"These Barloak demons came through the portal and ravaged our land, making war on the Olrogs and Noracks. Their goal was to destroy enough life so that the Deep Shadow could enter our world and devour the rest. You see, as the Deep Shadow expands it grows stronger, and if it could take Gallamerth, the rest of our world would fall easily to it. The entire world would be webbed in a sort of phantom darkness.
"Somehow, the Deep Shadow managed to trick the Olrogs into joining with it, and in return it gave them powers over weapon forging and other strange abilities that they still possess to this day. In fact, many of the Grey Dwarves still see Tharnin as the savior of their race-though they also hate and fear the Shadow Realm."
"So only us Noracks were left," Vorden said.
"Yes," said Garrin. "And you can imagine how that went. We were drastically outnumbered and swiftly losing ground. But then the Birlotes arrived in great wooden ships on our shores. They had abandoned their own land across the sea-a small island in comparison to our continent-for it had fallen to earthquakes and volcanoes and was in danger of sinking into the sea. The Tree Dwellers sought to make a new home on Gallamerth, and quickly joined with the Noracks in their fight against the Deep Shadow. The Birlotes possessed great magic, and forged enchanted weapons that were a match for the Olrog blades and hammers and could bring great harm to the demon Barloaks. Yet still the Noracks and Birlotes were losing the war.
"But then the Birlotes discovered one of the lost Flamestones of the shattered Guardian-a crimson one of tremendous power that was of its Blood-resting in the heart of a dead volcano. Their king, the great Olzet Ka, wielded this mighty weapon against the Deep Shadow. And with it, the Birlotes were able to triumph. Yet some areas remained corrupted by the Barloaks' evil. The Bloodlands grew out of that evil and spawned Goblins into our world. To the north lies the Desolation of the Deep Shadow-which is the worst of all the Dark Lands.
"Silverland started out as wealthy and prosperous, but the Goblins threatened to turn it into a stench-filled wilderness. Bellis, the largest kingdom on Gallamerth, sent a legion of Knights to defend Silverland and beat back the Goblins. And that is where Dremlock and the Divine Knights enter my tale."
"Well, go on," said Vorden. "Tell the rest of it."
"Yes, tell us," said Timlin.
"We're not at the Temple yet," Lannon reminded him.
Garrin chuckled. "I would love to, since telling tales of the past is something I always enjoy. But you'll learn about the basic history of Dremlock Kingdom at the Temple, where Cordus Landsaver is expected to give a speech in just a short while."
"I'd rather hear it from you," said Timlin.
Garrin smiled. "Yet I don't want to take anything away from our Lord Knight, who is a magnificent speaker and certainly much better than I. Be patient, lads."
When they came to the intersection of the trails, Garrin led them down the middle road, and there they met many Knights and Squires in the woods, who all greeted Garrin warmly. As the forest gave way to the Main Courtyard, they found themselves walking on a stone pathway that led between rows of little red trees amidst which sang birds of varying sizes and colors. The Temple and the North Tower lay ahead in this huge clearing.
The Temple stood in the middle of the courtyard, while looming behind it was Cordus' tower-which was larger than the East and West Towers. The road split in two around the building as it led onward towards the keep. The Temple was made of stone, but had a copper roof weathered green. It was a round, two story building with a spectacular landscape surrounding it of little trees, flowers, and sparkling fountains. Atop the Temple was a bronze statue of Kuran Darkender. He was down on one knee, his face turned up towards the heavens.
The sweet scent of incense drifted from the Temple, mingling pleasantly with the summer day. Birds perched on the statue of Kuran Darkender and sang from the round windows in the Temple's walls. The beauty of the courtyard, mixed with the surreal scent of the incense, caused powerful feelings to arise within Lannon and the other Squires. They felt that they walked in a holy place-that beyond the crude fabric of their world existed the splendor of godly realms. The faith of the ones who had built this temple was strong, outlasting time and death.
Many of the new Squires were gathered outside the front entrance with their trainers. As the four approached, Vorden waved to some of the youths and hurried ahead to talk with them. Lannon and Timlin raced after Vorden.
Garrin and the other trainers gathered to talk amongst themselves. Vorden introduced Lannon to some of the lads, and one of them struck up a conversation. He was a Red Squire with bright blond hair, fair skin, and blue eyes, but his handsome face was corrupted by a sneer. "What happened at the Color Trials, Vorden?" he said. "I think you got cheated, my friend."
Vorden shrugged. "Blue isn't too bad, I guess. I can live with it-but I'd rather be Red like you, Jerret. I, too, think I deserve it."
"And what of this one?" Jerret said, motioning towards Lannon. "Most of the Squires feel he deserved Orange."
"It doesn't matter," said Vorden. "We should just be happy with what we have. The Knights have their ways. Who are we to question it?"
"I agree," said Jerret. "I don't care at all, because I know I got what I deserved. I'm just saying that some of the other Squires aren't happy about it."
"Then let them come and say it," said Vorden, looking around. None of the other Squires seemed to be paying attention. They were too busy talking, gesturing, and laughing-sixty-three youths who (with the exception of some of the Orange Squires amongst them) were having the greatest time of their lives.
"Derrick's the big complainer," said Jerret. "He passed two of the Trials, yet got stuck with Brown. He felt he deserved Blue at least."
Vorden sighed. "Look, Jerret. Blue is a special class. Not everyone can just be Blue. For whatever reason, it's a rare thing."
"Tell that to Derrick," said Jerret, as he moved off into the crowd.
Vorden went about socializing here and there, as the crowd split into groups, while Lannon and Timlin stood quietly beside each other. Lannon looked with envy upon Vorden. He seemed so confident in himself as he wandered about chatting with people, yet Lannon's stomach tightened at the thought of trying to initiate conversations with these strangers. He wanted to be like Vorden, he realized, more and more with each passing moment. Yet he had no idea where to begin.
Timlin seemed even worse off, standing with his gaze focused shyly on the ground and his hands in his tunic pockets. He was nervously humming a tune under his breath and shuffling his feet.
"I wonder when we can go in?" said Lannon, just for the sake of talking to
someone-even if that someone had to be little Timlin.
Timlin shook his head and shrugged, a silent answer that did nothing to assist them in combating their isolation.
After that, Lannon just kept quiet and waited anxiously, his thoughts beginning to wander to more significant things. Here before him was the Temple, and beneath it was an actual god-the Divine Essence. The Mind of the White Guardian lay somewhere below his feet, still alive and full of wisdom. It had spoken to Kuran Darkender and told him of his destiny, and Dremlock had been forged. And now Lannon was a Squire in service of that god and the kingdom that it ruled over-and someday, if all went well, he would be a Divine Knight. How swiftly things had changed. Less than a week before, he had been playing in the Quiet Spot of Knights Valley, swinging a stick at the trees and rocks and imagining he was a Knight slaying Goblins. Now here he was-the dream made reality. But he was still having trouble accepting that reality.