Sargon Lugal

[Sargon]

“Hurry up Shad we are going to be late!”

“Hardly, Sargon,” Shad smirked as he quickened to catch up to his close friend, “We have been poking around and watching these Warders for days now and I doubt they are finished with their day just yet, the sun isn’t that far gone.”

Sargon looked back over his shoulder at Shad. “Well, I don’t want to miss anymore than my chores made me.”

The two hurried heading north and west of the Lugal family farmstead to the Ruins. The Lugal’s had been at Fal Dara as far back as anyone could began to recall and even one of the Aes Sedai examining the Ruins had said she had seen record of Lugals being in the area dating back to before Artur Hawkwing. Yes, while they never seemed to be people of great means, Sargon was proud of his distant family heritage and how they had long guarded the Blight border.

“Besides,” Sargon added, “Father needs me back before nightfall to help feed the pigs and I want time to look around too. Evelyn Sedai said I could as long as I stayed out of the workers way and avoided the more dangerous places.”

Sargon’s father, Nebu had served his time in the Shienaran army and was now considered a reserve armsman; he now spent his time farming just outside of the city. This current generation of Lugals supplied Fal Dara with the best apples, honey, smoked bacon, and ham in the Borderlands, well, as far as Sargon was considered.

“I wonder why the Aes Sedai even let you anywhere flaming near the Ruins. You’re bound to fall down some hole and be left for a Trolloc raid’s cook pot, you clumsy goat.”

“I’m not clum….,” Sargon started to say but his foot hit a rock and only the awkward flailing of his arms kept him from pitching forward on his face. Shad erupted into laughter as he watched from behind. “It is only because you ‘stumbled’ upon that old Trolloc badge that they even let you within a league of the place.” Shad remarked as Sargon regained his balance and continued jogging.

“That wasn’t just any clan badge, Shad, it….”

“It belonged to a clan that was wiped out during the Trolloc Wars,” Shad interrupted, trying to mimic Sargon’s voice, “and it was made with the One Power,” he finished. “Everyone in the whole flaming city and all the goat kissing farms surrounding it has heard you brag about your find. It’s your fault these Brown Sisters are here for weeks on end each summer poking around what used to be our ‘secret base’.”

“But that’s just it, Shad, the Ruins are not just a place where we can go to fight imaginary Shadowspawn. They are all that is left of Mafal Dadaranell and now that their true nature is known they deserve to be studied.”

“You are sounding more and more like one of those Light-cursed, book-headed Browns,” Shad chided.

“Quite, Shad! Watch your tongue and show some respect, someone might hear you.”

They had arrived and were starting up the slight incline that lead to the main part of the Ruins. Only a few large stones could be seen atop what might be considered a large hill just outside and to the west of Fal Dara, but as the boys reached the top it was clear to them, as to any who now went on top, that something much more was there. The large stones visible from Fal Dara and the Lugal’s farmsead were parts of once grand statues and ancient walls now in rubble. The wonderful Ogier build city of Mafal Dadaranell had stood right here, the capital of Aramaelle, but both the city and the nation were destroyed during the Trolloc Wars. The city-Fortress of Fal Dara had arose from their ashes. The Ruins, as the Fal Darians called them, were the only accessible remains of Mafal Dadaranell as the now existing fortress-city and farms covered whatever else may remain under the ground.

From the vantage point of this hill Sargon looked back to his family farm. The orchards where in full bloom and each tree looked like it was covered in snow instead of leaves. He could see the pigs too, as pink little dots in their pens. To the east Sargon could make out the guards atop the high walls of Fal Dara and to the north were the ever-looming hills of the Blight. But all these things were constants for Sargon, what drew his attention where the many people in and around the Ruins.

People could be seen working busily, some digging, others carrying baskets of earth, while others still sat in field chairs at camp tables set up under pavilions, just to the north of the Ruins. The White Tower, upon learning that remains of Mafal Dadaranell were in fact accessible, had sent Sisters and workers to excavate the Ruins. This was their fourth summer coming to investigate. Most of the Sisters that came to the expedition were Browns who were interested in history and the Trolloc Wars. Yet, rumors had spread this season that they had dug deep enough to reach earlier material and even relics from the Breaking and the Age of Legends had turned up. It was these areas that Sargon had been warned from going into and which the Aes Sedai seemed most excited about this year.

“There they are!” Shad said excitedly pointing to a flat place next to the Pavilions. There on that flat land were the Warders who had come with their Aes Sedai. Here the Warders would practice and spar while a few of the Shienaran soldiers from Fal Dara joined in. A small group of boys from Fal Dara could be seen near the older men, some of these held practice swords themselves. Sargon and Shad made their way in that direction. It seemed that most of the Sisters at the Ruins had at least one Warder and many more than one. Perhaps this was because of the proximity of the Blight and the possibility of raids but Sargon wasn’t sure and he wasn’t about to bother a Sister about his simple observation.


He really found the history of the Ruins fascinating, he loved to explore their caves, tunnels, cracks, and climbs but he seemed to be the only one his age who did. Oh sure a few of the boys like Shad, had used the Ruins as a ‘base’ and had explored them thoroughly. But now that they would soon see their 14th name day thoughts of pretend battles and imagined bases seemed to wane. Each of the boys that came to watch and learn from the Warders and soldiers would soon each be given their own real sword and be considered a man in the Borderlands. This too was important to Sargon, he longed to make his father and mother proud and to continue their long and honorable tradition of guarding the Blight, but something about the Ruins stirred an inner curiosity that he couldn’t quit satisfy.

As the spring turned into summer, Sargon would go visit the Warders and the Ruins, as his time and his father would permit. He had watched in fascination, along with the other boys, as the Warders moved with their deadly fluid grace from form to form. Sargon had been impressed with how some of the Warders wore little or no armor and yet could hold their own against multiple opponents. He was so used to seeing men like his father in the traditional heavily armed and armored garb of the standard Shienaran soldier or lancer. Sargon had taken his turns with the practice sword; these Fal Darian youth were fortunate to supplement their instruction with the insight of these willing Warders. Yet, each time when his turn was done, Sargon had left the group and had gone about exploring the Ruins.

The Excavations were always uncovering new structures and remains and there was always something new to see, but he was forced to look at these from a distance so as not to disturb the workers or the Aes Sedai. He took pride in finding the Power wrought trolloc clan badge back before the White Tower had taken interest here. Those were only made during the War of the Shadow and the Trolloc Wars and were reserved for the most fearsome trollocs in a particular fist, or so the Sisters had told him. Now they let him explore a bit and look at the found relics and ask questions.


Summer eventually came to a close. The White Tower expedition at the Ruins was done for this year and only two Brown Sisters, Evelyn Sedai and Shelina Sedi, with their four warders between them, were left behind in Fal Dara to wrap things up and to make sure guards were posted at the Ruins until next year. In their final week the workers had uncovered a hidden chamber deep under ground. Its roof had mostly collapsed leavening the chamber full of dirt and debris and whatever it had once been would have to wait identification until next year. But there were crawl spaces and small tunnels between collapsed slabs of stone that teased Sargon to go exploring within them.

Just the other day Sargon had been there as the workers had discovered the chamber and had been caught up in the excitement of it. Yet, while Evelyn Sedai had allowed him to get a closer look, he was not allowed to enter the chamber. In fact none of the workers were allowed inside until it was certain that it was structurally sound and would not further collapse on anyone. As the days continued and the expeditions season came to a close the Sisters decided to explore the camber more fully next year. They also were organizing and working out payment for an outfit from Fal Dara to guard the Ruins until then.


“Sargon?”

“Yes, Father?” Sargon came from behind the shed where he had been chopping wood, “What is it?”

“I need you to help your sister with the jars of honey when you are done with the wood. This will be the last big haul before the frosts come. I’ll be taking them into Fal Dara later in the week but I have been called on duty until then”

“Duty? Is there word from the Blight or the Gap?”

“Nothing for certain son, but there are reports of moment north of the Fal Dara among the hills. Because of this, I ask you to stay clear of the Ruins until we are sure things are quiet and until the guards have been set there.”

“Yes, Father.”

“You will be a man soon, Sargon, and after that you will start to accompany me on my reserve duties.” Nebu smiled proudly. “But until then I need you to help here with the short fall harvest and preparing the farm for winter.”

As his father left for the fortress Sargon dreamed of the moment, only a few weeks away, when he would be given his sword. He hurried and finished copping the wood and then found his younger sister, Erish, who was placing the wax sealed honey pots into straw stuffed crates. While they worked, talk of the Ruins and the new chamber was quick to come up.

“Well you can’t go now that the Aes Sedai are gone, so don't get any clumsy wool-headed ideas.” Even at her young age Erish tired to sound like she was his senior. “And with father gone for this week you need to do twice the work.”

Sargon rolled his eyes, he had always done his fair share of the work around the farmstead, Erish just wanted to be bossy. “Don’t worry Erish, I know I need to help here. Besides, when you brake half of these pots who is going to clean up your mess?” Sargon smiled. Erish stuck her tongue out at her older brother and the two giggled and kept working.

That night Sargon couldn’t sleep. With the full moon streaming in his window he kept thinking of the camber in the Ruins. What if he could find something down there like the Power wrought trolloc badge he found earlier. Maybe something even from the Age of Legends! Evelyn and Shelina Sedi were still in Fal Dara and they would be pleased with his discovery and perhaps they would extend the expedition a few more weeks this year. Then the boys could get more Warder training AND the camber could be properly excavated without having to painstakingly wait a whole year for it. If he went in the Ruins at night he could be back before morning and would still be able to get all of his work done tomorrow.

The more he thought about it the more it made sense and, before he knew it, Sargon was sneaking out of the house with an unlit torch and was saddling Midnight, the families black mare. As he left the farmstead Sargon didn’t notice Erish watching him from her upper window.

He made it to the Ruins in no time and left Midnight tied to a post at the base of the hill. Sargon made sure to light his torch once he had reached the top and was hidden behind some of the rubble. He carefully mad his way through the exposed ruins down, down, down the center of the hill, until he reached the entrance of the new chamber.

In the dark of night and down in the depths of the Ruins his torch seemed to cast more shadow than light. He could only see in the area just around him and beyond his flickering sphere there was only deeper darkness. Just inside the entrance Sargon had to duck. The chamber was full of rubble, collapse, and dirt. Sargon looked for a way to go back further into the room but no clear way was visible. To the left there was a small triangular hole near the ground where two large slabs of stone were leaning against one another. As Sargon stuck his torch in the hole the light of his torch continued on into shadow. With excitement he bent down, there was only enough space to crawl, and he entered the makeshift passage.

Disappointingly, the passage ended just beyond what the torch first revealed. At the end Sargon found only a dirt wall in front of him that the two stone slabs continued into. Nothing here. Sigh. As he tried to turn around without burning himself on the torch, Sargon noticed something in the dirt. Only a faint glint but it looked like gold! His excitement found anew, Sargon, hurriedly dug with his one free hand. The light of the torch showed a plain gold ring set with a large moonstone, which seemed to glow with its own inner light, but it might just have been the flickering torch light.


Now he could keep the dig and the training going once he showed this to the Aes Sedai, if only for a few more weeks this year. He would be praised by the other boys and again favored by the Aes Sedai when he showed them this ring. After making sure there was nothing else hidden in the dirt in the tunnel, Sargon crawled back to the entrance of the chamber. What was that? Sargon held still listening Yes, there it was again. The Fal Dara alarm bells! They were faint but there was no mistaking that sound even down here. There was a raid on the city. Generations upon generations had heard those bells and sought safety in the fortress. Sargon knew that his mother and sister would head for the city and his aunt’s house; the Lugal farmstead was very close to the south west corner of Fal Dara. But what would they do when they couldn’t find him? Suddenly all his dreams of glory for finding his discovery vanished. He had been a fool for sneaking off here alone at night and now he didn’t know if he could make it back to Fal Dara.

As Sargon climed out of the Ruins back to the top of the hill he extinguished his torch in the dirt. Yes, with the torch out he was certain the moonstone was giving off a faint light in the darkness. From atop the hill he could see that the signal fires on the towers in the hills and atop the wall towers of Fal Dara were all lit and the bells could be heard clearly. In the moonlight he could just make out a dark mass heading across the vast open space between the fortress and the hills to the north. It looked to be about 200-300 trollocs, a large raid. There would be several Eyeless among them. He should be with Mother and Erish, they would worry over his absence but would head for Fal Dara anyway, hoping to find him waiting at aunt Rori’s where his family always waited out the raids. The rear entrance would stay open as long as possible to let all the surrounding farmstead families and workers to seek refuge within Fal Dara. If he hurried and galloped the entire way he could cover the mile or so to that gate before the raid reached the city.

Quickly stuffing ring into his pocket he untied Midnight and sped for the southern gate of Fal Dara. The famed Shienaran Lancers would be pouring out of the city to mow down as many of the trollocs as possible in an attempt to slow them down. He would make it, he was sure. The farms were always the targets of these raids, a force would busy the Shienaran soldiers while another would try and plunder the livestock and burn the farms. Sargon was not sure how the farms would fair with such a large raid.

“Thank the Light!” his mother said with a tremble in her voice as Rori let Sargon into her home. Erish was seated at the table next to mother. Mari stood and threw her arms around her son and held him tight for a moment. Then she firmly stepped back, and glared at Sargon through moistened eyes. “Burn you boy! What were you thinking?” Sargon slumped he had no answer, he knew what he had done was foolish. Forgetting all about the ring, Sargon shamefully waited out the raid and the inevitable meeting with his father. However, Nebu Lugal never came home…

THREE YEARS LATER

As Sargon approached Tar Valon on the Darien Bridge, he glanced at the sword on his hip, the one his uncle gave him on his fourteenth name day. He sighed, the shame and heartache of that fateful night was still strong with him, it distracted him at that moment from the breathtaking view of the island city before him.

The raid that night had been a large one indeed. The Shienaran forces were able to eventually rout the Shadowspawn but not before the trollocs reached some of the farms. The Lugal farmstead was among those that were near a complete lost, the livestock were all taken or killed, the house, barn, pens, and silos burned or trampled; only the orchards survived more or less in tacked, those and the beehives. Had it been only the farm that was lost that wouldn’t have been so hard. Upon learning that Sargon had not arrived in Fal Dara with the rest of his family that night, and that Erish had seen him heading for the Ruins, Nebu had worried for his son but performed his duty as a reserve soldier. Word never reached him once Sargon had arrive in the city. So, when word came that the fleeing trollocs had taken refuge in the Ruins, Nebu volunteered to go with the first battalion that was sent to clear them out. He made mention to his captain that Sargon might be there and he prayed to the Light that the boy was hiding deep within the tunnels and rubble or had fled elsewhere to safety, but the chance that Sargon might be trapped there led Nebu to go. He died in the fight that followed despite the Healing abilities of the accompanying Aes Sedai.

While all Borderlanders see death as a part of life, and every soldier and soldier’s family knows that the ‘last embrace of the Mother ‘ could come at anytime, Sargon blamed himself for the death of his father.

With the loss of the farmstead Sargon, his mother, and sister went to live with his aunt and uncle in the city. There they were cared for and would see to the orchards and honey from the city. But Sargon couldn’t stand to look at his mother, or hear her crying at night. On the day that he was given his sword by his uncle, and was considered a man in the Borderlands, he was also free to choose his path. Word of his midnight disappearance and the subsequent death of his father had eventually got out and Sargon saw the looks of distain from the Fal Dara soldiers. His mother tried to tell him that no one blamed him for Father’s death, but Sargon new the truth. Besides, even if no one blamed him, Sargon blamed himself. No, he couldn’t stay here, not with this shame on his father’s name and memory. So Sargon had left. He left Fal Dara, and even the Borderlands altogether. Sargon decided not to tell anyone of his discovery at the Ruins. It didn’t feel right with the loss of his father and the farmstead, to then ‘show off’ the relic ring, the finding of which inadvertently lead to his father’s death. In a way, Sargon saw the ring as the symbol of his shame and rather than selling it or getting rid of it, he kept it as a reminder of his foolish boyhood mistake.

Over the past three years he had spent time here and there as a hired hand not knowing where he was going or what he was doing. His mind eventually returned to the time spent with the Warders at the Ruins. Hoping to lose himself in training and perhaps find some way to regain some honor, Sargon was now seeking out to be a Warder Student.

[Sahrine]

Very nice story, Sargon! There's a lot of you in it. The exploring the ruins parts were my favorites hehe.