‘Thalen, wake up!’
Thalen opened his eyes and sat up. He glanced around the campsite, taking in the slumbering forms of Jaxon, Elara, and Lyra, their faces serene in repose. Aeolian, was unhurriedly grazing on a patch of grass that defiantly grew through the cracks in the ancient, cobblestone road. He rose from his bedroll, the horse barely acknowledging his movements.
‘Follow me, Thalen’ said the mysterious voice. It sounded like a man’s voice but soft and ethereal. Curiosity getting the best of him he walked toward where it appeared to be emanating from. He followed the path, passing by several tall buildings as desolate as the rest. He could feel the history of the ancient city, hear its echoes emanating from the very stone. The whole place made him feel strange, as though he had some sort of strange connection to it.
‘This way’ said the voice.
He slowed and looked to his right. A narrow alleyway deviating from the path. He hesitated the stark warning of the Peri fresh in his mind.
‘I mean you no harm.’
“Then show yourself,” Thalen challenged.
As if in response to his demand, a shadowy figure materialized at the end of the alley, giving form to another spectral presence. It advanced towards him, prompting his hand to instinctively reach for the dagger at his belt. But as the phantom drew closer, its form became clearer, revealing a towering figure. The spectral entity was a man, taller than any he'd ever encountered, and was arrayed in a resplendent suit of silver armour that shone even in the dim light.
“Who are you?” Thalen asked.
“"I am Arandal, Champion of Miramar. My bones lie in the valley back yonder but my soul lingers here." the ghost intoned, his voice echoing softly around the ancient stones of the alleyway.
“What do you want from me?” Thalen said his voice dripping with suspicion. The stories he’d heard of phantoms often made them out to be tricksters, this one could be trying to lure him into a trap.
‘My token lies down yonder’ the phantom explained pointing down the alley and at a large imposing domed structure. ‘I vowed to never rest until it is taken by someone worthy of it.’
“Worthy? I-I don’t think I’d be worthy of such a thing.”
Arandal smiled.
‘You have courage in your heart and the desire to protect others. Such traits are rare and I also sense that you have encountered a piece of the Orb.’
Orb? Did he mean the strange object used by the Aldarin to fend off the Shadow Minion?
‘Please follow me. Take my token and allow me to cross over and join my people in the heavens.’
Thalen hesitated. The spirit seemed genuine and the longing in its voice tugged on his heart strings. Reluctantly he agreed, if he could free the ghost then he would try. Glancing back over his shoulder toward the campsite he muttered, ‘I hope I don’t regret this.”
He stepped off the path and winced. Nothing happened. The ghost regarded him with an amused smile.
‘Fear not Thalen for you are doing my bidding and thus respecting the path. No ill shall befall you,’ it said reassuringly.
Thalen took a deep breath and followed Arandal. The ghost glided over the surface of the cobbled path until it reached the base of the wide stone steps leading into the towering domed building.
‘This is a temple of the goddess. When the city fell those who survived the battle sought shelter here. Alas, the foe breached the city and many souls perished.’
Inside the cavernous temple, a heavy air of melancholy hung over Thalen as he navigated around the skeletal remains. His heart was heavy, every step an echo in the vast space. Arandal led him to the heart of the sanctuary, its soaring dome painted with intricate mosaics of a bygone era. The soft, ethereal glow of the phantom provided the only illumination, casting a haunting aura over the desolate interior.
'Over there,' Arandal motioned toward an ornate altar at the end of the hall. Resting on it was a magnificent pauldron – ‘the Champion's Pauldron’. It was forged from a strange alloy, unlike anything Thalen had ever seen. Despite the temple's state, the pauldron looked as pristine as the day it was made.
'Go ahead, Thalen. Take it,' Arandal urged, his tone filled with a strange mix of relief and anticipation.
With trepidation, Thalen approached the altar. He reached out tentatively and let his fingers gently brush the cool surface of the pauldron. The intricate design was a testament to the craftmanship of the Mirai, a mix of strength and grace, intimidating yet inviting.
Taking a deep breath, Thalen picked up the pauldron. A rush of energy coursed through him, making him gasp. It wasn't an unpleasant sensation - instead, it felt as if he was tapping into a wellspring of strength and courage. The pauldron seemed to hum in his grip, echoing the beat of his heart.
'My gratitude, Thalen,' Arandal's voice was filled with reverence. 'You have given me the peace I have long sought. Remember the strength you hold. It is not just the strength of arms but the strength of heart that will guide you.'
As the spectral knight spoke these final words, he seemed to glow brighter, his form shimmering like a star. And then, with a final nod of his head, he faded, the soft light dissipating, leaving Thalen alone in the silent temple.
Holding the pauldron close, he retraced his steps through the eerie stillness, returning to his companions in the campsite. Aeolian regarded him with a curious eye and snickered. The horse pawed at the ground to get his attention. Thalen walked over to the magnificent animal and stroked its muzzle.
“You want to see what I’ve found?” he asked showing it the pauldron.
Aeolian sniffed it for a few moments and then neighed loudly waking the others with a start.
“What in the blazes!” Jaxon groaned grabbing his axe. Elara was on her feet, her hands ready to cast a spell at a moment’s notice.
“Sorry,” Thalen said sheepishly.
Lyra strode over to him her keen eyes glancing at the pauldron and then to Aeolian. The horse whinnied excitedly.
“Aeolian says that his master passed this way. He says that pauldron smells of him.”
“A horse with the nose of a dog huh,” Jaxon quipped.
“Hey, Thalen where’d you get that?” he asked noticing the piece of armour in his hands.
Thalen explained what had occurred, of the ghost and of his venturing inside the temple. Lyra gave him a disapproving look but seemed satisfied by Thalen’s tale.
"Do you suppose the ghost might have revealed itself to the Aldarin as well? Perhaps Arandal made the same request of it that he made of Thalen. It would explain why Aeolian recognizes the scent on the pauldron," Elara proposed thoughtfully.
"But why wouldn't the Aldarin have taken it then?" Thalen mused aloud. As he scrutinized the pauldron under the dim light, its craftsmanship and majesty seemed even more remarkable.
“Perhaps it wasn’t worthy,” Jaxon remarked.
“Perhaps, it believed it wasn’t,” Thalen said softly.
“Whatever the case, we should get moving. It’s difficult to judge the passage of time down here,” said Lyra.
Myths of Aldara: The Awakening Light is available to buy on all major retailers.
