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Kindness.” Agral spat, his eyes burning with rage, “Look at me.” Krim did and his brother’s repulsiveness shocked him. Haggard, rotting, skin hung off his bony frame. His hair was falling out in clumps but still Krim pitied him, “You took all the power for yourself.” Agral continued, “We were meant to be equal, but you stole everything from me.” “And so you took my wife from me?” Krim became like a flame then, heart kindled with rage and his power overcame Agral. A healing power Krim sent and at once his brother changed. He grew tall and strong, with skin of perfect white scales and his pupils receded, showing brilliant golden eyes, “See what you could be brother.” Krim begged, “Call back your forces, relent from this venomous dream and be as a brother to me again.” The sight of what he might have been only enraged Agral more and as his dark power once again overcame Krim’s, he was more gruesome than ever. He drove forward and such rage was in his spirit, that no power of Krim could stop him and he drove his sword between his brother’s breast and the blade broke at the hilt. The skies wept for the passing of Krim, and his forces were swept away by the hordes of Agral. The banner of Gadrika returned on a swift breeze and lay upon the body of Krim. A light blinded Agral and as he pulled the cloak away, Krim was no more.
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He had heard rumours of Lucarnia and had seen her once as a child but in her womanhood, no story could convey her beauty. Her skin absorbed the red light of the moon and gave it back in greater beauty. Un-like Morelin, she had no red scales but instead lines like roots came down from her eyes and clung delicately all the way down her cheeks. She was slender like a flower in spring, but Morelin could feel the strength of the trees in her. A wind rose around Morelin and seemed to flutter around Lucarnia. He watched as a smile crept onto her lips. She sang again and a beautiful red flower bloomed. Her gaze fell suddenly towards him, “Come out fair lord and bask in the light. Umoria will soon come across the glade and their light will mix. Come and see the flowers, you are upsetting the trees.” Nervously Morelin stepped into the glade. He bowed slightly; his hand pressed against his forehead. She did the same, “Hail lord of the Ilma.” Her eyes went to the silver flower pin on his shoulder, “You are of the house of Mina?” Morelin stared into her piercing green eyes that seemed so strange from the golden irises he was used to, “I am Morelin Diactra.” He said in a shaking voice, “From the town of Minagrin.” “It is a pleasure.” She said as she turned back towards the flowers. “You must be Lucarnia Bitaran, daughter of the wood king.” She nodded and Morelin stepped closer to her and as he did, Umoria moved across the sky and gave its silver light to the clearing and it mingled, as she had said, with the light of Aradtoria. “Tell me wood daughter, how did you know I was here?” He asked. “You said it in the name you give me. We who live in the wood, hear the trees and many do not like the hearts of the Ilma, who chop them down for their machines of war.” She laughed like it was some joke, but Morelin hesitantly looked towards the trees, his power reaching out to silence the wind that blew through them. His eyes then went down to the flower, “This is livora.” He said, “That grows only on the lands where the kin of Drage have lived.”
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He walked again the cramped halls of his ship, down the elevators until he reached the main launch platform. Dropships and fighter crafts, all shaped like birds, sat dormant in the hall. Murka’s in their brown uniforms were lined up orderly, their one-handed rifles hanging at their side. These were weapons for the weak. He was already powerful for one of the Graul, but his new power made him a rival to the gods themselves. Urgarak held his head high as a ship sped into the hold, slender and ornate, a jewel of their craft but not equipped for battle. It landed with a dull thud and from it stepped a Graul like Urgarak, though his skin was covered in less red scales than the general’s. Lucast’s hooked from his jaw and levelled out either side of his face. His golden chest piece was ceremonial, but everything else was loose fitting as though he expected a battle. “You will leave now Urgarak.” Lucast ordered without any of the customary formalities, “Forget this venomous dream of you and your kin.” Urgarak’s arms raised in feigned surrender, “And where is Ilmgral’s fleet to stop me or do they stand by the judgement that Thomas Lita is a criminal, like these earthlings harbouring him.” The silence told him all that he needed to know, “I have an army Ambassador.” Lucast looked at the Murka’s, “Of slaves.” “They were freed from bondage when they joined our cause, slavery is a product of your profession, not mine.” Lucast lifted his arms and the metal armour around the Murka’s began to constrict, not enough to hurt them just to make them uncomfortable, “They still wear metal as our slaves did of old. Is that so they cannot argue against you Urgarak?” “They do not fear me.” Urgarak took a step forward, “They fear the power I possess.” His arm shot outwards and from his fingers black smoke charged. Lucast’s eyes widened in fear and a shield of fire burst out of his hands and met with the smoke which ignited, screaming as it did. When it subsided, Lucast breathed heavily, strained from that small encounter with the Darkness, “The use of that weapon is illegal.” “As you can see Ambassador.” Urgarak’s eyes began to leak the same dark smoke that had charged at Lucast, “My power has outgrown yours. The curse of Scaraden runs through my veins and soon Thomas Lita will succumb to the darkness that I weild.” Urgarak moved with frightening speed and darkness charged for Lucast whose only defence was to throw fire as a shield. With a duck he charged back onto his ships and fired up the engines. Urgarak felt the metal of the ship and tried to hold it but the thrusters ripped it from his control, “FOOL.” Urgarak barked as the craft went for the exit, “Let him go, if I cannot strip his mind from his body then he must live.”
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A quick turn took them into a wide passageway. It led off into darkness and Suda guessed that its path led to the frozen chasm and beyond that to the high pass. Its walls were roughly hewn and many of the scratches were fresh. A group of soldiers stared at them as they entered the passageway, and seeing in the clear light, the groups original armours, they charged, heedless that they faced Ilma. A flaming brand appeared in Suda’s hand, and such power was in it from his grief that the Graul could not withstand him. He moved like a snake, his brand felling Graul or throwing them to the company, where they were quickly broken. Suda stopped as the last Graul fell. The passage was filled with the smell of burned flesh. Shouts could be heard all around now. Choosing the eastward way, Suda led the company down the passage. Ordin charged past him as they came to a large hall, the sound of soldiers coming from within. He charged into it, heedless of any threat and there he was caught. Stone grabbed at his foot and as he lunged, a sickening crack echoed through the hall. As it incapacitated him, the stone continued to climb up his body. The others entered more slowly, and they saw there one of the Ilma, his hand outstretched, calling the stone up Ordin’s body. Suda charged at the Ilma and his hold on Ordin was broken. Ogra cracked the stone and dragged Ordin to safety while Suda launched fire into the waiting Ilma. Loxa and Dusan followed on from Suda’s barrage and a great wind lifted Sirgrin into the air. Loxa and Dusan launched fire, merging with Suda’s but a great slab of stone burst upwards to block it.
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I searched for the white fur of Grald and Selosa amidst the chaos. A shadowed loomed above me and my eyes turned skyward. One of the wind riders was stalking, his face showing that he was of the Ilma and in his hands he wielded fire. instinctively my water struck him, and he went limp in the air. He came down with a sickening crash and I lost him in the foray of brokin and Graul. My heart skipped several beats at that. Killing one of the Graul was fine, but one of the Ilma, one of the chosen people. That was something dark, works only Agral could sow. In that moment it seemed like more of the Ilma joined the battle and one pressed me hard. Fire, wielded like a whip, cracked in my direction and all I could do was bring water from the dead around me to block the blows. Steam surrounded the battlefield and I lost sight of my enemy for a second. A glint of bone was all I saw, and I screamed as it skimmed against my cheek. Rage filled me again and in a sudden wind the steam cleared. The Ilma was charging, shruda in his hand but I was quicker. Water crashed into his stomach, and I ripped the shruda from his grasp. I collapsed on top of him, screaming in my blood lust as I thrust again and again. By the time I moved the battle had passed me by. To my left stood the un-used ranks of Melkin and to my right, the battle raged on. Again, I heard the twang of arrow fire and the earth lifted to protect me from that volley. Thuds echoed into my barricade and as the earth fell, I stared at the next line of cavalry, charging swiftly towards me. Fire formed in my hands, ready for death that rode on galloping hooves. Suddenly I ducked as hooves came from either side. Cavalry in the orange of Carano swept passed and in another thunderous charge they collided with the armies of Melkin.
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Kat stood with Lucast, who had pulled more water from the ground and brought it to him. He had removed the chasm in an attempt to urge the warriors to the peak, hoping they would leave the others alone for now. He was ready for a fight but Kat didn’t think he would need to be. He had shown her how powerful she could be and as she formulated a plan, she just hoped he was right. She could feel the steadiness within her, the calm before the storm but knew this would be her storm. She lifted her left hand and clouds began to form above her head, from within them, there were sparks and way up high the rumble of thunder could be heard. The warriors sensing the dark power of their master, began their advance. Brilliant flashes lit up the landscape and all at once Kat’s hair stood on edge and with it Kat felt her feet leave the ground, her face was contorted with the strain of using such an enormous amount of her power. There was a brief red burst from the sun as Kat’s storm broke the cloud of smoke from the volcano, then the sky went dark so the only the light that could be seen was from the sparks around Kat’s body, it made unnatural shadows in the darkness. This was the pinnacle of Kat’s excellence, she could feel it, this was her moment, her crowning glory and at the moment she struck her first enemy, she was the most beautiful thing in the world.
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So Crio left in the darkness of night and again he marched through the middle lands of his youth. The ground groaned and from a great fissure a figure climbed. As tall as a mountain he stood, grey skinned, covered in coarse hair, with hands like stone. Orna, God of the earth, had come. “Crio.” He said in a deep voice, as hard as the earth, like an avalanche of falling stones down a mountain, “The daughter of my son is wrathful. Too powerful is she and her power cannot be contained by the seasons of Ilmgral. Beneath this land lies the defence against her powers but I need your help to raise them.” “If this works.” Crio said, “Will my family be safe and the people of Drage?” Orna nodded his great head, “They will be safe from all the destructions of the world and shall have gems uncounted and will love the stone of your creation.” Crio smiled grimly, “Then my lord, I give you my body.” A great roar went up and Crio felt the power of the earth beneath him and Orna fashioned a rope around the earth and together they pulled it. Great mountains rose from their toil and the middle lands were uprooted, green pastures becoming peaks that reached towards the heavens. In those mountains they trapped the storm of Camara and part of her power with it, so that the peaks of the mountain became instantly covered in snow. A great height those mountains reached but love for his family and that of the people of Drage ran through all that Crio designed and a great labyrinth he made within the mountains for those trapped to the south.
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The Ilma are mentioned in the Escape from Humanity but who are they? An Alien race, some good, some evil? Immortals who have great knowledge of the universe? What is their curse and why do they consider themselves the chosen people of the Universe? Who are the Graul? The servant race, now some of the most powerful beings in Besan Gretan? Briefly is the history and beliefs of the Ilma hinted at in the Knights of Earth saga, yet it is a rich history, full of tragedy, deceit, and the corruption of power. A story of the long defeat, how those chosen to be the wardens of the Gods, become vengeful Gods in their own right. The Sundering of the Two moons is the first part of the History of Ilmgral. In this book series I will bring you the long tapestry that saw the Ilma rise to absolute power and be cursed by it. This history is told in short stories of various styles, giving an in-depth outlook into the history of Ilmgral, like the Silmarillion never could for Middle earth.
The Sundering of the Two moons, focuses on the earliest years of Ilmgral and consists of four stories:
The Beginnings of the Universe are told in the book: The Holy Quadrant. Here the three plains of existence are explained, along with the coming of the Vassals and the immense powers given to the Ilma, with their place as custodians explained.
Notes as both squire and Lord- Follows Bruska Crud, one of the Ilma as he navigates becoming a squire to one of the greatest warriors of the time, Selosa Aquitex. He witnessed some of the Key events of the middle years of the Age of Vassals, including the battle of the crossroads and the burning of Fasurasuta.
The War of the Dividing Mountains- Newly come into his Lordship, Suda Drage, relation of the Vassal Drage Livella, must defend his home from the Kingdom of Scaraden. This story, though thousands of years before the events of the Knights of Earth Saga, ties in the most of all these tales, for it is the Pledge of Suda Drage that lingered as a dark shadow over the Ilma in all their many wars and would eventually bring war to Earth, until one from the Dragor would realm would do war upon Scaraden again.
The Sundering of the Two moons- This tells the story of Morelin, a high lord of the Ilma and Lucarnia, daughter of the wood king, an evergreen of the Krun-ilma, as their love and betrayal of their duties, eventually tears the celestial bodies of Ilmgral apart.
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“Do not speak of such things.” She said coldly. Morelin’s hand went to reach towards hers, but the branches moved, trapping his arm, “Please Lucarnia.” He begged, “You are not blind to this world. Your father pays these rebels, just like his grandfather did by the plea of the lord of Cradlin. He does it to pull people like me away from my home. Our kings are both liars, using us as pawns to wage secret wars with eachother.” “You lie.” She said desperately. “You know that I do not. Look into my eyes and see it.” She did and her white lips quivered. The branch released him, and he took her hand, “My heart is yours. Like Umoria and Aradtoria in the sky, we are destined to be together, and I will let nothing keep me from you.” She was silent and Morelin thought then that he had lost her, but she soon grasped his hand tightly, “I have seen things my love. My father’s secret meetings, his advisors taking trading trips to the frozen north or the apathy towards the tower of my mother’s birth.” “You know what I say is true.” Morelin’s eyes were firm, “We cannot let this escalate further.” She nodded, “My father talks of war in spring. The trees of the north shall move southward and shall surround Melkin.” “They will find fire.” He replied, “For Anglin is nervous and scared in his rule. He has long prepared for such an assault. Tell him of my imprisonment. We must get the kings together if we are to stop this war.” Her hand released his, “I cannot betray my father.” “If we do not, then our worlds will crumble.” “This will doom my people.” She said sadly, “Anglin will come with an army and will not stop until the woods burn.” “I will beg him not to.” Morelin assured her, “If Anglin gains my release, he will see it as a victory, as will king Nargir, for I shall be banished from his realm.” “If you are banished, then our time together ends.” He smiled, hearing the love he thought lost in her words. He leant forward and the branches opened so that he could kiss her trembling lips. She locked him in a firm embrace, letting go of the fear and the pain. When they broke apart, he stared into her eyes, “I did not say it in jest. We are like the moons of heaven, and we can never be separated. If we stop this war, the Gods will reward us, and they will grant my desire to never be parted from you again.” She kissed him again, “I will do this thing.” Her eyes seemed to grow sad, “But I see only bad things and our separation coming from this. The Gods will curse our treachery. Farewell my love, I will soon see you freed.” The tree limbs closed back in around him and Lucarnia vanished into the upper boughs. Morelin sat reinvigorated in his cell, waiting for his chance to win his freedom.
“I want to know why I was summoned?” Urgarak yelled as he stopped in the threshold of the door, his breath stolen at the vastness of the grand hall. He had been inside its white walls before but rarely enough that the hugeness of it still made him feel like a tiny speck in the universe. He looked towards the great domed roof, supported by two figures both standing far over fifty feet. He cast his eyes away from the marble, sculpted in the likeness of the first kings of Scaraden, who had formed the eternal empire. Urgarak marched forward, a ceremonial cape billowing with every step. A couple of paces behind two of his Murka generals followed, their arms scraping the red floor tiles. As he walked, Urgarak straightened the medal on his chest. The image of the flag of his ‘home’ planet filled him with confidence, even if the red moon of the warrist movement would outrage the members of the council. The chairs of the hall were empty along Urgarak’s march but statues of all the high kings stared down at him from marble eyeballs but Urgarak kept his own eyes on the stage in front of him. Eight of the nine seats were occupied and the figures were sat forward watching Urgarak as intently as the statues did. Urgarak stopped at their feet and bowed at the large marble figures that stood behind the council. The king eternals, those who had led Abgdon during times of war. He wished beyond anything that they were here now, they would understand his cause. Two were out there somewhere. Prisoners of those Ilmgralite fools. Only the third had died truly, one of only a small few of the Ilma who had died after the curse had come upon them. The council regarded Urgarak with their golden eyes and Urgarak met their stares confidently, but he could not keep his gaze from moving to the middle seat of the council that sat empty. It would seem King Crio would not entertain him. “Urgarak Mortrim.” One of the figures said. He was wearing robes of pure white that seemed to match perfectly with his fully white scaled skin. That made Urgarak snarl, the perfection of the Ilma. His skin was covered in red scales and many dotted his narrow face. “Gorin.” He replied scornfully. “Remember your place Graul.” Came another voice from a far chair. Urgarak’s eyes strayed towards him and black veins flared before he could control it. Urgarak took a deep breath, he had to remember what he was. The Ilma were the chosen people after all, his power was just a gift. Urgarak turned his frustration back into the cruel determination for his cause and so turned his eyes back to Gorin, “My place.” He murmured, “Is to hunt down those who hold the essence of our people captive. To bring war to a race who has aided the Ilmgralite’s in their tyrannical hold on the universe.” Gorin stood swiftly, the air in the hall seemed to surround Urgarak and his eyes flicked to the floor in fear, “We called you back one season ago.” The head of the council said without showing any of the anger Urgarak was sure he felt, “Yet you returned to Uralese, that was a mistake.” Urgarak’s golden eyes flashed black for a second and he spoke grimly, “Uralese is still a troublesome world, our might should not be forgotten there long. I returned our fleet and came with the only ship I could spare.” An old lord stood. He looked like he was close to his rebirthing, but he still spoke with the musical power of the Ilma, “It is impressive for one of the Graul to rise so high within our ranks.” Urgarak nodded but it was an insult and he knew it, “You were sent to Earth to find evidence of Cirtroug’s imprisonment, not to release him.” He took a deep laboured breath, “We have all seen the signs. The Gods are moving, they are planning their final strike to crush the Ilma. Crio will avoid war at all costs.” “Crio is a coward.” Urgarak said before he could stop himself. “HOLD YOUR TONGUE.” Gorin yelled and all the air was sucked from Urgarak’s lungs and he stood, gasping in the vacuum that Gorin had created. Urgarak could feel the pressure swelling his eyes and his chest tightening. His legs wanted to fall but it seemed Gorin was holding him up as well. Slowly with a white smile, the Ilma released him. The first breath after the denial was like syrup. “What do you know of Uralese?” Urgarak asked through his deep breaths, “It must seem a troublesome place, the once slave world of Ilmgral. What petty trifles did they ask for it? You should see it high council, Graul, Murka and Livet children starve in the streets while wars rage across its continents. It is a forgotten world.” The old Lord spoke again, “All Uralese is worth is the Virdact that we mine from it, the Livet’s could barely write before we found them and now they live in luxury.” “Starvation is not Luxury.” Urgarak said grimly, “Uralese needs a war, only in war do our people find sufficient work, only then DO YOU NOT LEAVE US TO ROT.” “YOU WERE SENT TO STUDY EARTH, NOT TO RELEASE THAT MANIAC CIRTROUG UPON THE HUMANS.” Gorin yelled and thunder crackled in the sky above Scaraden. Urgarak took a step back, “I did release him.” He muttered, “On Uralese the truth of the Gods was shown to me, the true legacy of the Ilma. I harness it now and it showed me how we can defeat both the Gods and the Ilmgralites. Earth is the key, the one who defeated Cirtroug was of Ilmgral, reskinned among the humans with all their divine darkness.” He saw the dark look in the councils eyes and decided to press further, “Not only did the Ilmgralites create those abominations on Earth, not only did they imprison Abgdon’s great heroes on that world, but they send their people to live among them, to breed them into the army Ilmgral needs to rule this universe. I will not stand by and let that happen. You are the Ilma, the chosen people, tasked with keeping the Gods from tearing our universe apart. Well the Gods work through Ilmgral. I can see it in the stars, and they will use Earth to finally crush us.” Gorin seemed tired, his eyes fell pityingly onto Urgarak. A sign of mortality, he thought. Urgarak would not have much longer in the universe and his haste for war was due to that fact. The council of the Ilma of Scaraden had none of those issues. Gorin had served since the first days of Abgdon. His father, who gave his energy to terraform Abgdon, had been born just after the curse had been bestowed to the Ilma. Gorin had patience and he would not let Urgarak lead Crio into a war where only the destruction of the universe would follow. Gorin returned to his seat, “Urgarak.” He paused, “You are hereby suspended from command. You will return to Uralese and surrender your fleet to Flight Marshal Cambane.” Urgarak smiled, black smoke coursed through his veins, darkening his mind. He knew it would come to this. If the council would do nothing, it was best that he was a part of no nation to fight the war his way until both Abgdon and Ilmgral had no choice but to intervene, “As you wish my Lords.” He bowed low and looked at the statues of the kings, “May the eternal church never falter and the Gods tremble at the might.” The council elders nodded and watched as Urgarak and his two servants left the hall in disgrace. Gorin turned to the Lord beside him who whispered in Gorin’s ear, “We should blast him out of the sky.” “No.” Gorin shook his head, “Urgarak is a fool, reckless and narrowminded, blind to anything else but his goal and that will one day see him to his death but he is beloved on Uralese. The empire of the Ilma have split once already and we do not need the resource planets rising up under his dark dream.” Gorin then signalled for one of the guards, who had sat silently behind, to step forward. The Ilma who stood beside Gorin was young in terms of the Ilma, he had never lost the physical form he held but he was powerful and full of youthful aggression, “You will go with Urgarak and make sure he follows our command. It would be good for the people of Uralese to see one of the Guardians of Eternity.” “As you wish my Lord.” The man said and he marched quickly to follow Urgarak. “War is upon us.” The old Lord continued, “Crio will not be able to delay it. We should recall our fleet. If the foretold war is not against Ilmgral then it will be against the Gods themselves.” Gorin pointed to the hall before them, “Scaraden stands forever. We built this hall so not even Livella herself could stand within it. If it is to be war, then the darkness shall lead us to victory and neither Ilmgral nor the Gods will stop us. The time is not yet ripe, however. We are too few after the last war. Crio is desperate to learn where our kin are imprisoned.” “What of earth?” A young lord, only risen after Crio had ascended to be king, spoke then, “Urgarak is right. One of the Graul has reskinned among them, that is rare enough but then to live as a human. One like that, allied with the half breeds could bring a new power to the universe that had never been foretold by Livella.” Gorin seemed un-moved, “Ambassador Lucast assured us he has no memory of his past.” He then smiled cruelly, “Though the thought intrigues me, maybe in him the experiments of old will work. A child of Ilmgral with all of our gifts mixed with the darkness and natural brilliance of Humanity, a sight that might even make the Gods tremble.”
Knights of Earth Publications 