> The Seven Bells and The Six Bearers > by vren55 > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- > Prologue: The Greater Dead and The Nightmare > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- Prologue: The Dead Monster and the Nightmare River of Death, The Eighth Precinct Slow, blazing patches of fire drifted across the endless river. The shimmering flames flared and flickered irregularly. The water was still, flowing swiftly and surely, uninterrupted, without source and without end. Suddenly, ripples interrupted the stillness. Something rose out of the river. Bursts of flame from the oily flares illuminated a tall, formless shape. It held itself with bearing, somehow able to wade against the deceptively shifting pressure created by the river. The shadow, for that was what it was, walked back through the fiery arch of the seventh gate, down the waterfall of the sixth, past gate, after gate. Until it finally reached the shallow eddies of the first precinct. Its shuffling gait quickening, the free magic thing sighed as he felt the warmth of life on its misshapen, decayed visage. Then, before it could emerge into life, the dead thing... stopped, held its stance and it slowly turned. With its glowing eyes of flame, the creature examined the curious black shape, trotting across the river of death. “So it was you who summoned me from beyond the seventh gate. Your form surprises me,” said the free magic thing. The nightmare snorted, its dark form wearing an even darker smile. “We shall agree to be surprised.” The dead thing, sidled up to the nightmare, a leering smile on its face. “Foolish being, we shall have your body, strange as it is!” Rotting flesh, encircled the four legged creature, overwhelming her briefly with its cloying stench, but before the dead thing could encircle the nightmare, it stopped. Bright sparks flared around the nightmare, burning chunks and flaps of the dead thing’s skin off. “What is this sorcery?” growled the monster, more out of curiosity than anger. The nightmare grinned, her turquoise eyes and ivory fangs, glowing in death. Her wings flared imperiously, pushing the festering folds back in a flurry of sparks. The Greater Dead stepped back and regarded the Nightmare as she spoke. “I may be inclined to teach you Caedes. So do we have an accord?” > Stirrings... > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- Chapter 1: The Beginning Clayr’s Glacier Buffeted up and down like a cork bobbing on rippling water, Lirael’s gloved hands clenched the sides of the Paperwing tightly. The pale young woman, barely out of her teenage years felt sick and being in a craft created merely of laminated paper enchanted with Charter marks, did nothing to ease her nerves. While the canoe-with-wings had proven its use time and time again, Lirael still preferred travelling by water. “Hang on aunt! We’re almost there!” called Ellimere, taking a pause from whistling the Charter marks for wind. Not that they needed it for anything other than direction. The gale that had sprung up as the craft had flown over the glacier had more than enough potency to throw the two all the way to back to the capital of Belisare. Nodding to acknowledge the young princess’s announcement, Lirael brushed a lock of her black hair out of her eyes and focused upon Starmont Gate looming in the distance. A few hours ago, Lirael’s silent reply would have infuriated the talkative Princess, but she had gotten used to her aunt’s silence after an uncounted number of attempts. Trying to get her relation to return more than one word had been like trying to get a stone to talk. Ellimere frowned as she continued to whistle. Ever since Lirael was revealed as the half-sister to her mother Sabriel, things had been... decidedly awkward. The only person who could really get Lirael talking was her brother Sameth. He was an exceptionally skilled Charter magician and thinker that had gotten to know Lirale during the events of last year. The princess shuddered and a flicker of righteous fury ignited in her. Orannis’s memory was still scorched in her mind. The mere servants of the Ninth Bright Shiner and the Destroyer of Worlds had brought the kingdom down to its knees. It was only through invoking the Charter in its full form was Orannis sealed and that took herself, Lirael, her father, the king, Abhorsen, her mother, her brother, two of the Clayr’s most skilled seers, The Disreputable Dog once the Third Bright Shiner Kibeth, and the Eight Bright Shiner Yrael, also known as The Mogget. They had triumphed, but Lirael had lost her right hand and a gold one crafted by Sam now stood in its place, but that was the lesser of Lirael’s loss. As the Paperwing glided onto the landing strip in front of the Starmont Gate, the great doorway began to open and two women, twins, walked out to meet them. Their tanned skin and blonde hair marked them as Clayr, seers of the future. Ellimere leapt out lithely, eager to get circulation into her legs. Lirael rose more slowly, checking the charter spelled sword at her side and a bandolier of seven bells across her torso before finally leaving the craft. “Greetings Princess and Abhorsen-in-waiting,” said the two Clayr at the same time, bowing their heads in respect. The title Abhorsen sent an unseen wave reverberating through the wind. For it was a title of old power, of the keeper of secrets and of the blood. It was not the title Lirael had wanted. “It has been a long time, Sanar and Ryelle,” said Ellimere politely. As they greeted each other, Lirael couldn’t help but remember how so long ago, she had come up this very gate, wishing to throw herself off the cliff. That day, the arrival of the King and Abhorsen had interrupted that wish and after she was discovered hiding by Sanar and Ryelle, she was allowed to work as an assistant librarian in the Clayr’s Great Library. The first steps down a winding path that led her to discover her destiny. “We saw you come,” said Sanar or was it Ryelle, Ellimere wondered. Lirael was used to this greeting, but she was surprised by what was said next. “But we did not see you leave,” added the other. There was silence, only the sound of the blustering wind biting into the incredulous expressions of Lirael and Ellimere. “Mayhap the Sight chose not to reveal our departure?” suggested Ellimere. Lirael frowned. Ellimere’s suggestion made sense, but the Sight, the fragmented visions that the Clayr received, focused by the ice in the glaciers often revealed the events of the future. It was common for the visions to reflect many paths and many possibilities, but rare when there are no visions on a subject. “Mayhaps... we did not see anything worrisome, but all the same, we advise caution,” said Sanar and Ryelle. “We’re only here to pick up Aunt Lirael’s belongings. I doubt we’ll get into any trouble,” chuckled Ellimere. The four bowed to each other and made their way down the stairs. Equestria... In another land, in a library built inside a living tree, a purple unicorn put the finishing touches to her spell. Her face was twisted in concentration, her lavender eyes focused upon the spellbook on the stand and her horn glowing brightly as she summoned the magic to the apple next to said spellbook. “Hiya TWILIGHT!” The loud cheerful voice caused the unicorn to jump and the apple she had been focusing on exploded. “PINKIE!” screamed the unicorn exasperatedly at the bouncing pink pony, defying gravity as much as her fluffy mane. Spike, Twilight’s dragon assistant, completely harmless and shorter than the average pony, rolled his eyes at Pinkie being Pinkie. Or was it Pinkie being Pinkie Pie? Never mind. “Whoa Twilight, what were you doing to that poor apple?” gasped Pinkie. “Trying to summon a bunch of mythical bipedal creatures known as humans,” deadpanned Twilight. Cricket noises echoed throughout the library, though Twilight had no idea how they had got there. “I was trying to turn it into an orange! I never got the time to finish that spell. What are you doing here Pinkie?” asked Twilight. The party pony of Ponyville smiled. “Why to bring you to the picnic of course!” That caused the purple unicorn’s eyes to widen and her mouth to drop open. Her dark purple mane somehow frizzled and stood on end and a mad glint appeared in her eyes. Spike backpedalled as he realized what was about to happen. “Nonononono... I FORGOT!!! I’m TARDY! I’m a bad friend! I...” Pinkie promptly wrapped her hooves around Twilight in a hug, breaking the unicorn out of her descent into madness. “You’re a great friend Twilight, don’t let anypony tell you anything else,” said Pinkie. Twilight relaxed. “Thanks Pinkie, where is that picnic of yours?” As the two ponies and the dragon walked toward the field where their friends were waiting, a single crow watched them. No other crow would go near this crow. This crow... was made of carrion, a warm fetid stench rising off of it. Its eyes were red like blood. It’s semblance held together by magic that gave of a corrosive, metallic aura. With an eerie caw, the gore crow took off to report to its master. > Old Memories > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- Old Memories Sanar and Ryelle parted with the two women later on, called by their duties as part of the Nine-Day Watch. The Watch was the group of Clayr that was regularly assembled to see the future, in this focused group they could concentrate their Sight and hopefully divine visions to guide the Old Kingdom away from trouble. Lirael then took the lead, walking through the halls carved throughout the glacier. “What was it like, living in the glacier?” asked Ellimere. Lirael paused, unhappy childhood memories surfacing. Memories like standing in her oversized children’s robes, towering over all the other Unsighted children and constantly waiting for the Sight. A gift denied to her all her life and finally barred from her when she discovered her heritage. She hadn’t wanted to come back to this glacier, the recollections were mostly unhappy, but she had many personal items she wanted to retrieve. Then she could leave and never come back. “Lirael?” spoke a shocked voice. Lirael turned to face a tall Clayr woman and couldn’t place the identity of the speaker for a moment, but recognition dawned. “Aunt Kirrith,” said Lirael woodenly, resisting the temptation to back away. As Kirrith took a step forward, Ellimere took a step back as she examined this curious exchange. “You’ve grown... so much! Oh my... your hand!” gasped Kirrith as she held onto Lirael’s golden prosthetic, swirling with charter marks. “I’m fine Aunt Kirrith,” replied Lirael, a hint of resentment showing in her tone. Kirrith either didn’t notice it or ignored it as she fussed over the young woman. “Have you been eating well? You look so pale! Oh why did you leave the glacier when you were so young? You could have stayed safe and-,” something snapped within Lirael and in a swift motion, she pried Kirrith’s hands from her. “My skin is pale because I am my father’s daughter. I left because it was my duty to seal The Destroyer and to assume my destiny. My hand was given to bind and break Orannis. I walk a different path Aunt Kirrith, not one of your choosing, whether you understand that or not. I am, Abhorsen-in-Waiting, the one who will keep the dead down and Remembrancer, the one who sees in the past,” said Lirael coldly. The look of horror that appeared on Kirrith’s face was the same as the day Lirael had first left the Glacier, when Sanar and Ryelle had shut her down. The look faded as the Clayr finally regarded Lirael’s surcoat, a pink field, with the golden stars of the Clayr quartered by the keys of the Abhorsen. “I understand...Abhorsen-in-waiting,” said Kirrith, bowing. Lirael nodded and left, leaving Ellimere to catch up with her. The two walked, not talking, Lirael moving at a furious pace until they reached a small office close to The Great Library. The room was actually tiny. Windowless, carved into the rock under the glacier, the small desk tucked into the corner took up most of the space. Several books with titles such as Basic Bibliography and Book Keeping lay on the deak. What was left was so narrow, that Ellimere had to stand at the doorframe in order to give Lirael enough space. “You were a librarian?” asked Ellimere, finally breaking the stillness between the two. “2nd Assistant Librarian of the Great Library,” replied Lirael, setting aside a red waistcoat that once signified her rank. “Are there any interesting books that were in the library?” inquired the princess innocently. Lirael smiled briefly and chuckled, surprising Ellimere. “The Library doesn’t merely contain books, when I and The Disreputable Dog... Kibeth, still lived in the Glacier, we had far more adventures than merely shelving books.” From the drawer in her minute desk, Lirael hefted a familiar armband. Seven polished green gems adorned it, each with unlocking spells woven into them, “I activated almost all of them myself and opened many of the doors. Not without risk, but we had fun,” explained Lirael as she set down the band and shoved another book into her duffel bag. She didn’t know why she had told her niece that she had broken the rules, but at that moment, she had felt like an old campaigner regaling the tales of his service. “So what sort of things are in the library?” asked Ellimere. Lirael wryly glanced at the armband as she recalled her first ‘adventure’. “The first time I entered a restricted door... I released a Stilken and had to redo the binding myself. It was also when I found the dog,” said Lirael sadly. She still felt the soapstone statue’s weight in her breast pocket. The Disreputable Dog could never be summoned again from that statue. Lirael had tried many times after sealing Orannis and had not succeeded once. Still, Lirael kept the statue as a reminder of her trustworthy companion and maybe out of forlorn hope. Ellimere’s reaction was a little more surprised. “A Stilken? A free magic being and you bound it?” gasped the younger girl. “The Dog helped and I ‘borrowed’ the Chief Librarian’s Sword,” elaborated Lirael as she stowed away the last of her belongings into the duffel bag she had brought along. Slinging the sack over her shoulder, the half-Clayr woman examined the barren room one last time. Once her refuge, this small haven had been one of her most frequented locations. Now it was merely a step in a long path. “Come on, let us get going,” said Lirael softly and the two left. > Intrusion > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- Intrusion The Clayr’s Great Library... A young blonde woman in the yellow uniform of the Third Assistant Librarian shelved another book into one of the library’s great shelves. Shaped like a spiral tapering down to the centre like a Nautilus Shell, The Great Library of the Clayr was a great repository of knowledge and of things. Not even the current Chief Librarian Vancelle was sure of what lay behind some of the sealed doors of this archive. Some of these artifacts were in fact, very dangerous, such as the Stilken that Lirael had to bind. But these often lay behind closed doors, so the main spiral was usually devoid of danger given the presence of so many Clayr. Well, usually. The young librarian suddenly stopped in front of one small door, close to the centre of the library’s spiral. It was barely noticeable for it only reached to the chest of the average Clayr and this was one of the strangest doors in the library. Nobody was sure exactly how to unlock this door. The spell holding this one was locked in a completely different from the other doors. Six hexagonal gems, five in a pentagonal shape and one in the centre, held a long forgotten and powerful Charter magic spell. To the young Clayr’s knowledge would take something catastrophic to force this door to open. Yet, somehow... the door was creaking open, blocking the Clayr’s view to whatever was coming out. Somehow in her panicked state, the young librarian noticed the Charter magic bonds upon it wrenched apart and shattered. The gems were lifeless and cracked... Dark smoke was pouring out of the door, carrying the iron corroded scent of Free Magic. That was enough for the young Clayr to flee the scene, not wanting to see what was coming out. If she had stayed longer though, she might have seen a horned head raise itself into the light Lirael and Ellimere were just about to make their way out of the library, when they heard whistle blasts and the sound of an urgently tolling bell. It took Lirael a long moment to remember what it signified, but when she did, her eyes widened. “It’s the library alarm! Quick, follow me!” said Lirael, giving one of her uncharacteristic orders. Ellimere didn’t question her aunt and raced after her. As Lirael and Ellimere approached the door into the main spiral of her library, their hands went over their various implements and equipment. The Princess adjusted her mail coat and her two Charter spelled swords. Designed to cut through dead flesh and to reinforce Charter spell casting, these weapons could easily destroy any of the lesser dead. Lirael’s white and golden hands went to the bandolier strapped across her mailed torso. Carefully, they touched the mahogany handled, silver bells nestled in their leather carrier as she silently named each of them. The first and smallest bell, Ranna the Sleeper. The bell brings sleep to every being that hears it. The second bell, Mosrael the Waker. It calls the dead back to life, but throws the ringer further into death. The third bell - Lirael smiled as she touched this one - Kibeth the Walker. Kibeth will inspire movement into any Dead or living being that hears its bark. However, it is very mischievous and might cause the wielder to walk a path they do not want to take. The fourth bell, Dyrim the Speaker. The bell can help one to speak, but it can as easily take one’s voice away. The fifth bell, Belgaer the Thinker. It can give the Dead back their memories and allow them to think freely, but like Dyrim, it also has the power to erase what it can give. The sixth bell, Saraneth the Binder. One of the most reliable bells, it is the favorite of all past Abhorsens and Necromancers. It binds whoever hears its loud tone to the wielder’s will. At the end of the bandolier, Lirael’s hand rests on the last bell momentarily, taking care not to let it ring. The final bell, Astarael the Weeper. When rung, all who hear its mournful tone are cast into death, including the ringer. Lifting her hands off the bells, Lirael instead drew her sword a little out of its sheath. Crafted by her nephew, Prince Sameth, the sword was imbued with the strongest marks he could find. Their woven glamour shimmered and shifted in the flickering candlelight. A masterpiece, if one could call a tool of destruction that, she had yet to use it in combat or give it a name. With a nod to Ellimere, Lirael opened the door and the pair stepped forward. As the two women stepped into the library, they were met with the cloying scent of free magic, and silence. Not the awkward silence in a conversation, but the suffocating, dead silence of the darkest night. It was enough to cause the two to advance slowly down the spiral. Ellimere’s swords were out in front of her, Lirael had a hand on her bells and on her sword. Every step was taken with purpose, ringing through the depths of The Great Library. Closer and closer did they draw to the centre of the library and then they saw. A small door with six gems embedded into it, was opened, Charter magic, ancient and powerful, not smote with brute force, but undone and unmade. They could only see the front of the door though, not what was inside. More disturbingly, neither Lirael nor Ellimere could see what had come out of the door. “What was inside here?” asked Ellimere. “I’m not sure. I don’t think I ever noticed this door,” said Lirael with a frown. The two were about to advance, but heard something odd behind them, trotting. Spinning around, both Lirael and Ellimere gripped their weapons. They couldn’t see whatever was making the sound just yet. What the two did know was that it came in the direction they had just arrived from. Ellimere changed her sword stance and went over her most powerful Charter Marks for blasting, fire and lightning. Lirael kept her sword in her golden hand, and drew Saraneth with her other hand. The two waited as the regal trotting, if a trot could ever be called regal, came closer and closer. The metallic tang of Free Magic, drew nearer and nearer, overpowering all of Lirael’s senses and forcing her to shrink back, and finally the source of it came into sight. “Who is so foolish to oppose me?” said the creature. It had an imperious tone, commanding, and not unlike a distorted version of Saraneth, infused with iron will. Lirael and Ellimere frowned, their eyes examining their foe. It was equine in shape, with a coat darker than the darkest night, but the majestically extended wings and long horn on its headed set it apart from any horse that either Lirael and Ellimere had seen. It’s mane sparkling like the dark night sky. The unicorn pegasus hybrid wore heavy blue barding, that shone softly, as if moonlight was reflecting off of it. The most unsettling fact of the creature though, was its almond shaped eyes. Its turquoise hue unnatural and their deceptive shape caused the two women’s muscles to tense up even more. Those eyes gazed down upon the two humans, giving Lirael an uncomfortable sense of inferiority “Well? Speak you foals,” demanded the equine. Lirael trembled slightly as she raised the bell and opened her mouth at the same time, speaking her title. A name of many secrets, of paths not travelled, a name that struck fear into all of the dead and of the unbound. “Abhorsen.” And Saraneth rang clear through the tension-infused air, carrying Lirael’s will and shackling the equine to her will. The equine creature’s eyes widened and snarled, two polished fangs gleaming in the dark. “You two are of the blood!” Lirael ignored the equine. “Begone creature, I bind you past the seventh gate,” said Lirael and she swung Saraneth in a figure eight movement. Nothing happened and the nightmare, which was probably the best way to describe the equine, sneered. To Lirael and Ellimere’s shock, the thing stepped forward, Saraneth’s call making the equine’s movement sluggish, but unable to halt them. “You two are of the blood. A blood that has been watered and diminished, you cannot bind me, Abhorsen!” snorted Nightmare. Lirael gritted her teeth, sheathed her sword and reached to her bandolier to draw Kibeth in her other hand, but the equine charged. Free magic crackled around her horn as she fired a bolt of magic toward the frozen Lirael. Ellimere sprang into action, her swords moving quickly as she golden Charter magic formed a shield to block attack. Sweeping her swords in a counter slash, the Princess was deflected off the equine’s armour, though it knocked her back. “Stand back you foals! This is our last warning!” roared Nightmare. “No!” retorted Lirael and her wrists flicked, Saraneth and Kibeth swayed and the combined voice of the two bells assaulted the equine. “Abhorsen, no Remembrancer! This is not over!” screamed the equine. The Nightmare’s shape began to collapse, changing into a starry cloud of Free Magic. It fled, Ellimere cut at it with her sword, but it was like cutting through fog. The magic fled, rushing past Lirael and into the doorway, that was rapidly closing. “After her!” yelled Ellimere, Lirale didn’t hesitate and the two women dived into the small door, just managing to get in before it closed behind them.