The Chronicles of Quat Short Story: The Courage of a Chandar

The Chronicles of Quat Short Story:  

The Courage of a Chandar 

by Bryen O'Riley

Chandoon watched the Faellyn Isles grow smaller and smaller. His boat was pointed south at a fast clip. Speed was perhaps the most important aspect of a successful mission for him. In fact, it was always a large part of any activity that must be completed when one's life was ending before the mission had even begun.

He and the four other remaining Chandar had left a note, a fabrication, for the Fae and the Blanæuthra. It claimed that the Stone had warned them of the necessity of this suicide mission. It said that the Stone told of certain disaster if anyone else attempted to join them in the rescue of the Stone. It was all lies but the Chandar couldn't allow more people to die defending their homeland.

When the powerful men in blue robes came to their island to inhabit it, the Chandar hadn't dreamed they would be forced to master the skill of fighting and killing. The Chandar remembered when the Fae had first come to their island many, many years before. They thought the men in blue would be the same, a peaceful neighbor, but the Chandar couldn't have been more wrong. The Fae had been happy to train them, they needed an ally in their fight against the blue men, and the Chandar had learned. They had become fearsome warriors. They had given everything, their very existence, to their revenge.

Chandoon looked down at the last female Chandar, Nandeeroon, who sat slumped in the bow of the boat. She had agreed to their mission but was the most reluctant. Before leaving the island she had demanded that each of the males attempt to sire a child with her. Why, was a mystery to Chandoon. Not a single Chandar woman had become with child since leaving their island two years previously. The Fae Meddyg had studied the problem and found nothing wrong with the health of any Chandar, female or male. Even if she had become with child, what good would that do? If it were a boy, he would be without a wife and if it were a girl, there would be four men, each a possible father, to choose for a husband when she was of age in nearly two decades.

And then all the children had died. One by one, without getting sick or any other explanation. The entire nation of Chandar had mourned, and then they went to their island and slaughtered any man in blue that they saw.

But the blue men kept coming. There were more and more of them, a seemingly unceasing tide, moving onto their old island home. And they were powerful. For each single man killed, more than a dozen Chandar had to die. The toll was heavy and quickly felt. Two years and only five remained.

Chandoon thought Nandeeroon just wanted some hope, something to show that they could win; that they could continue. But they couldn't win. They had already lost. But they could help the Fae, and someday, he knew, the Fae would win. He had hope— it just wasn't hope for the Chandar.

There were several theories. The first was that being away from their island was killing them. They knew that they had a special connection to it and well-traveled Chandar had previously experienced sickness if they were away from the island for too long. That was probably true in the beginning and is probably what killed the children. But after a year or so on the Faellyn Islands the remaining Chandar did begin to develop an affinity toward the new island that was so very similar to theirs. But the women still couldn't conceive and some of the best warriors began to die like the children. Another theory developed, and as their boat approached their island Chandoon could feel its truth, that the blue men were corrupting their island and any Chandar who spent very much time there came to the same end as those who had died from being away from it.

But the change was much worse now. Chandoon hadn't been to the island in almost a year and he could feel the difference plainly. The natural order had been shifted, skewed. The blue men were rearranging the make-up of the island itself to suit their purposes and the nature that the Chandar had lovingly attended was off-kilter now. It was jarring to his very essence and from the sharp tensions in the boat he knew the others felt it too. They had known this was a suicide mission but now there could be no doubt. This return to their homeland would kill them. He just hoped it wouldn't kill them too quickly, there was work to be done.

Once they landed they had to traverse their former home into the middle of the island. It was easy for them, even in the dark, they knew their island so well. Finally, they came upon the city the blue men were beginning to build in the very center of the island.

The Chandar stole through the streets unnoticed in the dark.

The Fae had been happy to receive their help but reluctant to let the Chandar do very much. The Chandar didn't have special powers as the Fae and blue men did. They bled and died like anyone on the Continent would but they were fearless. That is what the Fae leader had said about them. Chandoon could feel his chest swell with pride remembering that moment.

But they were in the city now and he couldn't afford to be distracted. This final act was their only chance to thwart the blue men's plans and to thank the Fae for equipping and allowing them to seek their revenge on the parasites in blue.

The arrogant men in blue didn't even have a guard on their only finished structure of governance. The Fae's Stone had been located within this building by one of the Fae priests. They merely had to retrieve it and return it to the Fae before they all died.

The plan was simple and made simpler by the apparent lack of guards. Get into the building by any means possible. Get the Stone. Get out of the building by any means possible. Get the Stone to the Fae. Then, die.

An Excerpt from The Stone - Fortress Ruins

An Excerpt from The Chronicles of Quat: The Stone

by Bryen O'Riley

Fortress Ruins

Tad returned his mother’s letter to his pocket and resumed his watch of the motionless scene.

“So, do you think there will be a sign or something? How are we supposed to find the Stone among all those other stones?” Chet was nervously prattling in Tad’s ear as Tad scanned the ruins for life.

They were paused at the edge of the clearing, concealed by the forest. Tad couldn’t get the picture of the people drawn onto the rock lying face down before the Stone out of his mind. A stone couldn’t kill them. Right? There didn’t appear to be any guards but perhaps that had only been the case when the fortress was still standing.

“Shh!” Tad twisted his torso to give Chet a fierce glare before surveying the ruins once more. Chet always rambled on when he was nervous. It had to be the worst nervous habit that ever existed.

Tad discovered that one of the strings from his shirt had somehow gotten into his mouth and that he was chewing on it. He heard Chet heave an irritated sigh when he pulled the soggy end from his mouth. Chet thought it was childish to chew on clothing. But was it all right chattering on about nothing when silence was essential?

After several minutes of study, Tad had to conclude that nothing alive was among the rubble. Of course, something still could be but they had been careful and quiet, apart from Chet’s excited whispers, as they approached. If something lurked within the ruins, it had had no warning from them and would have no reason to remain hidden. That didn’t mean that nothing lurked in there but their waiting would serve no purpose. Something that chose to remain hidden for as long as they had watched and waited wouldn’t be showing itself in the length of time he was willing to watch the ruins. Tad and Chet didn’t have the luxury of time. They were nearing the end of their store of food, their patience with each other, and their commitment to a questionablyworthwhile quest. What they had come for all this way lay within their grasp. He wasn’t going to put this off any longer. They must find the Stone and so must enter the ruins.

“We actually found it!” Chet whispered excitedly.

He was motioning to something in the clearing and Tad saw that the very precise location of four great trees located exactly at the four directional points. Spaced exactly in between the trees were four enormous rocks, making a ring around the entire fortress. Chet was right. This had been clearly marked on the map. This must be the fortress that held the Stone. They had finally found it.

“I didn’t really think it existed until we found that map,” Chet nearly bubbled, “but here it is. At last! I can’t believe it, can you?”

Tad laid a finger over his lips as he tied Dend to a tree. Chet followed suit. They took as many weapons as they could easily wield and quietly slipped into the clearing.

Why am I doing this? Tad couldn’t suppress his mutinous thoughts as they approached the ancient rubble. I still don’t know what this stone is or why it is important. His mother’s letter had required him to Seek the Stone and to Believe it. Why? She had said, “You will succeed or everything dear in this world will end.” Was she insane? Why should he wander around an illegal and dangerous forest on a mere hint from her when she refused to answer nearly all of his questions outright? Am I crazy? Why am I doing this?

But he was doing it. He was at that very moment jogging warily toward a stone with unknown powers, guards who might want to kill him, and any number of dangerous beasts stalking the woods around them. He had to be crazy.

“Tad! Look out!”

Tad had been watching the ruins not the woods. Chet’s warning came just in time for him to pivot and dive out of the way of a wolf that was leaping for his throat. Where had that come from? He grabbed his untested spear and set himself for the next move as the animal spun and leapt again. He saw the sturdy, loyal form of his friend nocking his arrow from the corner of his eye.

My First Book Signing

Over the weekend, I had my first book signing.  I was absolutely amazed by the kindness of the retail store owner to put it together.  She did a lot more than set up a table for me to sit at as people walked by.  This kind woman formed an event.  She invited two other local authors, a tarot card reader, and a new coffee company - she even had a craft table set up for kids and refreshments!  She advertised the event and called it Star Day.

An Interview about The Stone!

Luthando Coeur interview with Bryen O'Riley, author of The Chronicles of Quat: The Stone

LC: The Stone offers us a glimpse of a world in which science and faith interweave. How did you come to feel the force of such an opposition?

BrO:... I think that it is science’s fault really. Regardless of your faith--whether Christian, ancient Norse, Muslim, Wiccan, Jewish, Mormon, whatever--science is adamantly telling you that something of what you believe is wrong. That it didn’t or doesn’t happen. Science has the audacity to claim to have knowledge about those non-quantifiable, unobservable phenomena that your belief claims. Yet, science is only able to deal in quantifiable, observable events! I say, “Science keep your nose out of others' business! Stick to what you know, like photosynthesis, and leave the rest alone!”

To me, that very real element of our world – in which science and faith collide – is a great basis for a fantasy world where both sides can be beefed up a little bit with fantastical elements and made to compete for power. Who will win? You’ll just have to read The Chronicles of Quat series to find out!

LC: You and I have talked about the novel, obviously. I am quick to point out some of its Steampunk elements. The more I think of it, though, it is actually this clash between science and faith which is at the basis. Science's encounter with faith, and vice versa, was a feature of periods subsequent to the 1890s (the Steampunk 'Era.')

Excerpt from The Stone - A Scientific Act

An Excerpt from The Chronicles of Quat: The Stone

By Bryen O’Riley

A Scientific Act

“Why don’t you eat?” Chet asked, as he polished off his second plate.

Tad opened his mouth to reply but was saved by the signature clap, clap of Councilman Netwhin as he stood to get everyone’s attention. The entire village quieted, and Netwhin couldn’t suppress the smile of satisfaction that lit his face as the crowd obeyed his signal.

“Good evening, masters and mistresses. Of course, we are here today to celebrate the homecoming of an honored citizen of Idynn, Etan den Lyra.”

Everyone clapped.

“I would now like for you to give your attention to Scientist den Lyra, who wishes to address you and prove his skill with a scientific act for your amazement.”

The crowd roared. There was no mistaking they were here to see Etan perform an act of science.

Etan stepped forward. For the first time since coming to Idynn, he was wearing the royal blue mantle that marked him as a scientist. He raised his hands. “Good people of Idynn. It is very nice to be home. It has been five long years since I have seen you, and I am pleased to find you healthy and prosperous.” He looked around the crowd. “Among you are family members”—he smiled at Rynn and Tad—“friends”—he glanced a little sadly at the group across the Green who kept their far seats but were now quiet as they waited to see the act that would effectively end their friendship with the new scientist—“schoolmates”—this was to Lynna—“and fellow citizens of Idynn”—his gazed swept across the crowd. 


Etan had acquired an ability to make every person in the crowd believe he was speaking directly to them.

Tad watched the townspeople more than his brother. He watched as some squirmed and some beamed under the gaze of a scientist. He saw his brother’s natural charm combined with the authority of a scientist sway the crowd to him.

“I left you as one of your boys, no different from the other young men of the village, and returned to you a scientist. As a new blacksmith might be asked to demonstrate to you his trade, I have been asked to demonstrate to you my skill: a scientific act.”

Etan flourished his hands theatrically, and the crowd’s eyes widened in anticipation. He smiled his most winning smile, and Tad heard a girl sigh. Please. He stifled a groan.

Etan reached down to a pedestal set up beside him, which Tad hadn’t previously noticed, covered in a deep blue cloth, the color of Quat. The cloth reached completely to the floor and looked to be of the very best cashmere. Etan pinched the blue between his fingers, flung his arm back, and pulled the cloth from the pedestal.

The regular Council podium stood there, but instead of the enormous Book of Laws, a golden bowl swirled intricately with yellow and red stood in its place.

“The bowl is filled with regular water from the well that stands right over there.” Etan turned to his right and addressed a former schoolmate. “Jendar, can you verify that you filled the bowl with water from that very well?”

Jendar nodded. “I sure did. With my own two hands.”

“Unless the scientist switched it to magic water when we weren’t looking?” a faithless voice in the back of the crowd shouted.

An Excerpt from The Stone - Entering Quat City

An Excerpt from The Chronicles of Quat: The Stone

by Bryen O'Riley

Entering Quat City

Etan rode through Quat City, as always amazed at how different it was from the land of his birth. To enter Quat City, one had to be a Quatist, a scientist, an apprentice, or a support person committed to the way of science. If an apprentice failed the test or a support person sought to leave, he would have his memory of Quat completely dissolved. When they returned to the rest of the world, they would not be able to give away the secret accomplishments of science.

Clearly, if the commoners knew of the luxuries that Quat enjoyed, they would demand the same for themselves. Without the discipline and understanding of science, however, those luxuries would inevitably corrupt and wreak havoc on the established order. It was deemed best that the commoners should go without, but of course the same did not go for scientists and Quatists. So Quat was a closed city that lived eons ahead of the rest of the world, and all luxuries and advances were strictly kept from the populace at large.

Etan rode his horse down a main thoroughfare in early evening. The hum of etherlamps rose as one when they came alight simultaneously to banish every shadow from the street. He caught his breath. It was a glorious thing to see the shadows of evening banished by a scientific act. He wished for just one moment that he had been allowed to demonstrate the ether for Idynn. Etan smiled; they would have fallen to the ground in shock. They had hardly been able to fathom his simple compass and how he had changed the direction with a mere magnet.

It hadn’t been so long ago that he had been as simpleminded as they. He could hardly remember that now, but it was important to recall nonetheless. He didn’t want to forget his humble origins. These were the people he was to advise and rule, after all.

The streets were wide, with etherlamps lining the street at regular, measured intervals. A few people strode purposefully along, clearly on business they felt was important. Several wore the deep blue mantles of scientists and Quatists but a few were clearly apprentices. This part of Quat was reserved for official use and most people had retired to the residential areas of the city by now, but the faithful few were still working hard to ensure the Isle of Quat and the world beyond were ruled effectively and efficiently.

The buildings were set back from the street and built of magnificent stone. Each building was without seams or cracks but rather looked as if an enormous solid stone had been set down, hollowed out, and given windows and doors. There was very little decoration on any building in the city, or the entire island for that matter, as scientists are hardly interested in decorating structures. The massiveness of the buildings alone, and their stone-like appearance, was enough to drop the jaw. Each building was nearly identical with a wide door, sometimes a double door, and nearly floor-to-ceiling windows rising directly from street level. These windows reflected like mirrors night and day; they were stacked on top of each other for each level up. Most buildings were not more than four stories high, with most roofs used for gardening and tree-growing. These stately buildings were reserved for official Quat governance or for academic pursuits.

The walkways between the buildings and the street were laid with large, flat stones cut to the exact same size and lined with evenly spaced trees. There was little dirt to be seen in all of Quat City. Most of the trees had stone paving ringed nearly up to their trunks. The rest of the world offered dirt streets and walkways.

From behind him Etan heard the whoosh of an approaching railcart and quickly nudged his horse to give it wider berth. It didn’t slow down for him but sped along on its rails without a horse or any living thing to pull it. 

The railcarts worked as if by magic to him; that was a choice of study that was not available to apprentices. But now that he was an official scientist, having passed the final test of his hometown accepting his change in station, he would be able to study and experiment on anything science had to offer.

Etan turned down a side road and finally saw another person riding a horse. If one had far to travel in Quat City, railcarts were the best way, but for the local neighborhood travel, horses and walking were still used. Etan had come in on the north road, and this was the fastest way to arrive at his neighborhood. If Etan had chosen to stable his horse at the entrance to Quat, he could have ridden the railcart in.

The side streets were busier, were narrower, and held more people. A horse and cart turned onto the road just ahead of him, and Etan slowed his horse to accommodate the cart’s jostling pace. This side street was cobblestone, which jostled the cart in front of him to no end. The smooth stone of the main road would have felt like a sleigh ride in comparison. 

Most buildings were smaller in the residential neighborhoods, only two stories and made from either brick or wood. These structures had a more comfortable feeling than the academic buildings gave. Etan wondered if the buildings were built in the continental style in part because that is where most people came from and what they associated with home, or if it were merely because the construction was simpler and cheaper. Each neighborhood was centered around one or two slightly larger, but simply built, stone buildings that housed the apprentices.

He would certainly rather live in the side neighborhoods than in the majestic stone buildings. These smaller houses still had all the amenities that science provided: etherlamps, indoor water pumps, indoor privies, coolboxes like he had made for his mother, and heat that radiated from pipes dispersed through all of the walls and floors. At the same time his neighborhood, made up mostly of apprentices, had felt like a small village to him these past five years. He had gotten to know his neighbors, the grocer, butcher, tailor, and other craftsmen serving the apprentices. He smiled as he came to his street. It felt like home.

There were many more people out on the streets now. Groups of young men, set free from the confines of their mentors’ expectations and disapproval, cavorted on the sidewalks and walkways. Many had exchanged the plainer mantles worn during work with brighter, more festive versions for their evening activities. Shopkeepers were at their doors announcing specials and offering samples to the young men, and the young ladies of the city had on their brightest mantles and were swaying along the sidewalks in groups as they easily succeeded in catching the eyes of all the apprentices.

“What’s a scientist doing visiting us lowly apprentices?” a voice spoke from the right side of his horse just as Etan dismounted on the left.

Pseudonyms

I choose to write under a pseudonym and many people have asked me why.  I made this decision based upon a variety of factors:

My real name is long and hard to remember (and spell!), so not the best choice for a pen name. 

Ever since I was a little girl I thought Bryen O'Riley would be a nice name to write under.  There are so many changes to dreams as one grows up - it is nice to be able to see that one through.