The Centre Vale
Book 1 Synopsis
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Startled to find himself in a most obscure place, Hanor jumps when a voice behind shoots through the peaceful setting with its picture blue sky and large ring of emerald trees. Guarded at first, the horrors of the bridge still vacant from his mind, the young heir can only but stare at the hairless figure with piercing dark eyes staring back at him. Seriously lacking a functioning memory, his pain temporarily suspended, Hanor is welcomed by the mysterious Yarmi Folk after initial suspicions. Seemingly kind on the outside, the dullness of Hanor’s mind however begins to miraculously lighten, lifting him to the point of actually sensing both their thoughts and feelings, not all of which are favourable. Encouraged to read and explore The Yarmorian Realm, a place existing on a parallel level to Hanor’s world, he discovers The Yarmi Folk’s immaculate intelligence is far superior to his own. Still lacking a memory, yearnings to return to his own land emerge through the tranquil grassy setting, not quite fitting into this strange new place.
Becoming increasingly sensitive to the surroundings, his consciousness expanding at a remarkable rate, The Yarmi Folk realise the danger that poses. Mentally attuned to each other, sharing in a oneness of consciousness barely dreamed of by lesser people, and one that Hanor was quickly developing too, their ultimate plans of expansion are left potentially open for his discovery. Unsure if he will embrace the methods by which that will be attained, if he stays, they fear to what depths he will reach in knowledge and power. Seemingly naïve in so many ways, but the fact he had entered their realm at all was still enough to warrant great caution.
Desiring to investigate the quietly capable young man, even with the risk, only when a searching Brandor arrives do they realise what they might be giving up. Conflicting desires however do justify the need to let him go, even though they have serious reservations about him leaving with The Dai-Laman. Aware of Brandor’s admirable attempts to save The Freelands, but The Yarmi Folk’s grievance with him is not to do with now but the deep past; a despicable past that the Dai-Laman seems to have conveniently forgotten about. Revealing nothing to Brandor of their plans, wanting to catch the other Members of The Hisian-Set too, sensibly they refrain from doing anything.
Troubled when leaving that realm with Hanor, still shocked at the cold reaction, Brandor does not want to accept just how much The Yarmi Folk had changed from old. Visiting that once loving race periodically in the past, this new generation was certainly far more hostile and unwelcoming. Refusing to accept just how bad it was, unbeknown to him, that denial returns to haunt him in the future. Leaving the issue, he is just glad to have found Hanor. With the future still very much clouded in mystery, only another vision will help clear the fog of uncertainty.
Reuniting with Hanor, Kifter and Hallen are most surprised to find their young charge cannot remember what happened at the bridge with the loss of his brother. Bane has even more trouble, exploding in disbelief at not being blamed for allowing them to come in the first place. Storming off in protest, his heart cleaving again, Hanor’s condition is one scenario not prepared for.
Surviving the furore, everyone eventually settles enough to listen to Brandor’s guidance the next day, a timely vision coming to The Dai-Laman’s rescue. Unsure of its full implications, the new developments stretch even Brandor’s expanded mind into new territories of thinking. A Wall of Power the vision promises, but one created by Mind rather than the casting of energies. Already sharing the details with the city’s Masters of The Arts, who are of equal standing to Brandor, there is not much to go on initially, just enough to get things started. Even so, The Dai-Laman knows it will be added to when the time is right, a degree of faith required if it is to be completed.
Explaining to the recently formed group that his path takes him away from them, detailing that they must venture north to a valley where the ancient Tomb of Tarkon lies, Tarmon’s protest at the dangers are reasoned away with a promise that the reward far outweighs the risk. A Stone is to be retrieved from The Tomb, one that was owned by Tarkon himself. An ancient hero of Tardoc, the first city of Tardania, he had given the Stone to his beloved Shoona just before his harrowing death at the hands of a marauding mob. Brandor cannot add anything more about the Stone’s relevance and what it is for, simply stating that go they must if the greater plan is to be fulfilled.
Parting accordingly, Brandor ventures east to the other main citys of The Freelands, determined to convince the many Masters of The Arts living there to build his Wall of Power. Leaving the rest of the group to travel northwards on their own, full of doubt considering Hanor’s illness and lack of memory, Tarmon’s reservations cannot be ignored, their new leader having no idea how they will retrieve this apparent Stone.
When arriving at The Tomb, they make camp before entering the fearful valley the next morning. Living up to expectations, haunting Souls quickly set upon the group just as Tarmon forewarns. Reaching beneath their resolve, the wraith-like entities attack from within, fear Their greatest weapon. Shocking the group to submission, only when an alert Tarmon realises the intensity of the attack is too much does he manage to warn the others to get out of there. Bane loses himself to the internal chill clawing at him, but is eventually lifted free from his imprisonment by a most surprising figure, that of his best friend Hanor. Leaving the valley, a ridge seems to be a barrier and cut off point for their escape, everyone stunned when breaking clear, all except Hanor that is. Dulled by his illness, he does not experience the attack in the same way as the others, intriguing Tarmon as to why.
After later discussions, Hanor volunteers to go in to the valley on his own, promising his illness’s dulling effects will be enough to protect him, declaring the fear cannot rise beyond his stomach. Unconvinced, the others can do little to stop him, amazed that he is willing to do it. The young heir enters anyway.
When reaching the point where they were attacked previously, Hanor cannot believe how far he is allowed to enter the valley this time, his friends at the ridge disappearing completely from view. Astonished when nearing the base of the valley, a huge stone lip lining the basin floor is the last obstacle; the twenty hand-span drop stalling his progress. Distracted temporarily by the problem, tempted to slide down the steep wall curving at its base, that lapse costs him dear.
Swooping in from behind, a wave of despair crashes into him, sending him sprawling over the lip’s edge. Wounding his knee when landing heavily on the valley floor, to his horror, the attack unsettles him enough to release the fear swelling in his stomach. Bursting through the dulling effects of his illness, the resultant sense of terror shakes him to the core, profoundly so. Still lacking a memory, his emotional state however takes huge strides towards healing, but the timing could not be worse. Verging on panic, he holds his ground nonetheless amongst the turmoil, expecting another strike immediately. Searching for The Tomb, he cannot see it or the Souls, so he limps along the valley floor hoping to find it before another strike comes. Not quick enough, the mist of Souls descend in front to bar his way. But rather than cower, a moment of inspiration urges him to challenge them, charging forward without a care for his own life.
Time alters in that short instant. Heightened senses gained from his stay in Yarmoria now come to his rescue, releasing mental energies of a supernormal kind. Unsure how or why, but it is sufficient to frighten the Souls off long enough to find the fabled Tomb of Tarkon now cut into the rock face behind him. Stepping into the pitch darkness, relieved when the Souls seem unwilling to follow him, that generates further doubts as to what might be inside. Continuing on down the long tunnel nonetheless, he is most surprised to find a chamber of considerable size at its end. Searching that lightless place for what seems like an age, the quiet prayer for help uttered timidly just prior to losing himself to slumber is soon forgotten.
Upon waking, a new development occurs to his surprise. Materialising before his very eyes, an emerging soft light in front does not startle him, quite the contrary. Triggering warm sensations in his heart, mirroring that astonishing episode when first awakened to such powers by Brandor, what is even more amazing is when the light in front turns into a shape, a person. And not just any person, it is his brother, Nole.
When the pages of his own history start running through his straining mind, Hanor’s memory returning to him amongst the drama, the ghastly episode at Bovvers Crossing nearly undoes him. Full of pain and anguish, questions flow through the anger; “why” being the strongest one to cry aloud. Even though Nole shares some of his pain, the love he has for Hanor stays at the forefront, enough to dampen his brother’s suffering. And it is this love that eventually leads Hanor to discover the Stone of Tarkon’s whereabouts. Thinking about the love they had for each other prior to Nole’s death prompts the feelings in Hanor’s heart to expand further, a warm loving light emerging through the darkness. Amazed by the glowing warmth, Hanor is dazzled even more when his younger brother points at the wall behind him. Radiating as if containing its own source of light, the Stone of Tarkon beams in response to the love Hanor feels in his heart, the strong sensations enough to prompt the Stone’s return to this realm for good. Drawn by Its wonderful light and power, the blazing show lasts but for a few heartbeats, going out shortly after Hanor plucks it from the wall. Unsure what to do with it, Nole does not offer any answers either, leaving him to trust that someone like Brandor will know.
Truly thankful to see Nole again, but when his younger brother urges him to leave and continue with his journey, for so much was depending upon his success, Hanor is naturally torn, not wanting to depart. Wisdom though wins him over, and he follows his brother’s wishes.