The Arkanist

Anor the Great

Chapter 14

Anor the Great

The next morning, Aera woke to an empty bed. The sheets were ruffled in a sea of carnage, as if a storm had just ravaged through. She left them be, wandering down the stairs to the common to search for the boy who shared her room. He sat alone beside the nearest window, two beads of rain loping down the dirtied glass like friends. She filled in the seat next to him, and nudged his small shoulder. He did not budge. In fact, he seemed to be rather asleep, his exaggerated breathes hissing out of his nose. Aera leaned closer to get a better look, and saw his eyes were closed and his head leaned heavily against the pane.

         A splitting rap against the carved wooden table jarred Aera to look about her. “I’m terrible sorry,” said Ollor, looming over her, massaging his fist. “I’m afraid all those days ago, in that blasted wagon when I was telling you about magic, I forgot the best part.”

         Aera rolled her eyes. She did not care to hear.

         “I forgot to tell you the greatest accomplishments of Anor the Great!” His voice pitched as he said the famous wizard’s name.

         Aera, reluctant, opened her ears as Ollor sat down opposite her, glancing at the tired boy. Shaking his head, he began, “Since we have a lot of time on our hands, I guess I’ll tell it to you in full detail.” He laced his gloved fingers like twine and sat them on the wood table, and leaned close. “If you’re going to talk about Anor the Great, you must start of course with how he became a wizard.

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The sky was streaked with thin blades of cloud, flushed pink as flowers from the bloated sundering sun as Anor made his way up the Thousand Stairs for the first time. It would not be his last either. The Thousand Stairs climbed up the ancient shoulders of the Mountains of Eayenril that reach into the sky like great bare teeth at the north end of the city of Falienn, to the awe of the people. In the time of Anor, Falienn was the second largest city of the Great Seven, behind only the capital of the powerful Atarrian Empire, Atarros, seated away along the Endless Sea.  The Seven Cities, were the only cities of the time, spread out through the giant continent of Laan, and Falienn was in the heart of the country. Each were connected by trade routes and great cobblestone roads, and each held a specific culture of people behind their walls.

         Though they were all part of the Atarrian Empire, not all of them cooperated. There was wars between them, and many battles. Most of which were fought between the northern most city of Beariv, and the capital city of Atarros. The barbaric tribes often raided the southern peoples lands, burning villages and besieging cities. They wanted freedom from the Atarrians, and a land of their own, high up in the north. However, they were never given it, for the Atarrians were a greedy people, and desired all the land for their own. The great city of Lothas, in the vast forests of Aeyana inland from the seaside city of Attaros, would aid Atarros sparingly if a siege of Bearivians would assail them. It seemed to happen often.

         Even though Falienn was the second largest of the cities, it was also the farthest from the capital. Not geographical, but culturally, behind even the Bearivians of the North, who were forced to adapt to the Atarrians harsh rule. The Falienns, however, were not forced. The King at the time of Anor, was Adionh, who ruled with an iron fist, and what he said was law. Those who broke it paid the iron price. The entire city of Falienn broke his laws, but he knew he could not destroy the city, for then he would loose thousands of gold each year from their mining. Instead, he made themselves make all their goods solely, and expelled them from their trade routes. After this, the city lived off itself, and lived well, to the dismay of Adionh, who believed once the city could not fend for itself, they would abide with his laws, only to be wronged.