The Athanas Stone
I struggle to accept that Lord Varesh is a powerful mage, yet I have little doubt regarding his extensive knowledge of the world. He seems absorbed in his own thoughts, and his mischievous demeanor adds to his eccentric nature. Lord Varesh can exhibit genuine acts of kindness, but most of his deeds appear entirely selfish. This ambiguity surrounding his personality, and magical abilities leaves me questioning whether he is indeed a genuine practitioner or a cunning charlatan.
Danan. The Third Great Age. 3031.
bright new world, and his eyes adjust to behold his new surroundings. A vast and elaborate room, expansive in its grandeur, stretches out before him. His shoulders tense as he gazes in awe at the opulence of the room. Hundreds of coffered, golden tiles adorned with decorative gilt roses are in full bloom, with The Great Eye of The One at their center. The golden tiles shimmer in the candlelight, casting a magical aura. Glassy marble pillars rise from the ceramic floor, climbing towards the vaulted ceiling. Towering candle holders, as tall as a man, stand between the monumental pillars.
Statues of unfamiliar creatures stand in the grand archways. An alabaster bull with the stern face of a bearded man stands upright, dancing on its hind legs. A marble horse takes flight, poised on widespread wings. Danan’s gaze darts between the unfamiliar statues. His fingers graze over the statue closest to him, and his reverent touch traces down a beautiful goddess with polished alabaster skin. Cool to the touch despite the warmth of the room, her naked, winged torso rests atop a giant, coiled snake. Carved rivers of stone milk flow from her cupped breasts down her sculpted body.
Danan’s expression fills with puzzled amazement as his mesmerized gaze dances over the epic mural that envelops the entire hall. Lost in an esoteric world, his steady gaze drifts around the hall in awe.
“Beautiful, is it not?” Lord Varesh gives Danan a questioning look.
“It’s unlike anything I’ve ever seen.” Danan’s awestruck gaze lingers on the frescoed hall.
The hall stretches towards a triumphal marble arch adorned with mystical mosaics. Three sleigh beds sit before an enormous fireplace beneath an imposing arch where a well-tended fire hisses and pops, carrying the heavy scent of burning fruitwood.
A long, polished wooden table glistens like a flawless lake in the center of the great hall. The most powerful mage in all the kingdoms sits at ease at the far end of the table.
Danan’s footsteps echo across the room as he approaches the table. “Lord Varesh, forgive me,” he stammers, fumbling with his apologetic words. He stands off to the side of the table, unsure of which seat to choose.
Lord Varesh’s solemn expression gives away nothing but an imperceptible quirk of faint amusement. He gestures for Danan to sit, his hand open and his palm facing upward, with an invitation to ease his uncertainty. “Come now, Danan, sit.”
Danan’s chair squeaks on the shining ceramic floor as he sits at the opposite end of the table.
The two men lock eyes in a fermenting silence as Lord Varesh observes Danan with stanch attention.
The mage’s piercing, electric blue eyes shine like bright alpine lakes. He grins with faint amusement, a tight-lipped smile that twitches at the corners. Thick, gray eyebrows rise high on his smooth brow, and an immaculate, short gray beard hangs from his austere face. His bright yellow robes, stitched with silver thread, seem to emit a soft glow. The mage wears a large golden ring in the shape of a blooming flower, with The Eye of The One at its center on his right forefinger.
Danan searches for words in the growing tension. He finds his timid voice to break the prolonged silence. “It is a great honor to be here, Lord Varesh. My duty is to serve in whatever tasks you wish.”
“Serve you will, master monk. Welcome to my simple abode,” Lord Varesh gestures around the room with a broad smile. The tension dissipates. “Relax and make yourself at home. I am rather hungry, so I wager you are famished,” the mage says, giving a loud and methodical double clap that echoes throughout the hall.
Two grand gold-gilded double doors swing open at the far end of the gallery with a slight squeak. A long procession of maids, dressed in simple black silk gowns, strides into the great hall. Heads bowed, each maid carries an enormous platter of food or drink. They enter the hall with steps of well-trained purpose and in a fastidious dance the once-bare dining table now brims with food and drink from top to bottom. Dishes are served in an eclectic array of bowls and platters, some copper, others silver, gold, stone or crude clay.
The maids step back from the table, ready to serve like an army awaiting commands.
A banquet of extravagant food stretches before Danan. A roasted leg of lamb from the Thielian flats, shucked oysters from the Broken Bay, steaming deep-sea lobsters from the coast of Heb, and a roasted haunch of venison from the Royal Estate. A whole roasted salmon from the borders of Galt steams on a platter of lemon and herb butter sauce. Loaves of walnut bread from The Slaughters sit among bowls of succulent fruits and nuts sit amidst platters of ripened cheeses and smoked meats. A stew of roasted boar bubbles in a tapered clay bowl in the center of the table with glass jugs of ruby-red wine which glow in the low, flickering candlelight.
Danan’s senses overload as he inhales the rich aromas of rosemary and sage. Fresh lemon, thyme, and roasted pork fat climb into his puckering nostrils. The pungent smell of ripe cheese blends with the tang of smoke, garlic, and sweet, burnt onions. The woody smell from the popping fire mingles with the heady aroma of freshly baked walnut bread.
Hunger fills Danan’s eyes, and his belly roars as he gulps down mouthfuls of saliva. Danan has never encountered such food before. His experience is limited to the simple soups of the monastery, where a spoon was his only utensil, and the fare was bland and sparse. Meat, cheese, seafood—these are all foreign to his palate. As the rich aromas envelop him, Danan’s senses are overwhelmed. The scent of rosemary and sage dances in the air, mingling with the sharp notes of fresh lemon and thyme. The savory fragrance of roasted pork fat wafts into his nostrils, accompanied by the pungent tang of ripe cheese, the earthy smoke of burning wood, and the sweetness of caramelized onions. The heady aroma of freshly baked walnut bread fills the room, adding a comforting warmth.
Hunger gnaws at Danan, his eyes widening at the feast before him. His belly roars, and he swallows down mouthfuls of saliva, barely able to contain his anticipation.
Lord Varesh’s usual solemnity melts away, replaced by an almost boyish excitement.
“May I do the honors, gentlemen?” Cecil prances into the great hall with the grace of a strutting cockerel, his every move precise and practiced. He halts, his well-rehearsed smile perfectly in place.
“Cecil, perfect timing,” Lord Varesh exclaims, clearly delighted by the servant’s entrance. “This, master monk, is Cecil, my personal aide. I trust you are both acquainted."
“Danan and I have formed quite a bond." Cecil’s smile broadens, his teeth gleaming in the firelight as he clasps his hands together like a monk at prayer. With a flourish, Cecil signals the housemaids forward. The legion of servants moves with the precision of surgeons performing an intricate autopsy. They carve, slice, and arrange the dishes with meticulous care, presenting the fare on an array of platters.
“Let us talk on well-fed bellies." Lord Varesh nods, inviting Danan to eat.
Danan hesitates, his fingers fumbling with the unfamiliar array of cutlery. He awkwardly attempts to cut a piece of meat using the side of his spoon, the metal scraping uselessly against the tender flesh. Frustrated, he reaches for the blunt butter knife, using it to slice through the crusty walnut bread and soft cheese with more effort than necessary. The task feels clumsy, the knife struggling against the bread’s crispy crust.
His attention shifts to a lobster, its crimson shell gleaming under the candlelight. Danan stabs at it with his fork, trying to pierce the hard shell. The fork slips, and with a sudden flick, the lobster shoots across the table, landing with a thud near Cecil’s perfectly polished shoes.
The room falls into an awkward silence, the only sound the crackle of the fire and the distant murmur of the servants. Danan’s face flushes with embarrassment, but Lord Varesh merely chuckles, his eyes twinkling with amusement. “They’re trickier than they look.” He says with a grin, breaking the tension.
They continue to eat with gusto, each bite a revelation for Danan amidst the perfect choreography of the service. Conversation stutters and falters during the occasional awkward pause. The room falls into a heavy silence, broken only by the sounds of tearing flesh, the crunch of roasted skin, and the slurping of juicy, ripe fruits.
Meat juices and ruby red wine run down Danan’s chin and drip onto his immaculate new silk robes. Lost in a food orgy, time becomes superfluous for feasting.
The fourth revelation; gluttony.
Cecil leads the brigade of maids from the main hall and with an overelaborate, deep bow, he pulls the grand double door closed with a near silent click.
Hunger-satiated, Danan regains some dignity. His guilty eyes lower in shame. “Forgive me, Lord Varesh. It’s been a while since I last ate.” Danan's thoughts briefly drift back to his humble room in the monastery and meager bowls of thin vegetable broth.
Lord Varesh lets out a hearty chortle. “Nonsense. There are no apologies in the House of Varesh. May we talk as friends, Danan? It has been a long time since I have had company. A welcome change.”
“It is my honor, Lord Varesh.” Danan’s cheeks flush with the effects of the wine.
“Then let us sit by the fire and talk as friends."
Feeling tipsy, Danan perches on a gilt-wood chaise lounge while Lord Varesh slouches at home. The fire crackles and pops as golden embers dance in gentle plumes of wood smoke.
“Do you have something for me, Danan?”
Slow recollection dawns on Danan’s face as he rummages within his new robes to find the small, round bundle. He passes it to the mage with shaking hands. “High Priest Anon, bid me to deliver this to your care.”
Lord Varesh unwraps the small bundle of cloth, revealing an obsidian, perfectly polished sphere, no bigger than a child’s clenched fist. In the glowing firelight, the stone shines, reflecting the flickering flames. Lord Varesh gazes into the stone and rubs its surface with his fingertips. The sphere glows, its surface rippling with golden symbols.
“What is it?” gasps Danan.
“This, master monk, is from the first age of man. The stone has gone by many names. In this age, we know it in this age as the Athanas stone." The mage spins the ball between his fingertips.
“What does it do?” Danan’s curious gaze fixates on the glimmering globe.
“Let me tell you a tale, Danan.” Lord Varesh gestures around the hall with widespread arms. “On these very walls is a history that few can recall.”
Danan follows the mage’s hands to the start of the mural. “From chaos, the great creator, The One, creates all life,” the mage begins, looking at Danan, who nods with zealous pride. “Many do not know that The One’s first creation was a force named Ana.”
The monk frowns, raising quizzical brows. He looks at the mage, who stares at him with unquestionable authority, silencing any questions.
“The One created all life, but Ana created the elements and the world as we know it,” the mage gestures to the mural where an immense black dragon emerges from angry seas. “Ana chose his own physical form and made for himself the body of a great winged serpent. Ana made the oceans with his tears, the tides with the beating of his wings, and with his claws, he shaped the deepest chasms and the rivers of the earth.”
The mage follows the painted mural with his hand. “Avos transformed at Ana’s every wish and command. From the deepest seas to the highest peaks, Ana crafted his perfect paradise.” Lord Varesh rises from his seat and stands before the fireplace. “Then, when the fertile lands were ready, The One created birds, beasts, and then man. In a forgotten age, long before our own great cycles of time, mankind worshiped Ana with equal reverence as The One. But as mankind flourished, they ploughed Ana’s lands, felled his forests, dammed his rivers, climbed his mountains, and sailed his seas.”
The mage pours a large goblet of wine and passes it to the captivated monk. “Ana’s anger grew as mankind defiled everything he had created. Civilization flourished along with man’s insatiable greed. They plucked the rarest of Ana’s elements from his sacred ground, and Ana’s anger turned to hatred.”
The mage gestures to the mural where the dragon, Ana, soars in the heavens beneath The One’s nebula eye. “Ana pleaded with The One to remove the stain of mankind from his earth. The One wept, for Ana could not see past his blind hatred.”
Lord Varesh tugs at his short, groomed beard. “The One forbade Ana from annihilating, man. So, in his cunning, fueled by malice, Ana forged beings of his own—the Umbal, a race of demons born from his hatred, forged by shadow, without physical form. Their purpose was to deceive mankind, and from the Umbal’s wickedness, Ana’s evil flourished and spread like a plague. All succumbed to Ana’s malignant corruption.”
Lord Varesh wanders from the fireside and stands beneath the mural of a giant armored man. “Ana’s hatred of mankind and The One festered, so he fashioned himself a new form and walked among men as a God, a giant of a man, so all marveled at his size, power, and wisdom.” The mage gestures to a giant painted pyramid that touches the sky. “Ana put mankind to work, building him temples that reached the heavens. In these temples, man worshiped Ana with death, fire, and blood.” Lord Varesh gestures around the great hall, pointing to the hybrid humanoid statues standing in the grand archways. “Ana cannot create pure physical life, so he used his corrupted craft to fuse man and beast, creating creatures to his own liking.” The mage turns and points to a mural to the upper right of the fire. “In the shadow of The One’s throne, Kabel; Ana built his own throne so The One would witness mankind’s adoration of him as an equal.”
Lord Varesh wanders below the next mural. “Ana went unpunished, so he challenged The One and questioned his judgment. Why allow such vile creations to flourish and defile his perfect land? To which The One replied with only two words. Free will.”
Lord Varesh points to a huge painting that stretches the entire length of one wall with outstretched hands. “Ana was so enraged, he rose again, back in his serpentine form and laid waste to all he had created. Man burned in his flames, and mountains crumbled beneath his feet. The oceans rose and flooded every shore; they boiled into nothing but scorched and desolate lands of red sand. His fire engulfed all the good that remained. Mankind dwindled, living in fear; they fled underground. In the decaying night, as mankind starved, they consumed their own. It was a dark and unforgiving time of cruel chaos and malignant ruin.”
Lord Varesh gazes at Danan, unwavering. “Ana settled on the highest peak in Avos, Mount Gorochen, and admired his destruction. The One wept for his greatest creation. Ana, his own embodiment, had defiled all the good they had done. The One could not destroy Ana, for the forces of Ana governed the world. That night, as Ana slept, The One commanded Mount Gorochen to rise as a mound of spinning clay and bind him within the stone. The mountain rose and consumed Ana, and Ana wept a single tear of flame that set into a stone.”
Lord Varesh spins the obsidian Athanas Stone between his fingers. “The Athanas Stone is that tear. It wields the power to both create and destroy in equal measure. The master of the stone wields a craft too powerful to comprehend.” A solemn look falls on the mage’s face. “The Athanas Stone is a cursed relic yet possesses unique value.”
“Can such a power even exist?” Danan can’t hide the tremble in his voice.
“I do not know. The Athanas Stone serves another master. I am a caretaker of the stone until its master reveals itself. It is my duty as an Elim to protect the stone and its master. I entrusted the Athanas Stone to the Order of The One. Anon kept it guarded day and night in the deepest of vaults within the old passageways of the Needles.” The mage fixes Danan with an unblinking stare. “I’m sorry, Danan, for the secrecy and the burden you carried." Lord Varesh nods to Danan in gratitude. “Anon chose you, Danan, to bring the Athanas Stone to me. The old path is treacherous, but should the Athanas Stone have fallen into the wrong hands, the world of Avos would come undone.”
Danan squirms under the mage’s relentless stare, then changes the subject. “What about the history of the Elim, Lord Varesh?”
“The One deemed that the Elim, or man’s elected ones, should guide humanity away from Ana’s destructive forces. Peacekeepers, so to speak.” The mage looks across the great hall to the gardens. “But that, master monk, is a different tale for another time. The first dawn approaches.”
Danan follows the mage’s glance towards the gentle glow of peachy orange rising in the gardens.
The mage places a steadying hand on Danan’s shoulder. “Much will seem unusual to you, Danan. I ask you to trust and serve me, as you did our good friend, Anon.”
Danan fidgets with his robes and scratches his head. “I will do my utmost, Lord Varesh. Are there specific tasks you have in mind?”
“Yes, many.” The mage turns to face Danan with raised eyebrows. “First, regather your strength. We will secure the services of a new companion, and then we shall determine your purpose.”
Lord Varesh spins the rippling black orb between his fingers before he tucks it into his robes. “Now go, rest. We have a busy turn ahead of us.” Lord Varesh gives Danan a curt farewell nod.
Danan rises from the couch, sobriety creeping into his being. Apprehensive, he hides his shaking hands behind his back. “As you command, Lord Varesh.” He departs from the great hall and wanders into the gardens, where the dreamy, pale dawn of the first sun peeks through the orchard. His head swims with thoughts of mystical beings, hidden lore, and secretive magical artifacts. A thousand questions run through his doubting mind as he stumbles his way towards his bedchamber.
The fifth revelation is that the world is not as it seems.
Danan’s dreams are dark and etched in fire.