Richard Tuttle - Elvangar

“Everyone thinks that I need to speak to Kaltara,” Rejji said nervously. “How do I do that?”

Chief Dumo smiled broadly, and Yltar put his arm around the Astor. The head shaman led the Astor out of the library and along a corridor to the center of the pyramid temple. Just off the center of the temple was a doorway three steps higher than the other doors. Yltar stopped outside it.

“This door leads to the prayer room,” declared the head shaman. “There is little beyond the door, but a small round room. It is a holy place of meditation. I will not enter it with you, for it is your desire to speak to Kaltara. I will wait outside for your return. Is there anything else that you wish to know?”

“Yes,” Rejji nodded nervously. “What do I do inside?”

Yltar smiled benevolently. “As head shaman, you would expect me to know the answer to that question, but I do not. I have been inside the chamber many times during my lifetime. I have issued many prayers to Kaltara during those visits. He has never spoken to me. I have often felt his presence, and I almost always emerged feeling invigorated and fresh, but not a word was ever heard by me, but then again, I am not the Astor.”

“I am confused,” admitted Rejji. “I have never prayed before, and it sounds like not much happens. How will I know when it is time to leave? What should I pray about?”

“It is said that inside this chamber, Kaltara lives and breathes,” explained Yltar. “You may not see him, and you may not hear him, but you should speak to him as if you stood before him. As to what you should ask, speak from your heart. Ask him for direction in those areas where you feel you need it. Ask for answers to questions that trouble your soul.”

“But if he does not answer,” frowned Rejji, “how will I receive my answers?”

“You may not receive any answers,” replied Yltar, “or you may and not know it. Even if he does not speak to you, you may find you now have the answers that you sought within yourself. Be at ease, Astor. While you may not know Kaltara, be assured that he knows you. Go and commune with God.”

Rejji nodded and inhaled deeply. He climbed the three steps and opened the door. He stepped into a perfectly round chamber and shut the door. When the door closed, it sealed off the torchlight from the corridor outside. The room was completely black. Rejji could see nothing. He reached for the door to open it a crack to allow some light in, but the door refused to open.

Rejji did not panic. He assumed that Yltar had locked the door so that Rejji would not immediately turn around and leave. He silently thanked the shaman for his act because Rejji thought he might have left if he had opened the door. Rejji walked blindly forward until he felt as if he was in the center of the chamber. He stood there silently for several minutes as he tried to think of what to say. Finally, he opened his mouth.

“Kaltara?” Rejji asked meekly. “Are you here?”

There was no response. Ordinarily Rejji would have felt very foolish for his actions, but he had heard about Emperor Marak’s visit to Changragar. While the Torak had not explained what had happened, he did tell Rejji that Kaltara did indeed exist. God had talked to the Torak.

“Kaltara,” Rejji tried again, “I seek your guidance. I have been told that I am the Astor, but I truly do not know what that means. Tell me what you would have me do? How am I supposed to serve you?”

Rejji felt suddenly warm and elated. He could understand the warmth as he was in an enclosed chamber and very nervous, but he was at a loss to explain his happiness.

“It is my warmth that you feel,” boomed a voice from above Rejji. “It is my joy. You come to me as nervous as a new bride, and yet you ask only how you can serve me. You are my Astor indeed.”

Rejji’s heart beat furiously, and he swallowed hard. His mouth turned dry as he tried to think of what to say next.

“Do not be dismayed by your lack of knowledge of the Astor,” the voice said soothingly. “The Astor is who you are, and you are who the Astor is. There is no set of rules to govern your actions. There is only a goal. You are the shepard of the Qubari and the Fakarans beyond the jungle. Gather my people. Care for my people. Prepare my people to defend your God. That is the Astor.”

“And how do I do that?” asked Rejji.

“Have you not already begun?” replied Kaltara. “Do not half the people already cling to you?”

“Half?” gulped Rejji. “Do you mean the Jiadin are your people, too?”

“Are they not Fakarans deserted from the Evil One?” asked Kaltara. “Unite my people, Astor. Make them strong, for the Time of Cleansing is soon upon you. All will be needed to survive the forces of evil.”

“I shall do as you command,” promised Rejji.

“So you shall,” replied Kaltara. “In a few days’ time, you will journey to the ancient city of Angragar along with the Star and the Torak. Cleanse that city of the unholy, for Angragar is to rise again. Once more Angragar shall have a holy king to rule over the land before the Fortung Mountains. Open the city gates and bring my people inside. Renew her harbor and her great buildings, for the jungle shall fall away from her walls and be no more. Do that, and I shall reside within that great temple once again.”

“I will see it done,” promised the Astor. “Angragar will rise anew. That is my pledge to you.”

“No, Astor,” replied Kaltara, “that is my gift to you and my people. Your pledge is to defeat the evil.”

“Vand has an army of over a million,” Rejji said nervously. “How can I hope to defeat him?”

“How can you afford to fail?” countered Kaltara. “All that is good and holy rides on the shoulders of the Three. Where man has created a false god, man must redeem himself by destroying the usurper. The task belongs to the Three.”

“Then we shall be victorious,” Rejji said with more hope than conviction.

“We shall see,” Kaltara said without emotion. “Sleep now for there is much that you must learn.”

Rejji felt a weariness flow through his body. His eyes closed without bidding, and his knees grew weak. He dropped to the floor and fell on all fours. A heavy weight pushed him downward until he was prone, his face flush against the cold stone of the floor.

Suddenly, the room burst into blinding brilliance. Disjointed visions swam before his eyes. He saw the ancient city of Angragar, as it must have appeared in its heyday. It boasted a magnificent harbor with ships waiting to dock to unload their exotic goods. Well-dressed citizens moved to and fro throughout the city. He saw King Regis on the thrown in the palace. He saw a young Vand in the throne room petitioning the king for power.

The visions started flying past his eyes at a frantic pace. He saw the turmoil caused by Vand’s people as they tried to disrupt the rule of King Regis. He saw the elves attacking the city, huge siege engines hurling burning embers into the city, people screaming and fleeing for their lives. He saw the masses of citizens flee the great city, leaving it an empty hull. He saw the ground erupt into blossoming plants and grow skyward as they twisted and tangled together.

The scenes ripped by at an ever-increasing rate until everything was one big blur, but he knew that he would remember even the scenes that sped by too fast to recognize. Unexpectedly, everything went black.

“It sure looks as if elf relations were just as the Qubari say they were,” MistyTrail said. “Over the past few days we have read story after story about how good the relations between the humans and the elves were. How can you still insist that humans are you enemy?”