The Kevah

Centuries later...

The Kevah’s fortress stood at the edge of an expansive desert, carved into the tallest sandstone mountain. The fortress was built by the Kevah’s ancestors, and seamless carvings in faded colors decorated the inner walls and told of their history. The oldest carving was on the far western hallway of the fortress that depicted the first Kevah and his men. Stone-by-stone, they built the first installment of the fortress with narrow halls. And they had used eiterium, a material thought to be impenetrable, to do it. So, no one expected the wall to crack, even when the mountain trembled. But, as the floors shook beneath their feet, fixtures ripped from the walls, shelves upon shelves in the Stacks collapsed, and a crack formed in the eiterium wall depicting the first Kevah.

The crack quickly ran the length of the wall, and a few hours later, many started to notice that the sun had stopped in the sky. Bells still tolled to mark the time, but the moon refused to shine. Then, the aftershock caused a portion of the wall to collapse. The clerks who worked in the Stacks first noticed the ironclad gate that the wall revealed, and the gate was covered in jagged symbols, made of harsh lines and sharp edges, repeating the same undecipherable pattern again and again, sealing the gate with an old incantation. There was no keyhole on the lock or anywhere on the door. Of all the former Kevahs, nothing like this was recorded in the histories; no hidden gate, and no sign that the eitrium could falter.

The young Kevah stood in front of the cracked wall. He looked over the symbols again and again, trying to work out the meaning. The shapes of the letters were odd, and its repetitive nature left his head reeling. Scribes and clerks came and went throughout the day, but after copying the symbols, they stopped looking at the gate itself, and their heads were again buried in the scrolls and books among the Stacks. The Kevah rubbed his eyes and sighed. No matter how long he looked at the patterns, he couldn’t come up with anything new. There has to be something, something I’m missing. He reached beyond the wall and dragged his fingers across the lines and symbols of the gate that were black against the gray exterior and smooth to the touch. Lifting his hand, he looked down at the rusted color that now dirtied his fingertips. He leaned against the wall for the hundredth time and pressed his ear to the gate, listening for any hint of what was beyond, but he heard nothing. The cold metal made his ears tingle and buzz, and he barely noticed the voice calling his name.

“Kevah-lin,” a voice echoed off the walls.

The young sovereign lifted his head from the wall and turned to find Councilor Taryn, a grizzled older man, shuffling down the candlelit corridor, his walking stick tapping the creviced floor as he went.

“Kevah-lin,” the councilor said again. “The Council is gathering in the Stacks to decide on a plan of action.”

“I already know what they are going to say,” the Kevah said.

The older man stopped in front of the gate and tapped his cane lightly against the floor. “Come to the meeting,” he said. “So we can sort this all out. The sun has not moved these past few days.” The old councilor nudged the Kevah and motioned down the corridor towards the Stacks. “What is a council meeting in Levasir without the Kevah present?”

“Is that a rhetorical question?” The Kevah asked, raised his eyebrows and eyed the older man. “A council meeting without the Kevah is a council meeting.”

“If you don’t show up,” Councilor Taryn said and looked inquisitively at the wall, “Itri might try to vote on the wall repairs without you.”

“He would try, I’m sure of it.”

The councilor tapped his cane against the gates, and it hummed with the reverberations. “Any news from the clerks, or from the Guardians, for that matter?”

The Kevah sighed. “The clerks do not know what it means, and no word from the Guardians yet.”

The old man motioned towards the gates with his bearded chin. “Are you sure you want to see inside?”

“Something caused the mountain to shake and the eitrium to crumble,” the Kevah said, “and I want to find out what. Whether it’s related to the sun remains to be seen.”

“But first,” Councilor Taryn said, “we should make our way to the Council meeting.” He nudged the Kevah again, harder this time, toward the Stacks.

The Kevah hesitated, his eyes lingering on the gates, but he followed the older man’s direction. “I suppose you’re right. I need a break anyway, otherwise I might go mad staring at this thing.” He turned his back to the gates and walked down the hall, the heels of his boots clicking against the stone floor.

The walk to the Stacks was short, and they soon heard harsh voices from further down the hall, and the Kevah picked up his pace, leaving the old councilor behind. The Kevah detested council meetings. It was impossible to get anything done. But Councilor Taryn was right. What was a council meeting in Levasir without the Kevah? Just a council meeting where no votes could be counted. He reached the large oak door and took a deep breath before he pushed open the door and stepped into the vast, dimly lit room full of shelves upon shelves of books and scrolls. The council members seated themselves around a long table in the center of it all with scribes a few feet behind each of them taking notes. The Kevah quietly walked towards the head of the table, and he could feel the tension in the air as he went.

“There are too many risks in letting the gates remain unprotected for so many hours!” Councilor Itri said.

“What risks Councilor Itri?” Siwa said. “We do not even know for certain that these events are related and not just a coincidence.”

“We do not know what will happen if we don’t repair the wall!” Itri continued. “This is a disaster of insurmountable proportions.”

“Itri is right, Siwa,” Idir said, and his eyes flashed towards her. “You are not even from here, so how could you know what is best?”

Siwa swiveled her head between the twin councilors, Itri and Idir. “This is an opportunity. We were not even aware these gates existed, and no one wants to know what is beyond?”

“Those gates are covered in symbols that none of us can read,” Midar said from the other end of the table. “And there is no keyhole. These are obviously signs of an old incantation that was not meant to be undone.”

The Kevah took his place, and the councilors quieted, their heads turning towards him one by one. “Councilors, thank you for your efforts. Let us officially begin this meeting.” He cleared his throat and sat down, all eyes fixed on him. “We cannot measure the intent of the person who sealed the gate based on our standards. The gate is so old that there is no record of it. It may just be a grave, an armory, or there may be extensive histories stored there. Whether it has to do with the sun not moving is unclear.”

“Unclear?” Itri asked. “It may be unclear, but we cannot rule out the possibility that they are related.”

“And that is why I have sent word to the Guardian Council of Mt. Vallea,” the Kevah said.

“Itri is right that we cannot say for certain that the gates and the sun not moving are separate events,” Councilor Midar said. “But the likelihood of them being related is great. And how would the Guardians be useful here, unless they were to go beyond the gate?”

“Once they arrive,” the Kevah began, “I want them to open the gate.”

Murmurs erupted as the councilors voiced their opinions, but Itri was louder than the rest. “Kevah-lin, we cannot!” Itri said, “We need to repair the wall, so that it is as strong as it was before, if not stronger.”

Idir nodded his head while his brother spoke and muttered in agreement. The twins were at least a head taller than anyone else in the room, and their bobbling heads were hard to miss.

The Kevah did his best to meet the eyes of each council member. “The Guardians are already on their way here, and—”

“The Guardians? They are useless,” Itri said. “When was the last time they accomplished anything worthwhile?”

“If they are so useless,” Siwa said, her dark eye simmering, “then send them beyond the gates to be useful.”

Itri glared at Siwa. “Send them beyond, and then leave it open until they come back? We cannot allow this.”

“Kevah-lin,” Councilor Taryn said loudly as he entered the room, finally catching up to the young monarch, and the Kevah turned.

“Councilor Taryn,” Siwa said, “You are late.”

“Forgive me, councilors, it is difficult for me to move quickly.” He looked at the Kevah and moved to sit on the other side of the twins.

“Kevah-lin,” Midar said. “We do need to repair the wall at some point, but there is no more eitrium in this world. What do you propose we do to repair the wall?”

The Kevah looked at the council members, some eyes waiting expectantly, some filled with menace and waiting for him to make a wrong move. “Councilor Airav,” he said and looked at the middle-aged man seated near Councilor Midar, “I want to put you in charge of the preservation of the wall. See if we can use eitrium from the foundations of this fortress to strengthen it.”

Itri forcefully breathed air out of his nose and glared down the length of the table at Councilor Airav.

“Of course, Kevah-lin,” Airav bowed his head, his long beard brushing against the table because of his short frame. “I will begin immediately.”

“Idir and Itri,” the Kevah continued, “I want you to go back through the histories with the help of the Stack clerks, and find anything about the gates that we missed.”

Itri’s jaw muscles clenched, and his eyes bulged from their sockets. “We went through everything twice already,” Itri said.

“Then be quick and do not linger on unnecessary manuscripts,” he said before turning to face the rest of the councilors. “And Taryn and Midar will meet with the Guardians, and see about gaining approval from the High Court to open the gates to go beyond for a short time.”

“Beyond the gates?” Midar asked. “Kevah-lin, do you think the gates were locked and buried so we could open them and look inside? We should not send anyone past the gates. Who knows what will happen?”

Some councilors’ heads bobbed up and down, and they looked amongst themselves for a sense of unity and assurance. The sound of the scribes’ frenzied pens continued. Kevah-lin placed his arms on the table and leaned forward. “Then shouldn’t we send them, Midar?” he asked. “Is it not better to know and understand a threat to prevent future harm than it is to wait and hope that it doesn’t rear its ugly head?”

“Again, Kevah-lin,” Itri said, “What have the Guardians contributed to society since the Clan Wars, besides serving as figureheads and a training ground for future clan leaders? Kevah-lin, you are proving you are young, ambitious, and uninformed. And you think nothing of putting everyone’s lives in danger. I ask for an allocation of power until this is done.” He looked out over the table to lock eyes with the other councilors.

An allocation of power… The Kevah stood and looked out over the weary council members. “Councilor Itri, with the world in such a state, I do not want to have to charge you or any other councilor with treason.”

“Treason!?” Itri asked, his eyes wide. “A disaster has taken place, and you are not equipped to handle the aftereffects. Council members let us take a vote for an allocation of power. Yes or no.”

“An allocation of power is unnecessary,” Taryn said. “Are you trying to remove Kevah-lin and dispose of him?”

Itri stood. “Let us vote Kevah-lin!” he said again. “It is within the council’s right to do so.”

“You mean it is within the High Court’s right to do so!” Siwa said. “A council has no right to remove the Kevah.”

“We are in the middle of a crisis,” Idir said.

A small grumbling of nods and agreeing tones rose from the Council.

“Since the Clan Wars, there has never been a Kevah younger than 40 to preside over the lands,” Councilor Jehona spoke out. “We agree that Kevah-lin is young and should step aside for the time being.”

“An allocation of sovereign power?” the Kevah asked. “It’s unheard of. Councilors, I am nearly thirty. This is unreasonable! Especially since there is no one besides me to reign as Kevah.”

“Before the Clan Wars,” Siwa said, “there were Kevahs who ruled in Levasir who were less than 40 years of age.”

“Like Idir said,” Itri added, “We are in a state of crisis.”

Midar stood and faced the Kevah, his eyes unwavering underneath their wiry brows. “Step down, Kevah-lin.”

“Step down? Councilors,” Kevah-lin said. “if my father was in my place, you would not suggest this.”

“And you are not your father, Kevah-lin,” Idir said. “Does the council agree?”

The murmurs quieted, and none of the councilors would meet the Kevah’s gaze.

“Until when would you have him step down?” Siwa asked. “Until he is 40 or until the gates are secure? Or would you have him step aside forever?”

“Go back to your people across the ocean, Siwa!” Itri said. “Your vote carries no weight here.”

“Itri, Idir,” Midar said, “That is enough. The gates will be sealed, Kevah-lin, and then your power will be reinstated. The clans and the High Court will not object.”

“Councilors, is this truly what you want?”

“It is,” said Idir.

“The Kevahs would be angry,” Taryn said. “I assure you.”

“Taryn,” Kevah-lin said and looked at the older man, before easing back into his seat. “Councilors, if this is what you agree on, then I will step down until the breech is secure. But I will be informing the High Court of this.”

Silence washed over the room.

Midar sat down and smiled. “A wise choice, Kevah-lin. I will also inform the High Court of what transpired today. Now, about the gates, Itri and Idir are in charge of the repairs, and Siwa and Airav will go through the historical documents. The rest of you wait for further orders, and everyone is to keep away from the gates. Guards will patrol the area; no one may enter or attempt to go beyond the gates. Also, Taryn, have the city gates closed. No one enters, and no one exits this city until the Guardians arrive, and then I will speak to them myself.”

The scribes all wrote with renewed fervor, their pens scratching endlessly with dark ink across tan parchments. The Kevah stood as the councilors dismissed themselves, and the scribes finished their note taking, hurrying after each councilor to begin their tasks. Taryn remained standing next to the table, and Siwa turned her head toward the Stacks. “I hope they know what it is they’re doing,” she muttered and paused next to the Kevah. She tapped her fingers against the polished table and without looking at him she continued, “and Kevah-lin, do not forget the Guardians will be here soon.”

He nodded. “If they received my summons.”

“You there,” Siwa spoke to a nearby clerk who was putting out lights. “Leave those candles lit and gather the Stack clerks. We have work to do.”

Her voice faded as she moved towards the first row of manuscripts and then further into the maze of shelves. Kevah-lin sat back in his chair once again. Taryn kept his head down and shuffled to the end of the table where the Kevah was seated.

“Forgive me, Kevah-lin.” Taryn said and put a creased hand on the Kevah’s shoulder. “They are afraid, but it will pass. I will see that you are reinstated immediately. They will have no reason not to do so.”

“After this is over?” Kevah-lin asked. “And if repairing the wall doesn’t fix it, Taryn? It makes more sense that whatever is behind those gates caused this, and I intend to find out what that something is.”