Chapter 24: Potiora Toru

The next morning Cassandra and I meet with Ikaroa and Nyree at the Halls of Ancestors. Cassandra works with the two Elf Maidens in examining the scenes that are described by symbols that are infrequently used among the sixty scenes. Her hope is that by translating the little used symbols, she may be able to identify some structure in the makeup of the various symbols.

For my part, I study the scene that Cassandra said showed people entering or leaving a tower. When I study the picture closely, I realise that it isn’t the stone tower that is depicted. The tower in the picture has a rounded top, just like the top of the metal interior tower. If I’m right, then it seems that there is an entrance to the metal tower at it’s base. The door I discovered on my previous visit must serve some other purpose.

Although Kahu showed little support for Cassandra’s desire to see inside the tower, we haven’t been forbidden from exploring inside. I suspect Kahu believes that we won’t be able to gain access to the inner tower without her help. The obvious entrance partway up the metal tower is securely closed, so to that extent Kahu is right. But if there is another entrance lower down, then it might allow us to get inside on our own.

I don’t want to risk angering Kahu, so I resolve to take a look for the lower entrance on my own. Involving Cassandra and the two Elf Maidens would make them complicit in any action that might offend the Rangatira. I let Cassandra know that I’m going to look at the tower, but I don’t reveal my theory about a lower door.

The main entrance to the stone tower is a few metres off the ground, and is accessed from a wooden ramp. Once inside the stone tower’s main entrance, the only possible route is up the steps spiralling around the inside of the tower. I backtrack and study the exterior of the stone tower’s base for signs of another entrance. While the main entrance to the tower is inside the set of buildings that form the Halls of Ancestors, about twothirds of the base of the tower is outside. Scrubby bush has been allowed to grown against the tower wall, hiding whatever is behind. I persevere in my search and before long I come across a small wooden door that outwardly appears to be unused. However, the footprints in the mud in front of the door tell another story.

I try opening the door, expecting it to be locked. I’m surprised when it opens to reveal a short corridor leading to a circular door in the metal tower. The corridor is gloomy but there is sufficient daylight behind me to see. I step forward and locate a recessed handle in the circular door. I move the handle in the only direction the recess allows and push on the door. It swings open with remarkable ease given its age. I step over the curved lip at the bottom of the door and enter into another corridor that crosses to the other side of the tower. As soon as I step into the corridor, a bright light appears along the length of the ceiling above me. I’ve never encountered such magic before, and my first instinct is to run. But cowardice will achieve nothing, so I walk along the corridor.

“Koi si ti,” says a female voice, seemingly coming from all around me.

“I don’t understand you,” I reply, searching for the source of the voice and trying hard not to wet my pants.

Whatever language the hidden woman is speaking isn’t elven or Thurnian. There’s a short pause before the hidden woman speaks again.

“Who ist thou?” says the voice in what I identify as old Thurnian.

“My name is Alexandrescu,” I reply. “I’m the Thurnian trade envoy to the elven people.”

My meaningless title awarded by Thurn’s emperor at the Chief Procurator’s request has so far been nothing more than an embarrassment. But in this situation it might be of some help.

“Welcome to Potiora Toru, Alexandrescu,” replies the still hidden voice in more modern Thurnian. “I do not understand your term ‘elven’. Who are the people you call elven.”

“Elves are the name that the people of Thurn have given to the race who live here in this township,” I reply.

“I comprehend. You are saying that Atenex and elves are different names for the same race. Why do your people not call the Atenex by their correct name?”

“When our two races first met fifty years ago, our respective ancestors were unable to speak a common language. We were unable to ask for their race’s name.”

I don’t add that I doubt it would have made a jot of difference had the Thurnian explorers known that the people they had encountered were called Atenex. Elves were originally regarded as nothing more than animals, and not deserving of their own choice of name. For decades, elves born in Thurn had only a serial number for a name. In recent times Thurnian attitude towards has elves improved. However, most Thurnians still want nothing to do with elves, and those that do usually want to exploit them.

“And what is your business in Potiora Toru, Alexandrescu?” asks the woman.

“I am a student of history and I am trying to understand the meaning of the murals outside in the Halls of Ancestors. The symbols around each picture are strange to me and I was hoping to find a means of translating them into our language.”

“You are not the first to try and understand the purpose of the Halls of Ancestors. Over the years, many Atenex have sought my counsel, but none have truly understood the advice I have given. Now the Atenex have stopped visiting Potiora Toru. You are the first of the Thurnian race to seek my knowledge. Perhaps you will succeed where the Atenex have failed.”

I’ve come across the term ‘Potiora’ during my past studies of history. I scour my memory to recall exactly where I encountered the word before, and its meaning. Hopefully, it will give me a clue about the tower’s purpose. Finally I recall that it was described in one of the generally discredited versions of Thurnian ancient history. The author described it as a deep cavern where time stood still. The ridiculous idea of such a thing is what made me remember his words.

“Do you have a name?” I ask, overcoming my alarm at the strange invisible woman.

“I am Dioxippe of the Heliades,” replies the voice.

“Will you show yourself so that we can talk?”

“I have no physical form, but that does not mean we cannot talk.”

“I don’t understand,” I reply, realising that the elves wariness at entering the inner tower may be justified. “Are you a magical being?”

“The Heliades are daughters of the sun,” replies Dioxippe cryptically. “As for my being magical, then that is an interesting question. What is magic but an explanation for things that you don’t understand. It is unfortunate that your race, like the Atenex, has lost so much of its scientific knowledge. The Potiora Toru can help you restore that lost knowledge if you are truly capable of understanding its wisdom.”