Keys of Candor: Trilogy

by Casey Eanes

  Arakiel pulled himself free, snatching himself back and scrambling for the room’s edge. Seam stood to his feet, incensed. “I have had enough of this!” Seam sneered at Nyx and Abtren as they shrunk back into the adjacent room of the titan liked whipped dogs.

  Seam stood over Arakiel before kneeling and piercing him with his eyes. “Tell me, you so-called god. Why should I allow you to live?”

  Arakiel spat on the floor between them. “You speak of things you cannot possibly understand, mortal. Tell me, did your heart twist in your chest when you saw me coming for you?” A horrible rolling laughter spilled out of Arakiel, and the god’s eyes pierced through him as he continued, “I have all the time in the world, High King. You can never kill me and you know it. A thousand years is but a day, and a day is but a thousand years. Even with your precious Keys, you’ve shown yourself to have weaknesses. You are capable of mistakes. There will be more. You will err, and we...we will strike. So punish me, cruel Keeper. Drain my powers again. Make me feel the pain only you can inflict. It is only a mere shadow of the fate that awaits you, Keeper. You cannot hide behind those cursed Keys forever.”

  The words sent a jolt through Seam. He retaliated in an instant, grasping Arakiel’s throat and choking his laughter through clinched teeth. “When I am finished with you, you will wish you could die.”

  Arakiel opened his mouth to scream, but all that came was laughter. Cursed, defiant laughter. It rattled the titan as it rumbled through the canyon pass. It made Seam furious as he fought to pull as much energy from Arakiel as his body would allow. Soon the mocking laughs were barely audible, weak, crisp whispers escaping from the fragile frame of the cursed god. He dropped Arakiel onto the steel floor of the titan like a tattered rag and spat on him. He stood over Arakiel and slammed his steel boot into the god’s small frame only to then pick him up and hurl the crumpled mass through the destroyed, concave wall clawed out by the Serubs. Nyx and Abtren lingered in the shadows, wary of their raging master. Arakiel let out a soft whimper as he crashed at his kin’s feet, but he still bore a twisted, insane smile. Seam’s nostrils flared and his eyes met with Abtren and Nyx’s, his face mottled with hate. “Remember this before you test me again.”

  Seam stepped back into the cockpit, his mind boiling, full of fury. He could not believe his own stupidity. His reckless experiment had nearly cost him everything. All of it, his kingdom, his power was nearly destroyed in an instant. Seam sat there, his mind a mixture of fear and unmistakable relief. He was so caught up in his thoughts he barely noticed the chirping of his datalink. Grateful for the distraction, he flipped open the screen to meet a face he had not seen in a long time. Cyric. The hunter smiled, his stubbled face glowing with pride. “I believe you owe me one million credits, High King.”

  Seam’s cocked his head. “So you have him? The Mastermonk?”

  The camera panned from Cyric’s smiling face to reveal Wael blindfolded and bound in the corner of a dark, wood-paneled room. Cyric’s face reappeared and his smile grew wider. “So, High King. We had a deal. When do I get my money?”

  “As soon as he is delivered to the Spire. Alive.”

  Seam snapped the datalink shut, ready to rid himself of the mercenary. At least Cyric is loyal to me as long as he is paid. The thought of having the Mastermonk in his possession was a victory, but it did not shake the empty void Seam felt within. He thought on the Arakiel’s words, and those of Hosp. What if they are right? Seam took in a deep breath. He held the warm air in his chest and slowly exhaled it. His mind felt like a tempest of buzzing bees, painfully alive with too many thoughts. If only I could sleep. Sleep was the only thing his power could not give him, and the only thing that he wanted more than all the gold and glory in the world.

  The Serubs had nearly bested him, but fate, it seemed, had other plans. The thought of releasing two more of the cursed creatures from their mirrors gave him much to consider. For the first time in his ascension, he realized a horrible truth. There was no one who could guide him, advise him, or help him. You are alone in this journey. Completely alone.

  A rough hand grasped Wael’s arm and jerked him to his feet. “Come on, monk. Time for me to get paid.”

  A rope slipped around Wael’s throat and he could feel a vibration of energy swelling within its fibers. Taze rope. Wael cleared his throat as he took a few steps behind Cyric.

  “Now, don’t make me fry your pretty little brains out, monk. Seam asked for you alive and I do my best to keep my clients happy. I don’t want to watch your eyes boil out your head.”

  Wael nodded behind his blindfold as he dutifully followed his captor. Cryic had been an unfortunate and unexpected roadblock in the monk’s search for the Sixth. Wael had guessed that there would be hunters, and he had carefully instructed Grift to stay out of the cities or towns where he would be seen and travel through the wilderness. Willyn would stay concealed deep within the throngs of Baggers on her way to the Groganlands. Wael had followed suit, keeping his journey on the outskirts of civilization, choosing the desolate, crooked paths to conduct his search for the Exile. Someone has betrayed you, Wael. The thought entered the monk’s mind and he shuddered at the thought. Someone in Taluum was allied with the Dominion. That could be the only possibility.

  Unfortunate. No one within the entire Alephian Order could be trusted now. Wael’s mind ran circles around the thoughts, as he heard Cyric open a beer and sit down next to him, his breath tainted with the bitter Elum brew.

  “I’m not taking any chances after the fight you put up. Most trouble I’ve ever had out of a mark, but I have to give you credit, you do know how to use that staff. Too bad for you I had to sell it.” Cyric looked back at Wael and smirked. “Staff or not, I wager you’ll be dead soon. I’m sure you won’t miss it.”

  Wael paused, weighing out his response. “You’re a very skilled hunter, Cyric. The best in all of Candor, I would suppose...but listen to me. Listen to what I have to say.”

  Cyric chugged the remainder of the beer and tugged on the taze rope, pulling Wael down to the ground, still tied to the chair. “I wouldn’t waste your words, monk. One million credits is too good a bounty for me to reconsider, even if you are a holy man.”

  Wael spoke through the pain, his voice filling the room. “Seam is not what you suppose. His ambitions have gone too far. He has unlocked our common enemy.”

  “The Serubs?” Cyric laughed. “I see and know much more than you could guess, monk. I know exactly what Seam is doing, and he’s playing a dangerous game. I aim to make the most of this chaos. It’s good for business.”

  “You must listen to me, Cyric. This is not a game!”

  “You’re wrong there, preacher. All of this is a game.” Cyric’s voice went dark, growling in the gloom. “One big, cosmic game made up of pawns and kings. The game you’re playing, Wael, you can’t win. It’s rigged, stacked against you. I don’t like your odds at all, my friend. That’s enough talk. It’s time to collect my credits.” Wael tasted a dirty gag come across his mouth.

  An old worn jeep sat with its back hatch open on the dirt road behind the tavern Cyric had used as his temporary hideout. He loaded Wael into the trunk and snapped the tailgate shut. Wael could feel the engine fire to life as it spun off, beginning the slow journey to Zenith.

  The vehicle bounced along, its busted suspension pummeling through the rough gravel and dirt roads for what seemed like an eternity. Wael felt the heat of the day give way to the coming dusk, and to his surprise, the jeep slowed down. The engine shut off, and Wael heard Cyric come around to the back.

  “Time for a break, monk. I’ve got some bread and water for you. If you scream, I’ll gag you and we’ll be back on the road again, got it? I don’t have time for foolishness.”

  Wael nodded and Cyric removed the dirty rag from his mouth. Wael felt a small loaf of bread fall in his hands, followed by a canteen of water. He worked his sore jaws and rubbed at his cheek. He was happy to have water pass through his dry and chapped lips. He
coughed as the liquid relieved him and he spoke to his captor with genuine thanks. “Thank you.” Then he tore into the stale, dry bread.

  After eating, he tuned his ears for any clues. He could hear the lonely calls of the owls, echoing over the trees. We are on the border of Riht, just before the desert passes. He spoke, hoping to gain something from his captor more than food and water. “How far out are we, Cyric?”

  The bounty hunter laughed and threw a sidelong glance at the monk in the dark. “Are you counting the last remaining days of freedom?”

  Wael smiled and stared at him behind the blindfold. “I am free at all times, Cyric. I simply wondered how many days I have to pray for you and the High King. I don’t want to waste time.”

  Cyric coughed and grunted. Wael could feel the hunter wanting to make some comeback, but in the end he said nothing. The only sound that accompanied him was the scratch of a match flick followed by the repugnant smell of a stale cigarette. After a long pause, Cyric grumbled, his voice reluctant, “It’s time we keep moving, monk.” A firm rope fell across Wael’s arms, tightening around his wrists to the point of pain.

  “That’s not necessary, Cyric. I’m not going to run away.” The words came out of Wael almost unconsciously, but the Mastermonk knew that he was exactly where he needed to be. He could feel it in his bones. He whispered a silent prayer of thanks.

  “You’re worth too much to me, Wael. I’m not taking any chances.” Cyric tightened the harsh rope around him and led him back to the jeep.

  Wael’s voice whispered in the night, not in fear but in jarring confidence. “You don’t have to do this. There is nothing stopping you from letting me free.”

  Wael could see Cryic cringe in his mind’s eye, only to feel the dirty rage come across his mouth.

  “No more sermons, holy man.”

  The jeep roared again with life, and Wael felt the tires spin beneath him. Despite the violent rumbles and quaking of the derelict vehicle, Wael relaxed and the darkness of a deep sleep soon enveloped him.

  Wael woke to the sound of Cyric slamming on the brakes. Pain eclipsed over his face as he slammed in the back of the jeep, and he gasped behind the gag, trying to remember where he was. The sound of Cyric’s horn filled the air, and Wael could hear him cursing at someone standing in the road.

  “Hey! You! Move it or I’ll run you over!”

  Cyric laid into the horn one more time before Wael felt the front of the car being lifted from the ground. The dark world around him began to spin and Cyric screamed out a torrent of curses as the sound of gunshots filled the air.

  The world stopped spinning, and Wael’s head collided again, only this time against the back of the jeep. He felt the truck lurch forward while its engine roared with life. Cyric was slamming on the gas. Suddenly, the vehicle lost its connection to the earth and spun in the air. What is happening? The vehicle erupted with an explosive crash, rolling in a chorus of shattering glass and crunching, moaning metal.

  Wael tried to brace himself as the small vehicle tumbled multiple times, but it was impossible due to his bindings. The sounds of the crumpling car mixed with the sound of snapping tree limbs before the car made one final crash and came to rest on its side. Wael heard Cyric kick open the door and bolt for cover in the woods. There was no chase as the hunter retreated deeper into the dense forest, his rapid footsteps crunching through the foliage.

  The car was silent for several minutes and Wael waited, still tied in the cargo hold. A dreadful conclusion entered his mind. Another hunter. It has to be. He kicked at the trunk lid, but it shuddered under the hard brace of a deadbolt. After a few seconds, Wael heard the sound of the trunk lid being ripped from its hinges.

  Light flooded the trunk as Wael tried to find a way to peer from behind his blindfold. A hand pulled the fabric from his eyes and untied the taze rope around his neck.

  Wael blinked and focused in on a familiar face, his mind struggling to comprehend who he was seeing. There, nearly eclipsed in the noonday sun, was the face of someone he had longed to find, one thought dead by many: Luken. He smiled and reached into the trunk.

  “I understand you’ve been looking for me, Wael.”

  Wael’s mouth opened wide as Luken loosed his gag. Wael’s heart hammered in his chest. He could find no words as relief washed over him. The Exile, the Sixth of the Celestials, had revealed himself.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  “Kull.”

  The name landed with a thud against Nameless’ ears. The sound of the name was distant, yet recognizable.

  Nameless dug his toes into the fine, white sand and stared at the beautiful woman in front of him. Her blonde hair shone like a river of gold, cascading over her shoulders. Her cool blue eyes sparkled like sapphires, and her face looked as if it had never bore a single worry.

  The woman had a name too. Rose. She claimed to be his mother, a term that his mind strained to remember the significance of. Yet, in the woman’s presence, Nameless felt small thoughts beginning to trickle into his memory, causing his body to tremble.

  A collage of faces sped through his mind, each one calling him by his name. “Kull.” The faces flashed by him too quickly for him to recognize them, but the reality of his name hit him like a thunderbolt. His name was Kull. He was Kull.

  After surrendering to the name, he turned to face the woman. She was radiant and her presence brought a feeling unlike any other. Peace. Yes, that was the feeling, though far weightier than the word he remembered from the other side. It was as if everything was in a state of serene safety and perfection.

  “Kull. It’s me.” Rose reached out a soft hand and touched his cheek. She smiled as she held her hand to his face. “Your spirit has grown so strong, son. So strong, and so brave. That day you left me, when Cotswold was burning, I knew we would see each other again.” A gentle smile grew across her face. “I love you.”

  “I love you too, mom.” The words escaped from Kull’s lips before he could register them in his mind. He reached out and embraced his mother. “I...I’ve missed you.”

  “I’ve missed you too.” Rose gently kissed Kull’s head and repeated the tender words. “I missed you too.”

  Kull stepped back and looked down at his crumbling, coarse skin. His covering was nothing like that of his mother’s. Her body was in a state of perfection. As he gazed down at his own crumbling frame, he realized that he was broken. He glanced from his own cracking, breaking skin to his mother. The look on his face surrendered his thoughts, and fear grew on his face.

  “We are here for very different reasons, Kull.” Rose’s answer was as gentle as the breeze blowing over the coast. It comforted him. “That is why we are different now.”

  Kull glanced back out over the black waters that crashed against the shore behind him. His eyes met with his mother’s again. Rose nodded softly and continued, “I am thankful I was able to meet you here, before you begin.”

  “Begin?” The question rolled out of his mouth before he could stop it. “What are you talking about?”

  Rose lowered her gaze on her son, her voice loving, but serious. “You are here for a very special purpose, Kull. One that was not intended by those who sent you.” A smile grew over Rose’s countenance. “I am so proud of you. You never gave up. At every moment, you continued to fight. You never lost hope, even when you were trapped out in the Sea of Souls.”

  “I don’t understand,” stammered Kull. Questions orbited around his mind with growing ferocity. “Where are we?”

  His mother stared at him, her face like dawn’s coming. “You will soon find out, my son. I am not permitted to say anymore.” Rose turned and motioned her hand toward the horizon. “Now...follow me.”

  Kull obliged and followed Rose as she walked toward the horizon. Nothing changed at the horizon’s edge, but the Sea of Souls disappeared into a tiny black blot behind them. Rose and Kull continued to press forward. The sound of the crashing waves retreated into a vacuum of pure silence. There was no noise in that spa
ce, no texture, only a bright, consuming light. Light, Rose, and Kull, nothing more. The two ventured onward and Kull tried to unearth more memories of his mother. They were few and far between, but Kull treasured each small image that passed through his consciousness as they walked.

  A song came to his mind, and with it the memory of his mother cooking. Rose was exuberant in her singing as she baked for her son and her husband, Grift. Grift. The name of Kull’s father exploded in his mind, joining the chorus of his mother’s song.

  His guiding hands they pull me through,

  This pain, this pause for me and you,

  Reason hidden and locked away,

  Grows our patience for each new day.

  Kull found himself humming the tune as they marched. Rose looked back and smiled. “You always did love music.” Her voice felt distant though she was only feet away. The empty space they paced through distorted even the sound of her voice.

  Their march finally ended, and Rose stopped to face Kull. She smiled again and kissed Kull on the cheek before hugging him tightly and stepping back. A small tear rolled down her cheek.

  “This is where we must say goodbye for now.” She smiled and wiped the small drop from her cheek. “Thank you, Kull.” With her final words, Rose vanished, disappearing into the bright light that surrounded them.

  Fear grew in Kull’s heart and he screamed, “Wait! Where are you going?” The question was too late. She was gone, but Kull knew he was not alone. He turned, and behind him, a vast mountain appeared. The shift in scenery caused Kull to close his eyes and open them again, only to find he was now standing on solid ground. The pillar’s base was surrounded by a thick canopy of huge, strong trees that stood proudly before him like soldiers standing at attention.

  Kull shook his head, expecting the scene to disappear like a mirage, but nothing changed. The enormous oaks and evergreen trees swayed in the cool wind of this new place, bowing only to the foot of a great, gray stone mountain that pierced the sky with its summit.