Realm Law: Book Two of The Five Realms Trilogy

The trail wound steeply up and down the deep sand of the dunes. Mageroy guided them well, taking every care for their safety. On and on they walked. Darkness had descended and Roland was starting to grow dizzy when at last the cloths fell from his eyes. After a few moments of blurriness while he squinted hinto the weird glow, his pupils adjusted and he saw silvery lights shining overhead. As they came into focus, he saw that these lights were clusters of large spheres shining in the evening sky, each the size of a small moon. The orbs were not only twinkling brightly, but seemed to be vibrating, perhaps even pulsating like a beating heart.

“Look at that!" marveled Roland. "A sky full of moons!"

"They are not moons; they are stars," said Mageroy, far more subdued than Roland had seen him.

"Whether those be stars moons, I have never seen the like!” gasped Sloat. "See how they glow! It feels as though they are giving off heat of their own."

“They do give off something," affirmed Mageroy. "I know not what, nor can I even describe it. But I would not trade a minute of this light for a year of sunshine.”

Roland shivered with pleasure as a gentle massage penetrated deep into his muscles and soothed the marrow of his bones.

“To speak the truth, though,” continued Mageroy, “these are the smallest stars you shall ever see. Unlike the great stars of the heavens, these hang nearly within our grasp. If I stood upon your shoulders with a long pole, I could just about reach the lowest of them. Look at the light they shed and the shadows they cast and you’ll see they shine nowhere but in this clearing.”

While the three of them basked in the warmth of the stars, Mageroy’s daughters stepped into the starlight. The two oldest were dressed in silken robes, and their long, combed hair tumbled to their waists. They presented their guests with goblets of a fruity drink whose contents Mageroy would not reveal.

Lifting his glass, he declared, “May the light of the living stars renew your strength and your hope in these troubled times,” he declared. “Since the dawn of history, many a weary and downcast creature has lifted his countenance to them and come away renewed. Alas, these are all that remain.”

“’All that remain?’” repeated Sloat, tilting his goblet to inspect his drink. “What has happened to the rest? Why are the only stars I have known so far away and so cold and faint?”

Mageroy sighed. “Why do all the great treasures that remain in creation lie at the edge of or beyond the reach of mortals? Why is the splendor of the color lodes entombed in the deepest vaults of stone where none but the Gnomes with their matchless mining craft can infrequently scratch at them? Why are the great constellations locked away in the far reaches of inaccessible space? Look upon the last of the living stars and see your answer. Their fault is that they are simply too near and too beautiful. So near that a single evening of senseless vandalism could wipe out a collection such as this for eternity. Such has been the tragic fate of the living stars that once filled the Fourth Realm skies.

“The urge to destroy wrestles unequally with the urge to create. The greater the beauty, the greater the target is presented to those whose hearts are fouled with hatred or stupidity. You see, my friends, why I guard this place so tightly. Care of a precious gift has been entrusted to me. Protection of these stars is the price I pay for reclaiming my life from the order of wizardry, and I would willingly give that life in their defense. If the secret were out, I fear what you see now would be lost forever.”

“I understand fully,” said Sloat. “Please accept my apologies for my mistrust.”

They settled back on a thick pile of soft hay. Mageroy and several of his daughters plied the grizzled woodsman with polite questions about his society and the Tishaaran refuge in the mountains.

Roland, meanwhile, managed to get Katra to himself. At first, he found Mageroy’s frequent parental glances intimidating. But Katra was so pleasant and conversed so easily that Roland soon forgot about the old man and lost himself in her eyes. All he could think about was that he had never been so close to anyone this attractive. Just as he had never been so close to anything as beautiful as the living stars. He did not know if it was the pulsating radiation from the stars or the magic of her soft voice that flowed over his body like warm oil, kneading every muscle, bone, nerve, and follicle of hair. Whatever, he felt lighter and stronger and more alive than he had ever been in his life.

“Tell me more about the Fifth Realm, Katra,” he said.

“I have no proof or firsthand experience of the Fifth Realm. Nor do I wish it.” She lowered her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “I cannot even say for certain that it exists, that there is such a thing as the Fifth Realm.”

“What? But I thought it was just a given. Like it was a history or geography lesson that everybody knew. Now you’re telling me it’s just a myth?”

Katra smiled. “A myth? Let me put it this way: there are many who do doubt the existence of the Fifth Realm. The halls of learning in Orduna are full of such people, among them scholars and teachers of great learning. How easy is it to believe in a place to which no one over the vast generations has claimed access, much less offered proof of their travel?”

This new possibility disturbed Roland terribly. Is there magic in the Fourth Realm or isn’t there? Is there a Fifth Realm or not? Are these people making up the rules as they go along? Does anyone really know what is going on in the realms? If not, how am I ever going to get home?

He managed to collect his thoughts well enough to observe, “The Tishaarans seem to believe very strongly in the Fifth Realm. But then,” he matched Katra’s whisper, “they can be really gullible.”

“Yes, the Tishaarans believe,” said Katra, with a smile. “As do I. Perhaps I, too, am gullible."

Roland, you idiot! Way to put your foot in your mouth!

But she chose not to be offended. "I shall not try to persuade you one way or the other, she continued, pleasantly. "I can only tell you what I have read from the library of Orduna.”

Roland had imagined the High Realm to be kind of an ancient mythological world, a cross between heaven and Mount Olympus, where immortal souls sat upon the clouds and looked down on Earth and did whatever it was that immortal souls did to pass time. He had to admit, the whole idea had always struck him as primitive and naive. Had he not gone through his own reality crisis in traveling to the realms, he would have dismissed it as superstition.

But Katra began to tell a tale that put this hazy world of conjecture into clearer focus, and the result terrified Roland beyond anything he had yet hears. Even more than the indelible memory of Devil Throat.

“The Fifth Realmers are immortal spirits, formless and yet capable of assuming and discarding physical forms like suits of clothes. The powers they possess in their own realm range far beyond what we can attain, or even imagine, for they are not constrained by the boundaries of time or space. A Fifth Realmer could pass through you without you being aware of it. It could even enter your mind.

“In general, the Fifth Realmers exist much as we do in the lower realms. That is to say, they have different interests and abilities. They interact and communicate. They can form friendships and alliances, subject other spirits to their will, or persuade them to their view. There are greater spirits and lesser. There are spirits of a generous nature, known as Seraphim, capable of bestowing peace and contentment, ecstasy and rapture beyond imagining. Others, called Nephilim, are of a malevolent nature, sowing destruction and bitterness, sorrow and despair beyond endurance.

“Unlike our world, no gray area exists between the two. A Fifth Realmer is either a Seraph or a Nephil; there are no other choices, no neutral parties, as it were. For spirits feed on nothing but emotion, and there is no ambivalence in the emotions that make up their nourishment. Seraphim feed on joy and contentment and love, the Nephilim, on pain and suffering and fear.”

“So basically, you’re saying that there are good spirits and evil spirits,” said Roland.

“It is a far more complex than that. The Nephilim were not created evil. Like the Seraphim, they shared in the creative purpose. They had their role in creation—a positive, redemptive role. The Seraphim were made to feed on virtues, to multiple their effect, and return them threefold. The Nephilim were made to feed on pain and suffering and grief, so that they could absorb them and remove the excess from the world.

“The tragedy is that the Nephilim failed to control their appetites. Rather than contenting themselves with the ample store of grief that the world provided them, they saw a chance to grow stronger and to feed their appetites by creating more pain and anguish upon which to feast.

“And so long ago, in ancient days beyond the reach of memory, the Nephilim began to prey upon the very creation they had been designed to serve. Driven by a craving that never abated, a hunger that each feeding could satisfy but for a brief time before the hunger returned, gnawing the insides with ever sharper teeth, they grew to dominate the world."

Roland recalled the mirror image of himself on the island. If that was a Fifth Realmer I saw, and it's in cahoots with someone like Devil Throat, that means it must have been a Nephil. Even as he sat under the peaceful radiance of the stars, he shuddered to think that he had once looked upon one of these terrible demons up close and in person.

But that creature had been restrained by the realm bonds. Frightening as it may be in the abstract, it couldn’t actually do anything to him. Now, at this moment, he stood within a single realm of such horrifying creatures in all their power. Even more unsettling was the possibility that his own path might lay in that direction. This haunted realm, if it truly existed, obviously held the key to the Cold Flames, and that meant it held the key to his ever returning to his home.

“The Seraphim strove against the Nephilim and sowed seeds of peace where they could,” continued Katra. “But they were fewer and their passion could not prevail against the frenzy of their counterparts. There came a point where the Creator could no longer abide the vast gulf between those creatures in bliss and those in agony, and the Creator stepped in to deliver the weaker creatures from the depths of torment to which so much of creation was being subjected.”

“The Realm bonds,” said Roland. “Vyarlis.”

“You have hard of Vyarlis? Yes, the Realm bonds came into being at Vyarlis. Those who fashioned the bonds--the Creator enlisted the aid of many to undertake this arduous task--did so with a heavy heart. The lower realms wept at having to surrender the heights of peace and bliss they had known. The Seraphim wept at being cut off from their life source, from the smiles and laughter; tears of joy, expressions of love, and sighs of contentment were their lifeblood. Willingly, yet with utterly broken hearts, they came together at the Rock of Vyarlis to answer the Creator’s call and forge the realm bonds that banished them to a lonely and torpid existence in the Fifth Realm. The tears they cried as they completed this task rained down upon their beloved lower realms and were absorbed deep into the earth. There they remain to this day as the most precious of all gems in the lower realms: the color lodes.”

“Wow,” said Roland. “I’ve heard of the color lodes, but I had no idea what they were. What happened to the evil spirits. The Nephilim?”

“They, too, were doomed to perpetual starvation, for the realm bonds have taken from them the pain and misery on which they fed. The Fifth Realm is now home only weak and lethargic spirits, both Seraphim and Nephilim, who have lain without nurture for centuries.”

“Let me get this straight,” said Roland. “The higher realms surround the lower realms, so you can cross over from the Fourth Realm into the Fifth just like crossing the other realm borders. I mean, you’d be crazy to do it, but you can. Right?”

“Yes and no. Remember, spirits are not confined by time and space the way we are. Neither is their realm. The only boundary that applies to them are the realm bonds.”

“You lost me. What does that mean, in simple terms?”

“The Fifth Realm floats off in the distant sea. From time to time, it appears randomly off the coast of the Fourth, and then but briefly. Perhaps a few minutes at the most. A person could stand on the coast and wait a lifetime for this, and never see the Fifth Realm.”

“Okay, but when it does appear, could someone walk into it from the Fourth? And could someone from the Fifth walk onto the Fourth?”

“Yes. There are tales of creatures who have disappeared on the coast. I have even heard stories of people who have, out of curiosity, entered the Fifth when it appeared. None have ever returned that I know of.” Katra gave Roland a dark look. “Can you imagine why?”

Roland thought for a bit. “Oh man! You’ve got spirits up there starving for centuries because there’s no one to torment, and you walk into their realm? I don’t even want to think about it.”

That settled it; he was not going to the Fifth Realm. Ever. No matter what. He would be content to live out the rest of his life in Tishaara before he would even consider it.

“So getting back to the Cold Flames that I think I saw,” said Roland. “A Fifth Realm spirit could enter the lower realms, right? I mean, I know it would take a lot of guts or stupidity to leave the shield of immortality. But it is possible.”

“Oh yes,” said Katra. “But remember they cannot feed on human emotion in the lower realms. The bonds prevent that. Aside from the risk of mortality, I cannot imagine a spirit, evil or good, torturing itself by drawing so close to that which it most craves but cannot have. Nor could I imagine what any Fifth Realmer could want or get from the temporal realms.”

“So what you are saying is that we have nothing at all to fear from the Fifth Realm.”

“I did not say that. The Fifth Realm, as you have seen, can create mischief in the lower realms through dreams. But as long as there are realm bonds, I see no incentive for them to do so. The realm bonds not only protect us from the brunt of the Fifth Realm powers, but have eliminated any incentive for them to interfere in the lower realms. There is nothing in these realms that is of any use to them. So I would agree that there is little reason to worry about them.”

Roland heaved a sigh of relief. Maybe Digtry was wrong about this whole Fifth Realm conspiracy. But with his next incoming breath, another anxious thought reared its head. “`As long as there are realm bonds?’ You said the bonds were created. So isn’t there a possibility they could be destroyed?”

Katra smiled. “They were fashioned by the Creator. Who can destroy what the Creator’s hand causes to be?”

“Okay,” said Roland. He could buy that but he did not feel as reassured as he had hoped. Realm law says that Cold Flames cannot exist in the lower realms. Yet I’m pretty sure that’s what I saw, and Digtry seems to think that’s what I saw. And I saw a Fifth Realmer on the island. So just how watertight are those realm bonds?

Despite the stars’ penetrating massage, the contemplation of such thoughts filled him with anxiety. He shuddered. This Fifth Realm is like dabbling in the occult. I want nothing to do with it. I don’t even want to talk about it any more.

Seeing the change in him, Katra put a hand on his arm. Leaning as close as she dared under the vigilance of her father, she said, “I am sorry. This night was meant to refresh you, not worry you.”

“Oh, it has been refreshing,” said Roland, offering his brightest smile. “And it will be even more so from now on if we talk about other stuff.”

‘Father!” A breathless voice broke from the darkness. Moments later one of the younger daughters of Mageroy burst into view in the starlight.

“The Drooms!”

A hush fell over the clearing, so constricting that even the pulse of the stars seemed to cease.

“Father, they have raised their swords against us!" cried the anguished messenger, sweeping her sweaty, curly tresses from her eyes. "More than two score of our goats lie slaughtered in the Angelhair Valley. They are chasing them down and killing them.”

Mageroy turned red with fury. A blue vein throbbed on his brow. “The demented brutes! Maggots from hell, I tell you!” He puffed like a bellows as he fumed beneath the stars. “We have obliterated your tracks so thoroughly that they have no clue where to find you. But instead of admitting defeat and returning home, those accursed ghouls are trying to provoke me!

“Well, they have. By the blood of the stars, these minions of evil will never set their poisonous eyes on these stars, not if the entire Droom empire should descend upon the Valleys!”

”If I thought forgiveness possible for such a callous act, I would beg yours for leading the Droom to your graceful Valleys,” said Sloat, grimly dusting the hay off his robe. “They shall bother you no more! They seek Roland and me. We led them here and we shall lead them out. Thanks to your kindness, we can manage for awhile.”

“The savages!” fumed Mageroy. “Wantonly slaughtering livestock! Just for the sport! And they call themselves a civilized people!”

“Were those talking goats?” asked Roland.

“What? Oh, no. Only wild animals have the gift of intelligent speech,” said Mageroy. “But that makes the act no less despicable.”

“If you would be so kind, please show us our clothes and an exit from your land,” said Sloat. “We shall give them a new scent to follow to draw them away. We must prevent them from making war on your valleys. It is more than I could bear to think we have brought such conflict to your home and to the sacred stars we see here."

“Oh, it shall not come here!” said Mageroy, consumed by deadly rage. “The Droom shall never get close. None of them shall set foot alive in this valley. Their arrogance has sealed their doom!”

“Sir,” insisted Sloat. “This is all on our account. And I implore you not to take up arms against the Droom. To do so would bring unneeded bloodshed to your land, perhaps disaster, as well as shame to the people of Tishaara. I doubt not that you could dispatch this force of Droom with little effort. But the Droom are fierce and proud. See how they have pursued Roland and me, though our lives are not worth a hundredth of the effort they have expended. Their pride will not permit them to abandon the pursuit. Such haughty pride runs through all the Droom. If these few Droom were to die in the Thousand Valleys, ten thousand more would march upon you to exact a bitter revenge. And if those failed, ten thousand more."

Mageroy ground his teeth in fury, still plotting the annihilation of the intruders.

Sloat put a hand on his shoulder. “Think, Mageroy, how safe then would be these precious stars, now in your keeping? No, let it go. We have created this crisis and brought it to your doorstep. It is we who must remove it. Withdraw your animals at once to safety. We shall leave at once. By the lower junction, so they may find our track swiftly, and we shall leave you in peace.”

Mageroy glanced at the glowing stars, and sadness replaced the anger in his eyes. "You speak with both widom and courage," he said. "Can you elude them? These are the Droom, and there are no trackers like them.”

“We have learned to our sorrow, that their reputaiton is well-earned," said Sloat with a pained smile. "Nonetheless, we shall see what we can do."

Roland listened to this exchange in despair. Every time I think we’re safe . . .

“Father, is there anything in your store of powers that could be of use to our guests?” asked Katra, anxiously.

“What? Oh, yes of course. Yes, yes. I do not command the powers I once did, but the shelves are not bare. Let me think.” He regarded Roland and Sloat severely. “If only you were Fourth Realm natives we could invoke the lending power.”

“What is that?” asked Roland.

“The power to lend traits to others,” said Mageroy. “It is a birthright of all Fourth Realm beings. Were you natives of the Fourth, we might impose upon a couple of wild stags to lend you their speed for a time. Katra would be pleased to lend you her accumulation of realm lore, which may prove useful at some time in your journeys. Unfortunately, the power is shared only among Fourth Realmers, so I do not know why I waste your time speaking of it.”

He thought a moment and whispered something to a daughter who dashed off toward the house. While Sloat and Roland quickly dressed for their journey, Mageroy said, “You are not far from the beasts of the Boreal Wood. I would advise you go there.”

“No, with all due respect,” said Sloat. “We shall not bring destruction to any more innocent beings.”

“Bah! Fret no more about that,” scoffed Mageroy. “The beasts and the Droom have been bitter enemies for ages, so you are creating no new enmity. Furthermore, I shall send a feathered messenger to the beasts alerting them of your coming. The small Droom patrol that pursues you would not dare challenge a prepared army of beasts by any means. But there is another reason why I urge you to seek the animals. Nowhere does news travel as fast as in the animal kingdom. Perhaps they can tell you something of this Cold Flame conspiracy.”

As he gave them advice for escaping the Droom, the youngest daughter returned, bearing a small, leather pouch. Mageroy nodded in satisfaction as he took it from her. “For your margin of comfort against the Droom,” he said, “accept this powder. But be careful, Sir Sloat. It contains a special seaweed derivative. If you are upon the water and the knights close upon you, row to the edge of the shore, drop the contents in the water, and pull with all your might for land.”

Katra stepped forward, her streaming hair shining platinum in the starlight. “If I can think of any information that might be of use to you, I shall send word, somehow. Good bye and good luck,” she said, hugging them both tightly.

Roland caught a last glimpse of Katra’s face, still reflecting the radiance of the stars, before the blindfold fell over his eyes. Even in a crisis, Mageroy would not risk giving away her secret.