Joshua awoke enveloped in darkness and heat, it choked him and claustrophobia only went to tighten his throat further. He had become too accustomed to the expanse of the Guyren and the long lines of slaves, that this lack of sight terrified him. A trickle of sweat ran down his back constantly.
All he could think of were those burning eyes. The spectres words came back to him now: ‘you shall learn to hate the world.’ Maybe he would, but how could he if he was dead. Is this what death is like? he wondered to himself. This never-ending darkness?
He heard a stirring only a few feet away. It made long shuffling footsteps, coming towards him. Just before it reached him, it stopped. He could hear its slow, deep breaths like a gentle breeze passing a hilltop.
Snap! The being before him smashed two rocks together, letting out ardent sparks, the brightness of which he had never seen before. For an instant a grey wall of flesh flashed before his eyes.
Snap! Again, the sparks spat across the darkness, but this time the light did not disappear. One of the stones began to glow, growing quickly with luminescence. It went from a deep red to white in a matter of seconds.
Joshua realised the grey wall of flesh was, in fact, one of the gigantic Fremani. Its eye-less face peered down. If it had been capable of staring, then it would certainly have been now. Joshua noticed that a scar ran from the right of its forehead to its left cheek.
The beast began to purr, a sound that was more like the rumbling of boulders down a hillside. It was a soothing sound, all the same, and Joshua’s heartbeat slowed a little. ‘I did not mean to scare you, human,’ the Fremani’s voice boomed. The voice vibrated in Joshua’s chest, and he could feel the floor reverberating with the sound.
‘Gel…gelbanin,’ Joshua stammered. He had heard the Fremani utter such a word to each other when they passed on their long march to and from the Guyren.
‘Gelbanin,’ the Fremani returned. From its nostrils, the beast began to thrum. The sound shook Joshua’s ribcage.
With a hand the size of a boulder, the Fremani offered Joshua the glowing stone. The boy did not take it, his hands itched at the thought of the pain they would endure holding something burning so brightly. Sensing the boy’s tension, the Fremani purred lightly. ‘I bring you Jemji so that your human eyes may see. It is not the stone’s purpose to harm. Take it, you will see.’
Before the boy could refuse, the Fremani placed the stone in his hands. Joshua went to toss it like a hot potato, but it was quite cool. ‘Wow, how does it get so bright, and not get hot?’
The Fremani continued to thrum happily. ‘It is the Jemji’s purpose to produce light, not fire.’
‘Do you have a name?’ asked Joshua, still a little confused at how the Jemji was possible. ‘My name is Joshua Stone.’
The Fremani’s thrumming became louder in response. ‘Gelbanin yanahe, Joshua. My name is San.’
San offered Joshua a bowl of water. The boy gulped down large mouthfuls of the cool liquid until his stomach was bloated with it. He had barely had a drink since he had arrived in this strange world. When he was done, and he had wiped the water that had spilt down his chin with the cuff of the grey robes he had been dressed in, San turned to him.
‘The Fremani-danahin, the elders of my people, wish to speak with you. I must take you to the Dunaden, are you ready?’ San asked, holding out one of his gargantuan hands.
‘What is the Dunaden,’ Joshua asked as he took San’s aid to lift him from the ground.
‘It is the meeting place of my kind, deep in this city,’ San replied.
Joshua let out a painful cry, he had forgotten that he had hurt his leg in the fall. ‘I think it’s broken,’ he said to the Fremani.
‘I will carry you. The elders will see that you are healed.’ With that, the Fremani lifted Joshua off of the ground as though he was nothing more than a pebble and they passed through a huge archway.
San moved through the tunnels at an incredible pace, air brushed Joshua’s messy hair back. The sensation was soothing as it cooled his burning skin. They entered and exited a myriad of tunnels, and San never once halted to deliberate which tunnel he should choose. Even when they came upon a great hall filled with twenty separate tunnel entrances, he chose the correct one instantly.
As they turned left into a new tunnel, Joshua noted that they were now rising and curling to the right in a long arc. It was then that a foul stench passed over them, Joshua almost gagged at the smell. Joshua felt San’s trunk tense, and his pace quickened somewhat.
‘The Fremani-danahin are calling for you, I must make haste,’ said San, not even out of breath, regardless of the pace that he maintained. Around them, the walls became only a blur of grey.
Finally, they emerged from that final tunnel into an expansive catacomb that had clearly been carved from the very rock. It was lit at regular intervals by Jemji, similar to the one that Joshua held in his hand.
‘This is the Dunaden,’ said San. Pointing towards a large amphitheatre to their right he said: ‘and there we may observe the counsel of our people.’ To their left, was a large stone pyramid with deep steps thirty feet high. At intervals sat seven of the Fremani on thrones of immense stone.
‘Fremani-danahin, gelbanin. I bring you Joshua Stone,’ San announced thrumming into the air.
The elders thrummed in response and were met by their audience. The noise was almost deafening as it reverberated around the Dunaden. At the summit, the tallest and oldest of the Fremani rose from his throne and began to descend the steps of the pyramid before towering above Joshua.
‘Welcome,’ his voiced boomed into the stone at Joshua’s feet. ‘It is my pleasure to have you come before us, Joshua. My name is Borotar.’ He bowed and began to purr.
‘Thank you,’ Joshua returned. ‘If you don’t mind, I’d like to know how I got here. The last thing I remember was falling into the fire.’
‘It is Fate that brought you to us, my small friend,’ Borotar rumbled gently. ‘Your fall was broken by a stone ledge, stopping your soul from being consumed by the hunger of the Guyren. From the edge of despair, we brought you here, the last remaining home of the Fremani, Wrethenlinian. We believe that your arrival was not an accident. We, the Fremani-danahin, believe that you are the human child that we have been waiting for. It is our belief that you are the Boy of Seven Dreams.’
Joshua’s face contorted into puzzlement. How can this be true? he thought to himself. ‘Why me?’ he asked aloud. ‘I mean, I’m not that special.’
Borotar purred and put a gargantuan finger under the boy’s chin. ‘You may not know it yet, but in time you will save us all. It has been foretold that a human boy will have seven premonitions, and it shall be he who will emancipate the Fremani from the Deceiver’s slavery.’
Joshua let out a single, long breath that seemed to last a lifetime. ‘I can’t believe that. What if I’m the wrong kid?’
‘I believe that you will fulfil the prophecy of my people, for I am certain you are the Boy of Seven Dreams. If I am wrong, then I shall be made a fool. But at this time, we have hope when all we have known is pain.’
Joshua’s eyes passed over the other elders. ‘How am I supposed to save you?’
Borotar cocked his head slightly. ‘That we do not know, for it is you who will have the premonitions to guide us to our salvation.’
‘Where are we then? I thought that all of you were slaves like me?’ Joshua asked.
‘We are,’ Borotar returned. ‘The Deceivers forced us from our ancient home in the distant mountains. Our grief is too strong to mention its name, for we lost many of our kind on the long march to the realm of our enemies. Slaves they made of us indeed, forcing us to the point of death to serve the Guyren’s hunger for wood, flesh and life. But we are a cunning race, and in time we set out to build Wrethenlinian, the final home of the Fremani. We live deep under the earth, directly beneath the Guyren. For now our location is hidden to them, yet they search for us ceaselessly.
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‘Sadly,’ Borotar said, dropping his head a little. ‘Not all our race can be freed from their service to the Deceivers. But, in time, you will help to free them.’
Joshua’s eyes were heavy, he rubbed his face with his hands, making his eyes sore. The struggle of his enslavement to the Guyren’s hunger had drained him, and this extra weight of responsibility only worsened his condition.
‘Now is the time to rest, Joshua Stone,’ Borotar said with a warm tone. ‘I have appointed San as your guard. He is loyal. He will protect you even if he must lay down his life before you.
‘San,’ Borotar said with a thrum. ‘Take our guest to Huri, his leg should be healed at haste.’
The two Fremani exchanged a snort of a potent odour, which Joshua had to try not to gag at with great difficulty. San then turned away and passed back into the winding tunnels of Wrethenlinian.
The Fremani counsel was not over. Borotar returned to his throne and was met by several questions from the other Fremani-danahin. With a hint of frustration, Borotar howled into the Dunaden. All were silenced by the sound.
Borotar rose to his feet. ‘You have questions, I understand. We are in perilous times, and there is not much time remaining for us. The Deceivers’ patrols are ever increasing, and it may not be long before the location of Wrethenlinian is uncovered. Too long, already, we have lived beneath their feet.’ Borotar seemed to grow weary, but he would not let himself falter.
‘I believe with all the conviction of my soul, that this Joshua Stone is the human child from the prophecy. Who here will deny what may be our only salvation?’
One of the Fremani-danahin stood up, in respect Borotar sat down. ‘Borotar, we have no proof of this boy’s power, instead we should consider better, more apt options. Either we shall revolt from beneath our masters or be slaughtered from above.’
‘What else is left!’ Borotar roared. ‘Marched under the beating sun from our ancient home, and forced to endure the torture of two hundred years of slavery. We are trapped in all directions, confined to a city that is also our tomb, and too few of us there are to wage war upon the Deceivers and their armies. I ask you, Galan, what more is left?’
Galan sat down and grumbled to himself, nursing a withered arm.
‘So it is,’ said another of the Fremani-danahin, an old female who’s face showed signs of her age like the moss of a stone. ‘We shall put hope in this boy. Lest we crumble into the tide of time.’
The audience of Fremani thrummed into the air, its tone was full of hope, but tempered by uncertainty.
On his throne, Borotar rested his head on his fist and pondered what may come to pass.
...
The heat of Wrethenlinian made Joshua nauseous. The swaying of San’s arms as they traversed the many tunnels of the Fremani city only made the feeling worse. Between his slowly lolling eyes, tunnels and passages passed him by.
The Jemji slipped in his hands, bringing him back to consciousness as quickly as a slap to his cheek. Held so close to San’s chest he could hear the beating of his heart, like the distant grumble of thunder. Joshua wondered what colour the Fremani’s blood was. Is it green? he thought to himself.
‘Are you well?’ asked San.
‘Yes, I’m just really hot. It’s making me tired,’ Joshua returned wiping sweat from his brow.
‘Wrethenlinian is deep below the Guyren, yet the fire’s heat penetrates the earth for miles in all directions. Even here, we cannot escape its immense heat. It serves as a reminder of the oppression that still inflicts itself upon our kind.’ San’s footsteps rumbled about the tunnel as they rounded a bend.
‘Then why don’t you move away from here?’ Joshua asked.
San chose a new tunnel and delved into the darkness without hesitation. ‘There is no way out. We must cross a far expanse of land, deep within the Deceivers’ realm. We would be picked off one by one before we could ever build tunnels again.’
‘So, why can’t you just dig your way out, and not walk on the land?’ Joshua asked, perplexed.
‘The Great Abyss lies to the South,’ San replied pointing behind him. ‘It is a fathom-less drop. And we are surrounded by the Julá Dun Mountains. We cannot dig through them, for they are guarded by the Hyiem.’
‘Who are they?’ Joshua asked, turning slightly in San’s grasp.
‘They are ancient spirits that dwell in the Roots of the World, deep tunnels that none should enter.’ San stopped before an opening in the tunnel.
As they entered, the Jemji’s light illuminated a moderately sized chamber, huge pallets of stone butted against the walls around the edge of the room. It was an infirmary, with shelves carved into the stone to accommodate jars. Each one had runes etched into their surface in a jagged and almost artless language.
Hunched over a patient was Huri. She was shorter than many of the Fremani, and slighter of frame, perhaps through age she had been eroded down like an outcrop of stone, or through the arduous nature of her work she had worn herself away.
Her nostrils sniffed roughly, as though she struggled to breath in the air. ‘Ah,’ she said, her voice croaking. ‘Is that the human child I smell?’ She turned, surprising Joshua. Her face was a little sunken, and deep scars traced along her sagging eyelids rather than being smooth and slightly rounded as the rest of her kind.
‘Gelbanin, Huri. I bring you Joshua Stone. His leg has been broken.’ San rested Joshua down on one of the pallets. The boy winced slightly as his leg made contact with the stone beneath him.
‘Hmm!’ Huri grunted. ‘Then much work we have to do,’ she purred, it was an old sound that was broken and crackling.
Her large hands traced the shape of his leg soothingly, Joshua cried out in pain as her fingers passed over the bone jutting from his skin. Huri sniffed at it deeply. ‘Hmm!’ she grunted again. ‘An infection, hmm!’
From a shelf above him she brought down a jar and emptied its contents into her palm. Three stones rolled out. The first was small and resembled amber, the next was bigger and blue in colour, while the last would have needed Joshua to cup his hands to hold and was the colour of spent blood. ‘Hmm! Furison, indeed.’
‘What are they?’ asked Joshua a little frightened.
‘Hmm! All stones have a purpose, Joshua. Jemji gives you light so that you may see, while the Vardem stone takes the life of those who may touch it. Individually, these stones would give you the most vivid dreams when powdered and make even the greatest Fremani rabid, but together they heal broken bones and flesh. Every stone has a purpose, hmm?’
Joshua nodded. ‘Okay.’
‘Hmm!’
With a great show of dexterity, Huri rolled the stones around her palm, frequently warming them with her breath. Slowly she closed her palms and breathed deeply into them. There was a flash and smoke escaped from her fingers.
Quickly, she brought her grey face before him, touching his forehead with her’s. She thrummed loudly, sending the vibrations coursing through his body. The sound was not constant, it undulated and ebbed through him. He felt deeply soothed and the pain from his leg disappeared.
He fell unconscious as the sound of a gentle crunch smoothly melded with the sound of Huri’s thrumming. She righted his leg and bound the melded Furison to his leg.
‘Hmm!’ she said to San. ‘He must rest.’ She have him a powder in a small jar. ‘Mix this with water when he awakens to treat the infection. He will be fine, hmm?’
...
Joshua awoke bathed in light. It took a while for his eyes to focus, colours were mingled into one smudge. He blinked several times and rubbed sleep from his eyes.
When he could focus, he saw that the walls of his room were covered in a chiaroscuro of colours and shapes. Geometric shapes, arced over him, binding, and crossing each other. Different hues of colour frosted the shapes and radiated around the room. As he looked, he saw the shapes were carved into the stone with a fine deftness.
‘Wow,’ said Joshua looking about him. He looked down at his leg, the Furison was still strapped to his leg and he pulled the wrapping away to peak at his skin. New pink flesh covered the wound where his shin bone had penetrated through.
Experimentally he lifted himself off the stone pallet he had slept comfortably on, much to his surprise. His leg ached a little, but it took all his weight without difficulty.
Tossing the Furison and its wrappings aside he jumped around the room, happy to be in no pain. A large stone bowl of water stood in the corner of the room, and he dipped his hands into it and drank deeply.
‘I am glad you like my work,’ said San.
Joshua turned and saw San standing beside the door. ‘You did this?’ Joshua asked, pointing a finger that dripped with water.
‘Yes, there are three chambers like this one. They are the last examples of the rock-craft my race so dearly loved. Our ancient home was once like this through and through. It was a glorious city full of grandeur and wonder. But it is no more.’ Visibly, the Fremani’s shoulders slumped in sorrow.
‘I am sorry about your old home,’ said Joshua. ‘I bet it was amazing. I would have liked to have seen it.’
San thrummed happily. ‘I would have been glad to show it to you.’
‘But why did you make this, aren’t you blind?’ asked Joshua.
A deep rumble came from San and his shoulders jerked slightly. Joshua realised his new friend was laughing. ‘Not at all, I can see as well you can in the depths of the world. I can appreciate my own work as well as you. Though, I do not see as you do. Fremani are attuned to stone and sense its purpose and beauty. But we are blinded by sunlight, and only in the night may we move on the surface.’
From the doorway came a heavy-set Fremani, much bigger than San. He wore a steel helmet that accentuated the lines of his face, making it harsher and more ferocious. Immense muscles rippled as it shifted its weight. In its hands a trunk-like sword of the most amazing, polished steel rested. It spoke quietly with San before it left.
‘I have been summoned to the Dunaden by Borotar,’ said San. ‘I will return soon. You should continue to rest.’
‘San!’ he called back to the Fremani. ‘Thank you, it is good to know someone cares.’
The Fremani thrummed. ‘I have known the Guyren’s slavery. This scar,’ he pointed to the one that crossed his face, ‘was caused by a Manashe’s whip.’
On his own, Joshua looked about the chamber, it was as expansive and lavish as a presidential suite. Set onto thick tables were slabs of stone that had been fashioned into ornaments, sparkling with diamonds and rubies.
On the bed, he sat and stared in awe at the ceiling, losing himself in the ripples of colour and the enchantments of the shapes. It was only exhaustion that tugged him into sleep.
It was dreamless and healing, for he was comfortable here. The nightmares of the Guyren’s lines began to fade and he started to remember happiness.
