowhere. “I am if truth be told, quite near to you.” Starting, Urathane looked around to discern where the voice had come from. Just a little ways away to his right, he espied a large boulder which jutted out authoritatively from the sandy riverbank. Upon seeing it, his eyes lightened in realization, and he quickly crossed the distance between it and himself. On the other side of the boulder, he found Irolas standing stalwartly upon the rocky shore, hands clasped firmly behind his back, and eyes gazing out upon the calm sea which gleamed scintillatingly a little ways beyond them. His dark hair fell a little ways past his ears, and a thoughtful, wondering expression was upon his face. In looking upon him, Urathane’s heart filled with pride. Irolas was strong and fit; the vigor of his youth was evident about him. In Irolas was represented one of the last bits of dignity which he had once worn about himself before evil came upon him. Yet, in thinking of the pride which he felt for Irolas, the sadness felt in days long past returned to him. For a moment, his face grew grey almost and distant, as his mind reflected upon times past. Then, with a quiet sigh, he pushed aside the reminiscence, driving away those grief-haunted times to a much darker corner of his mind, where they would not give cause to haunt him. “Irolas, my son,” he said. “I wish to speak with you. The shadow which I believe has fallen across this land weighs now heavily upon my heart as well, and I would have someone in whom I could confide. I hope though that I am not intruding upon you or your thoughts in any ways which might give cause to irk you. If you wish it so, I shall spare you the fears and worries of an old man for another time.” He hesitated, not knowing whether to take his leave or to draw closer. “Your presence is not displeasing to me,” said Irolas. “Nor is it a hindrance or bother to me in the slightest. You are my father, and if I do not have the time to be a rock upon which you should lean in your most trying seasons, then I am no good of a son at all; you may speak whatever it is you would say if you wish so.” “I thank you for your comforting words, and I pray that you never think of me as troublesome,” said Urathane, relaxing and drawing nigh to the water’s edge. “Alas! All is heavy and dark now, and under some black shadow which I feel shall soon rear its ugly head and spew its poisonous breath upon us, if it has not yet already done so.” He paused, as if contemplating the words he was about to say; but then made up his mind and said, “Of the matters that have been pressing upon my mind of late, this is one: what think you of the Lord Surentûr? When you hear his name uttered or chance to espy his face, what feeling comes upon your heart? Is it hope or disquiet? Trust assured or distrust warranted? What think you of the hold which he has over the peoples of Ared’dor and their King?” “Why I feel nothing at all,” said Irolas assertively. “Indeed, there was once some hesitancy on my part in regards to him; however, my stance has changed, and I now believe him to be caring and full of wisdom: a leader who cares greatly for the better welfare of the people: one who consistently sets their interests above the concern of his own. There is a strange aura about him, an ambiance which fills my heart with a sense of peace and tranquility of heart. But wherein this matter lies your distress? No justification can I here perceive in regards to the dark portents which you have taken pains to evince.” For a moment, Urathane’s countenance fell; but he managed to hide this before Irolas caught sight of it and discerned it for what it was. Taking no notice of Irolas’s presumptions, he said with deliberate intent, “Then is your outlook upon him positive or negative, that being so? Do you believe that he does good for the people? That he is what they need?” “Yes, indeed,” said Irolas. “I am of the opinion that he is good for the people. Look around us! Are we not the most impregnable realm in all of Pergelion?! And are we not the wealthiest? “Our cities are the most glorious there are to behold, and the soldiers within them are staunch. They defend our borders with a zealous aggressiveness that is held in so much esteem by the neighboring countries and realms, that none have dared to assail us for many long years; and all flock to our kingdom and cities so that they might trade and barter with us! To me, this seems an easy question to answer: I say yea! Surentûr has done much good for us with his wise counsel, and we thrive exceedingly because of it.” My greatest fears have been confirmed, thought Urathane to himself. Surentûr’s hold on the people is indeed very great, and now it is that I shall hereafter have to choose my words carefully in these matters when speaking to my son unless he should one day see Surentûr for the serpent that he truly is. Aloud though, he said, “In your words, you seem to forget that we are of Asgalarion and not of Ared’dor, although once we were one people, as you well know. Do you not bethink yourself of why we became two nations? The shadow was already creeping over Ared’dor ere Surentûr came; the soil was fertile: all he needed was to plant the seeds and let them fall to the right ears.” “So some would say; but history was changed, it is said, and elsewhere another story is told.” “And what is the story now?” “That we were the dross the needed skimming off: the chief tyrants. With our departure and the rending of the kingdom, Ared’dor was left in peace to grow to new heights hitherto unseen. And now the Lord Surentûr guides the ship through the murky waters which would despoil it.” “Your heritage you fail to remember, Irolas,” said Urathane, his trepidation growing with this unseen revelation. “And you have let your guard drop, allowing your mind to be deceived by falsities sent beleaguer and persuade our reasonings to another, unknown purpose which has not yet been revealed at this present time.” “That, my father, was the story told from our persuasion. Each person has their own story, which is right in their own eyes; we are not held exempt from this. Truth is what we make it to be.” “Nay, but you err in your assertions,” said Urathane. He looked askance upon Irolas and continued. “There is Wrong and Right: there is no in-between. Surentûr changes history to fit his own scheme, casting shadows over the Light and enlightening the deeds of the Dark. But they were never selfsame. Nay, but they are at great variance with the other. From whence have these pollutions come to enter your mind?” Irolas made no answer, regarding him with a perturbed expression. Urathane pressed onwards. “The houses of Ared’dor and Asgalarion have been separate and estranged from each other for over two generations. Though society as we know it, may become so enamored of Surentûr, that they would place their trust in one who would lead them blindfolded on the path ahead, you must hearken to my words! There is a great darkness in this world that seeks everywhere it might look to find those whom it would devour.” “Your words reek of treason, my father,” said Irolas. "Do not speak so loudly! It is decreed that none shall speak unfavorably in opposition to the royal house or those that serve within its courts; for that is considered blasphemous and of a treacherous nature against his Royal Majesty.” “If it is treason, then it is treason,” Urathane replied. “I serve not Darkness, but Light only. If our sovereigns and those who serve them are servants of the Dark, then I serve them not, nor abide by their law. The only allegiance that I may owe to Surentûr is through the fear and dread of dark torments, which he sets within our hearts. That is how he would control us.” “Us? What mean you by ‘us’? I do not give my allegiance to Lord Surentûr through such ways as those which you have spoken of. And what do you mean when you talk of ‘dark torments’? This is the first time I have heard of such acts, and I am out and about more in the world than you. Your utterances seem unfounded.” “No, you do not,” said Urathane. “That, I meant for myself and those of like mind. But though it indeed is true that you are out and about more than your father, I have other means of gaining access to disclosures. This is not something that is spoken of out loud; it is merely a rumor: something whispered of only by those subverters of the Steadfast: one which is made to spurn fear in the hearts of good men. However, do not let me misinform you! It is an actuality and was personally reported to me by those who have gone to great lengths in discovering the secret doings of our leaders.” “Whatever are you saying, my father?” said Irolas, a look of fear momentarily entering his eyes. “You do not mean to say that you are actually a leader of these fools who would try and depose of our hierarchy, do you?” “I am the son of Neldoreth,” said Urathane. “Even though I am removed from the House of Ared’dor, my seat still resides in the hearts and minds of its former people, and the Lords of Ared’dor are not so easily displaced. There are some who still hold themselves loyal unto my line, and I am bound in more ways than one to serve them as I still can.” “You would unseat a great lord who has done much for the benefit of Ared’dor without cause? That seems low for you, my father.” “Have you not been listening to my words? Do you not observe the minds of the people? Yes, they may be prosperous on their own accord, and yes, wealth may be abundant, but what of their hearts? I deem that you are right when you say that Surentûr speaks soothing words which comfort your heart and assuage your mind of all fears, but what is their effect on the people? Riots are more plentiful than ever before; weapons of war are increasing, and the people are become more restless and quicker to violence by the day: I say, is this truly good?” Irolas looked at him warily. “Why is it that you speak like this? Simply because the world outside may seem dark, this does not portend that all else is under shadow; can there not be some good left? I believe this to be so and in following this line of thought, I also believe that Ared’dor is exemplified perhaps through this. Yet you speak as though Surentûr were unwholesome for the people. Has someone come and given you reason with his or her words to think so?” “I speak of what my own mind ponders,” Urathane responded sharply. “Though you may no longer be a child, that does not make you wise. I am still elder than you and shall always be; I merely give voice to such thought, because I have seen such things before. My years are weightier than yours, and I have more reason to be wary than you. I have known and felt how it is to be betrayed by those whom I once deemed good.” He paused and regarded Irolas with a knowing glance that yet held a measure of decidedness to it at the same time. “Tell me Irolas, when was the last time that the King of Ared’dor appeared before the people? His presence has not been felt or seen here for many long months, and during this time, these ‘royal decrees and proclamations’ have only served to increase, more so than has been the custom in times past. Bethink yourself of this also: every time he appeared before, unfailingly was it that Surentûr stood at his side: always whispering something in his ear, always giving him some ‘advice’ that we were unable to hear. I deem that I would be right in saying that Surentûr, not the King, rules Ared’dor.” “Whatever on earth are you suggesting?” said Irolas, almost denunciatingly. “Nothing, but that which I have observed with my own eyes: eyes which are more prone to search out, than to trust absolutely. If you did likewise, then you might understand me better, and it might be that we could agree on this matter.” “However that might be,” said Irolas, with a small hint of annoyance in his voice, “Surentûr does do good for the people whatever you may say. You may be wary because weapons are increasing, but the enemies around us are growing stronger with every passing day: why then should an escalation of weapons be deplorable?” “Have you not taken heed of the discontentment which lives and festers everywhere you look?” Irolas’s constant rebuttals were beginning to try Urathane's patience. “Always when you make an answer of me to defend Surentûr, you speak of that which grows on the outside, not of that which grows forth from within. This is precisely what I speak of; this is one of the reasons why I have been stirred to doubt and wariness. Looks can be deceiving. Just because all may look well and prosperous on the outside, it does not always indeed bode that all is at peace, I speak of what I see when I deem to look upon the true hearts of the people or listen to that which they utter with their mouths. As the old proverb relates: From the abundant fruit of the heart, the mouth doth speak. “Everywhere I look, I see discontent and restlessness. Ere Surentûr came, the people seemed at least somewhat content with what was allotted them in life; however, since the day he first arrived here, bringing prosperity and affluence, they now wish for more. Through this, they have become filled with a lust and greed for pleasures and worthless trinkets, making it so that they are no longer content with what they already have.” Irolas eyed him for a small while, and he seemed now to be almost leery of Urathane. “Why have you come to me with this, my father?” he asked. “I would not wish for a rift between us; cannot we lay aside this matter and speak of it no more? Solitude is more preferable to estrangement is it not?” Urathane sighed. “So it is, Irolas, so it is. However, one might wonder if compromise hinders more than abets here. Yet this is perhaps why I have come before you at this given hour, ere you leave for your new post. There, I wonder if you would be driven even more so away from me; for your betters would likely be most inappreciable of my sentiments and would wish for you to think as they do. However, if you wish it, then I shall lay aside this matter for the time being and not speak of it for an indefinite amount of time.” “I would wish that so,” said Irolas. “Very well.” The moment passed, and Urathane withdrew from Irolas’s side and returned within the house shortly thereafter. True to his word, he did not bring up the subject again, and Irolas conducted himself as if the conversation had never taken place. It was on the following morning that Irolas departed for Elgarost. The distance was not far; it was merely a few miles from his house which lay near to the sea, but Irolas would be taking up a permanent residence there hereafter. As he began to ride down the path that would take him to the city, Irolas turned back for a brief moment and said, “I hope O my father that you bear no ill will towards me or my judgement.” “I bear none, my son,” replied Urathane. “Palisor informed me that he would pass by here now and then to give you company, so that the days may not become wearisome to you.” “You may have no fear of that,” said Urathane. “Though my beard may hold some grey in it that ripens and grows out further with every passing spring, I am no dotard; however, I shall appreciate his company, should or when he deigns to give it.” Palisor was a good friend of Irolas, and on times when he was away, he often came by to converse with Urathane on various matters or subjects of interest to them both. Since the very first day when Urathane had moved his place of abode to the small settlement that existed below Elgarost, Palisor had dwelt there with his father, who was not long passed away. He always spoke to Urathane with great respect and likewise, treated him with much deference; for which Urathane was appreciative. He did mean it when he said he would welcome his company. Thus, Irolas departed, and for a little while, Urathane stood silently in the doorway, watching him proceed further and further down the road before he was lost from sight altogether. Then, with a quiet sigh, he closed the door and busied himself with a few menial tasks that kept him busy till the day was ended and night had drawn nigh. TO BE CONTINUED: SERIALIZATION: Episode 2 of "The Doom of Innocence"