Book 3: The Golden Ashes SNEAK PEEK
Cold, rigid, hard steel usually isn’t, under normal circumstances, considered inviting or even remotely relaxing and many times is considered in the same conversation with the words jail cell. Young Rylen didn’t mind, though. To him and his counterpart and sidekick Havenrose, the elevator attendant, it could have been a warm goose down mattress for all they had just been through. From what they had just escaped. The dreary floor of the clanky old elevator felt as assuring to them as being home nestled under a heavy blanket enjoying the crackling noises, the glowing embers and the cozy warmth of the fireplace. Although neither of them had been “home” in a while. The elevator would have to do. And it was doing just fine.
No more ice bears, thought Rylen, lying motionless and staring into the flickering lights sunken into the upper cage of the elevator, as it moaned its way down the guts of the Gustavor Building.
No more blizzards, thought Havenrose with a sigh, relieved that she couldn’t see cold crystals forming in the vapor from her breath anymore.
No more Darkadiens, or giant birds whose wings filled the sky, and all the other dangers that Iklandangar E’e Narte posed to the two young children. It was all safely behind them. They had just spent the last few days in the treacherous Ice Range of the North evading all of the dangers the frozen peaks had to offer looking for the Crystal Claw, the first of Nabuk’s treasures. An artifact so powerful that it allowed its holder to control the weather of the Known World. Ursak von Nortik, a long ago King of Pauzaland, was once the holder of it and used the power of the Crystal Claw to his advantage and discretion, for the good and the bad. Until one day when Prince Gustavor secretly apprehended the Crystal Claw and hid it in von Nortik’s own creation, Iklandangar E’e Narte. A place so frigidly fierce and intimidating that no one sane enough would go searching for it.
It’s not that Rylen is insane. It just so happens that he more than slightly motivates himself through extreme adventure. To not be afraid to die is one thing, but to laugh in the face of death and danger while being afraid of dying is another. That was the emotion Rylen eagerly sought while performing all of his shenanigans back in school. Putting ink his teacher’s tea or a snake in the headmaster’s desk drawer wasn’t life threatening, but to an eleven-year-old boy it is pretty close. When he came to live and work with his great uncle, Arvon Dourefield, the retired history professor, he just upped his ante on what kind of actions would be considered as life-threatening. Maybe his parents sent him away so he couldn’t cause them anymore grief. Maybe they needed a break from him. Or maybe, simply, he was meant to be the archivist for this enchanted museum. He couldn’t perform any pranks, nor did he want to while at the Gustavor Museum. He had to raise the level of his adrenaline somehow. And the adventures he had recently experienced within the locked floors of the museum certainly gave him the opportunity to heighten his adrenaline and reevaluate the meaning of his life.
He had found it, though. The Crystal Claw. Amazingly. With a little luck and perhaps fate he discovered the little artifact camouflaged within a solid layer of ice just near where the elevator opened its doors within a valley of Iklandangar E’e Narte. With his ice pick he chopped it from the ice and alongside Havenrose slid into the safety of the elevator seconds before a multitude of blood thirsty ice bears would have undoubtedly made mince meat of the two children. He had faced death on more than one occasion in Iklandangar E’e Narte. And each time he laughed and survived. Could be his pride. Could be his stubbornness or even his determination. Whatever fueled and accompanied his adrenaline kept him alive though. Rylen knew he was smart. Teachers and headmasters had been telling his parents and him that for years. Rylen would like to tell you the reason he was still alive was because of his smarts, his wits and quick thinking. However, he too, was surprised he was still alive. He had beaten the elements, rose against the odds and even outlasted five of the ruthless assassins, known as the Darkadiens. It must have been his smarts.
Rylen laughed. His body felt numb, strange, bouncing on the elevator floor as he laughed.
Havenrose rolled onto her side. “What is so funny?” she asked in her thick metropolitan accent. A conspicuous smile brightened a corner of her mouth.
Rylen got to his feet and held the Crystal Claw in front of him. It shimmered brilliantly flashing sparkles around the ceiling and walls of the elevator cabin like a sparkling firecracker.
“DING!” The doors opened. Rylen quickly deposited the Crystal Claw in the side pocket of his parka. A blast of even warmer air infiltrated the steel cage. They were at the lobby. He could see the dingy display cases in the center hall and beyond that, morning sunlight pierced through the entryway's glass doors.
How long have we been gone, thought Rylen. Time was different within the mystical floors of the Gustavor Building. It was morning, Rylen could tell by the angle the rays of sunshine lasered through the windows. But what day was it? They had cracked the code and entered Iklandangar E'e Narte on a Wednesday, Populas City Time. Was it Thursday? Friday? Or the weekend?
A bright ray of sunshine glinted off of the floor in the entryway and found its way to the corner of Rylen's eye. He intercepted the ray with his hand that still clutched tightly to the bloodstained ice pick until the heavy steel doors of the elevator began to close. Blocking out the morning sun completely.
Suddenly, the doors halted to a stop. A spear, or something of the like had been wedged into the elevator's threshold. Rylen and Havenrose scooted to the back of the elevator as the doors slowly retracted back to their open position.
“Back from another adventure, are we?” a frail voice asked. It came from only a silhouette. The person took another step forward and entered into the dim artificial light of the elevator.
It was Uncle Arvon, with cane in hand.
“And by the way you two are dressed,” he said. “It seems as though you have been on an adventure within the frozen peaks of Iklandangar E'e Narte. Perhaps discovering the hiding place of the first of Nabuk’s.”
He took a couple more steps toward the children at the back of the elevator until he stood directly in front of Rylen. The old man, with a glint in his eyes and a crooked smile held out a boney hand and asked, “do you have it?”
Rylen laughed again. Havenrose wasn’t sure if he was laughing because he was relieved to have made it back to the Gustavor Building safely or if he was having a mental breakdown from everything they had just gone through. Her smile turned rigid as she tightened her lips and hopped to stand next to him. Ever so slowly Rylen withdrew the Crystal Claw from his pocket and let it dangle in front of them. Refracting the rays of sunshine The Crystal Claw’s sparkles flashed and caught the attention of Havenrose.
“It’s beautiful,” she said gazing in awe at the sparkling claw. “What is it?”
“It is nothing to trifle with. Let me have the Crystal Claw,” said Uncle Arvon. The frail old man scurried surprisingly quick and snatched the Crystal Claw from the grasp of Rylen’s mitten. He tucked it neatly into his vest pocket where he kept his watch and then exited the elevator just as fast. Rylen and Havenrose followed as they began to shed their outerwear. The elevator had brought them to Floor One and as they walked past some messy, dust laden display cases the warmth of the sunshine filtering through the large glass windows of the lobby began to uncomfortably penetrate through the children’s parkas to the core of the children’s bodies.
“We did it,” Rylen said nearly stepping on the heels of the little old man. Uncle Arvon was bent over his walking cane and looking like a cane himself ignored the boy. “We found it and brought it back safely.”
“You have,” said his uncle, seemingly not impressed.
“I haven’t even had the chance to examine it yet,” Rylen said holding out his hand.
“In time, my good lad.” The professor continued a consistent pace toward the lobby front door.
“But,” argued Rylen. “We risked our lives. Shouldn’t I have an opportunity to examine it? I mean, as Director of Archives of the Gustavor Museum, isn’t that my right? My Duty?”
The professor abruptly stopped and turned to his nephew looking him directly in the eyes behind his little round spectacles. Rylen’s breath was quick and deep to match the rhythm of his heart. His cheeks were still a blistery red from spending days in Iklandangar E’e Narte.
“My boy,” Uncle Arvon said calmly as he tapped his pocket. “This is not gold, nor silver, nor any earthly jewel that one would cherish. This is created from a foreign land so far away that you can’t even see it among the brightest stars on the clearest of nights. As I said…it is not to be trifled with and should definitely not be in the hands of a boy.” He continued his walk toward the front door leaving Rylen furiously in self pity.
“A boy!” Rylen fumed. “A boy! I risked my life for that thing. I outlived five Darkadiens. I survived attacks by so many invisible bears, that even if I could see them, I probably couldn’t count that high! And, I beat the harsh elements that the frozen peaks of the Ice Range threw at me. Now, you are calling me a boy?”
No more ice bears, thought Rylen, lying motionless and staring into the flickering lights sunken into the upper cage of the elevator, as it moaned its way down the guts of the Gustavor Building.
No more blizzards, thought Havenrose with a sigh, relieved that she couldn’t see cold crystals forming in the vapor from her breath anymore.
No more Darkadiens, or giant birds whose wings filled the sky, and all the other dangers that Iklandangar E’e Narte posed to the two young children. It was all safely behind them. They had just spent the last few days in the treacherous Ice Range of the North evading all of the dangers the frozen peaks had to offer looking for the Crystal Claw, the first of Nabuk’s treasures. An artifact so powerful that it allowed its holder to control the weather of the Known World. Ursak von Nortik, a long ago King of Pauzaland, was once the holder of it and used the power of the Crystal Claw to his advantage and discretion, for the good and the bad. Until one day when Prince Gustavor secretly apprehended the Crystal Claw and hid it in von Nortik’s own creation, Iklandangar E’e Narte. A place so frigidly fierce and intimidating that no one sane enough would go searching for it.
It’s not that Rylen is insane. It just so happens that he more than slightly motivates himself through extreme adventure. To not be afraid to die is one thing, but to laugh in the face of death and danger while being afraid of dying is another. That was the emotion Rylen eagerly sought while performing all of his shenanigans back in school. Putting ink his teacher’s tea or a snake in the headmaster’s desk drawer wasn’t life threatening, but to an eleven-year-old boy it is pretty close. When he came to live and work with his great uncle, Arvon Dourefield, the retired history professor, he just upped his ante on what kind of actions would be considered as life-threatening. Maybe his parents sent him away so he couldn’t cause them anymore grief. Maybe they needed a break from him. Or maybe, simply, he was meant to be the archivist for this enchanted museum. He couldn’t perform any pranks, nor did he want to while at the Gustavor Museum. He had to raise the level of his adrenaline somehow. And the adventures he had recently experienced within the locked floors of the museum certainly gave him the opportunity to heighten his adrenaline and reevaluate the meaning of his life.
He had found it, though. The Crystal Claw. Amazingly. With a little luck and perhaps fate he discovered the little artifact camouflaged within a solid layer of ice just near where the elevator opened its doors within a valley of Iklandangar E’e Narte. With his ice pick he chopped it from the ice and alongside Havenrose slid into the safety of the elevator seconds before a multitude of blood thirsty ice bears would have undoubtedly made mince meat of the two children. He had faced death on more than one occasion in Iklandangar E’e Narte. And each time he laughed and survived. Could be his pride. Could be his stubbornness or even his determination. Whatever fueled and accompanied his adrenaline kept him alive though. Rylen knew he was smart. Teachers and headmasters had been telling his parents and him that for years. Rylen would like to tell you the reason he was still alive was because of his smarts, his wits and quick thinking. However, he too, was surprised he was still alive. He had beaten the elements, rose against the odds and even outlasted five of the ruthless assassins, known as the Darkadiens. It must have been his smarts.
Rylen laughed. His body felt numb, strange, bouncing on the elevator floor as he laughed.
Havenrose rolled onto her side. “What is so funny?” she asked in her thick metropolitan accent. A conspicuous smile brightened a corner of her mouth.
Rylen got to his feet and held the Crystal Claw in front of him. It shimmered brilliantly flashing sparkles around the ceiling and walls of the elevator cabin like a sparkling firecracker.
“DING!” The doors opened. Rylen quickly deposited the Crystal Claw in the side pocket of his parka. A blast of even warmer air infiltrated the steel cage. They were at the lobby. He could see the dingy display cases in the center hall and beyond that, morning sunlight pierced through the entryway's glass doors.
How long have we been gone, thought Rylen. Time was different within the mystical floors of the Gustavor Building. It was morning, Rylen could tell by the angle the rays of sunshine lasered through the windows. But what day was it? They had cracked the code and entered Iklandangar E'e Narte on a Wednesday, Populas City Time. Was it Thursday? Friday? Or the weekend?
A bright ray of sunshine glinted off of the floor in the entryway and found its way to the corner of Rylen's eye. He intercepted the ray with his hand that still clutched tightly to the bloodstained ice pick until the heavy steel doors of the elevator began to close. Blocking out the morning sun completely.
Suddenly, the doors halted to a stop. A spear, or something of the like had been wedged into the elevator's threshold. Rylen and Havenrose scooted to the back of the elevator as the doors slowly retracted back to their open position.
“Back from another adventure, are we?” a frail voice asked. It came from only a silhouette. The person took another step forward and entered into the dim artificial light of the elevator.
It was Uncle Arvon, with cane in hand.
“And by the way you two are dressed,” he said. “It seems as though you have been on an adventure within the frozen peaks of Iklandangar E'e Narte. Perhaps discovering the hiding place of the first of Nabuk’s.”
He took a couple more steps toward the children at the back of the elevator until he stood directly in front of Rylen. The old man, with a glint in his eyes and a crooked smile held out a boney hand and asked, “do you have it?”
Rylen laughed again. Havenrose wasn’t sure if he was laughing because he was relieved to have made it back to the Gustavor Building safely or if he was having a mental breakdown from everything they had just gone through. Her smile turned rigid as she tightened her lips and hopped to stand next to him. Ever so slowly Rylen withdrew the Crystal Claw from his pocket and let it dangle in front of them. Refracting the rays of sunshine The Crystal Claw’s sparkles flashed and caught the attention of Havenrose.
“It’s beautiful,” she said gazing in awe at the sparkling claw. “What is it?”
“It is nothing to trifle with. Let me have the Crystal Claw,” said Uncle Arvon. The frail old man scurried surprisingly quick and snatched the Crystal Claw from the grasp of Rylen’s mitten. He tucked it neatly into his vest pocket where he kept his watch and then exited the elevator just as fast. Rylen and Havenrose followed as they began to shed their outerwear. The elevator had brought them to Floor One and as they walked past some messy, dust laden display cases the warmth of the sunshine filtering through the large glass windows of the lobby began to uncomfortably penetrate through the children’s parkas to the core of the children’s bodies.
“We did it,” Rylen said nearly stepping on the heels of the little old man. Uncle Arvon was bent over his walking cane and looking like a cane himself ignored the boy. “We found it and brought it back safely.”
“You have,” said his uncle, seemingly not impressed.
“I haven’t even had the chance to examine it yet,” Rylen said holding out his hand.
“In time, my good lad.” The professor continued a consistent pace toward the lobby front door.
“But,” argued Rylen. “We risked our lives. Shouldn’t I have an opportunity to examine it? I mean, as Director of Archives of the Gustavor Museum, isn’t that my right? My Duty?”
The professor abruptly stopped and turned to his nephew looking him directly in the eyes behind his little round spectacles. Rylen’s breath was quick and deep to match the rhythm of his heart. His cheeks were still a blistery red from spending days in Iklandangar E’e Narte.
“My boy,” Uncle Arvon said calmly as he tapped his pocket. “This is not gold, nor silver, nor any earthly jewel that one would cherish. This is created from a foreign land so far away that you can’t even see it among the brightest stars on the clearest of nights. As I said…it is not to be trifled with and should definitely not be in the hands of a boy.” He continued his walk toward the front door leaving Rylen furiously in self pity.
“A boy!” Rylen fumed. “A boy! I risked my life for that thing. I outlived five Darkadiens. I survived attacks by so many invisible bears, that even if I could see them, I probably couldn’t count that high! And, I beat the harsh elements that the frozen peaks of the Ice Range threw at me. Now, you are calling me a boy?”
