Calan - The Immortality Paradox

Chapter Six: The God's Emissary

Date: 209, OA19,654

Location: Camelot, New Avalon, Kray System

The market concourse was conspicuously uninhabited as the morning sun dressed the surrounding mountaintops in a glowing red veil. At the summit of several of the peaks, Creditmaster Trystan Oakes recognised the distinct outlines of the Citadel outposts, like rectangular birds perched on treetops. They were an everlasting comfort and protection from an unspoken evil that lurked beyond the boundaries of the Royal Citadel. Oakes was not a fearful man, but the thought of the unidentified creatures that wandered in the wilderness breaking through the barriers to the Avalonian civilisation was an unsettling one. Despite the Citadel's immense stature in the concave valley in which the Human colony had settled, if the creatures had any sense of strategic blockading, the settlement would have fallen millennia ago. Contrary to local rumour, the Citadel was an impenetrable fortress in the eyes of the primitive outsiders.

For his first crucial task of the day, the Creditmaster had worn his best ministerial outfit - an iron-coloured frock that reached below his knees, bound tightly around his waist by a brown, leather belt with three separate brooches: gold, white and azure. Each one represented a different branch of authority in the Queen's Legislature. Gold indicated Oakes' incumbent role as Creditmaster of the Citadel; responsible for trade and finance. The white brooch was a royal seal of approval given personally by Queen Lucretia to those who are deemed worthy of positions of authority in the Legislature. Finally, the blue was proof of Oakes' affiliation with the authoritative Council who presided over the general Citadel legislation. The frock was in such disproportion to his body, that it looked to be swaddling a skeleton. On his feet, the Creditmaster wore casual sandals, which were more appropriate for long-distance walking than his regular shoes. Oakes also appreciated the aerating properties of the sandals rather than the suffocating nature of the leather material he normally wore.

Regarding the objective of his task this morning, Oakes had little information other than he was meeting a foreign individual for diplomatic reasons. His initial reaction had been to defer the matter to Speechmaster Fletcher, but according to a messenger from the Royal court, the Queen had requested Oakes personally handle the situation. There was a certain pride in being volunteered to undergo a duty usually given to someone else, such that Oakes wanted to make sure he completed his engagement properly and with a reverence Her Royal Highness would find befitting. Furthermore, he had never once met face-to-face with a foreigner before - someone who had traversed the darkness beyond the Avalonian sky. A tingle of excitement flared in his gut.

The individual in question had been given a modest apartment in the Western District, overlooking the Caradoc Viaduct, adjacent to the public water gardens and ten-metre statue of King Edmundas. It was customary to offer special visitors luxury accommodation for the sake of good hospitality. However, Oakes was ordinarily wary of inviting random guests into their Citadel regardless of origin or intention. Although it was not common knowledge amongst the general subjects of New Avalon, the settlement was not altogether modernised in comparison to foreign civilisations, and the more exotic travellers they allowed inside their walls, the more vulnerable they became. Better to remain anonymous than inform otherworldly chapters of their unsophisticated actuality.

Passing under the shadow of the Temple of the Round Table, with its stone caricatures of long-deceased knights, the Creditmaster emerged into the hexagonal water gardens with its central fountain and six offspring streams. The glistening white water gushed from the mouth of a marble stallion frozen on its hindquarters. According to traditional legend, the stallion - or mare - was a sacred beast ridden by knights and soldiers into battle. Oakes could not see any fathomable way or reason for doing such a thing, but he didn't deny the beasts looked majestic, even entrenched in marble. He traipsed past the statue and through a gap in row of tall, pink trumpet trees - high enough to caress the roofs of the nearby residential suites. Oakes approached the foot of the steep stone steps leading to the giant mahogany entrance doors. A solitary guard stood before it in full regalia, an idle hand clutching the hilt of his sheathed sword. He tried stifling a yawn as the Creditmaster climbed the steps.