Keys of Candor: Trilogy

by Casey Eanes

  An empty, lifeless husk thudded against the cracked tile floor before vanishing into dust as Isphet licked his lips and drew in a long breath. His eyes lit with a new vibrancy as he stared down Abtren, Nyx, and Bastion with malice in his eyes. He turned and sneered at Luken before speaking.

  “Do you feel that, brothers and sisters? Ahhh. I do. Yes, I do.”

  The Serubs’ faces were painted with terror as they realized what had just occurred. Isphet stepped forward as they started to orbit again. Isphet stood with arms outstretched as he gloried in his newfound power, vibrating with freshly absorbed energy.

  Abtren screamed out, her face shrieking with panic. “What happened to you? How can you do this?”

  Isphet laughed and glared at her, licking his lips. “My time away from you has brought me much, sister Abtren. Much even you do not know. Arakiel’s vision for us was too...limited. His scope of power far too...small.” Isphet laughed, his kindred dangling around him like moons running their rotations. He eyed them, his gaze flickering over them without mercy. “What will I do with you all?” A hush fell over the room and a deep chill spread through the space as Isphet’s eyes fell on the broken body of Seam Panderean. The Serubs stared as Isphet stepped forward, gazing down on the fallen High King.

  There, on the floor, Seam Panderean lay, fast asleep in a deep pool of crimson. The months that he bore the Keys of Candor were over, and his body could no longer resist the exhaustion that had followed him like a tormenting shadow.

  “Wake up, Seam.” Isphet’s command seemed to bite, as Seam’s eyes flew open in a flash.

  Isphet stared at Seam with as much pity as one might have for an insect. “You...you are very wise for a mortal. You came to the secret truth all on your own, with no help at all.” Isphet chuckled, and Seam shook with fear under the nightmare standing over him. “Yes, I can see your thoughts, Seam Panderean, your restless, biting thoughts. Despite your torment, you came to the right conclusion about us in the end.” Isphet’s eyes glowed like hot coals and he stooped down, a long black tongue slithering out from his ragged maw. “We are not gods. Your intuition proved quite right.” Isphet held up the Keys locked on his arm. “After all...what kind of gods are bound to objects such as these?” Isphet leaned in, whispering a secret as his flickering, fiery eyes bored into Seam. “But don’t be too harsh with our limitations, Seam. We are only the gods that you made us to be.”

  Seam’s face seized with dismay. “What did you say?”

  “We are only the gods you made us to be.” Isphet cocked his head playfully. “But on the other side I found someone more powerful than you could ever imagine. I have come to bring forth his will. Now, He and I are one. The others may not be gods, but I am.” Isphet stared down at Seam, a strong, clawed hand grabbing Seam’s face. “I couldn’t have done it without you. Thank you for your work. You’ve been most helpful.”

  Isphet stood, turning back to the broken Synod who still hung in the air. His eyes landed on Luken, who shuddered under his horrifying gaze. Isphet stepped inches from Luken’s pained face.

  “Ah. The traitor. I don’t know whether to thank you or destroy you for what you did to us.”

  Luken drew within inches of Isphet as Willyn cried out, charging toward the Isphet in a fit of rage. Isphet held out a hand and released a force of energy that blasted Willyn back, tumbling her across the floor toward one of the shattered glass walls. “Willyn Kara, you must learn your place. The adults are talking. Your turn is coming soon enough, child.”

  Willyn grasped at the shattered floor, stopping herself inches from the Spire’s ledge, nearly sliding out to her death. She scrambled from the edge in a panic, only to notice new movement in the room. Willyn’s jaw dropped as Kull stood from the floor. He examined his father’s crumpled, bloody body and then looked at his own hands; his blood-soaked hands. He’s aware. He’s...he’s... Kull still clutched the ebony sword that was used to kill his father.

  Kull Shepherd’s body shook with untold rage as he tried to understand, as he fought to piece together what happened while he was fighting to regain his mind and wield his own body again. His father was gone. He had been used as Seam’s weapon. Kull turned toward the communion of the gods and faced them, his presence not yet realized. The entire building trembled as Kull’s eyes lit with a blue fire and the Spire began to twist and sway with new energy.

  Isphet turned and stared at the bloodied boy, “Who is this?!”

  Kull stared at Isphet, unafraid and uninhibited. The Serub’s self-assured sneer wavered, cracking under the invisible electric energy that could be felt filling the room. It built like a dam under pressure, filling until it felt like the whole room would explode. Bastion, Abtren, and Nyx screamed out curses as they gazed at Kull. It was as if all the energy in the cosmos was boiling in that one room, bubbling over with light, heat, and terrifying energy centered on Kull.

  He opened his mouth and pulled out his mother’s pendant. There, threaded beside the rune of Aleph, was a key, glowing and crackling with a magnificent energy, as if it had been forged from a thousand lightning bolts.

  Kull’s voice filled the room like a thunderclap, “Don’t you know who I am, Ma’et? I am Kull Shepherd, servant of Aleph, the Most High. You saw me in the Sea of Souls, you snake. The days of the Serubs are coming to an end, for Aleph will no longer suffer your wanton destruction. The Serubs will not be used as your tools any longer!”

  Kull closed his eyes, letting go of all that sought to overwhelm him; memories of his father and his mother. I release them into your hands. The choice he made would be painful, but Aleph had made him a promise.

  “I am for you, Kull. I am with you.”

  Kull opened his eyes and stared at the Serubs who stood silently before him.

  Isphet took one step closer, his face full of rage. “Who are you to call me by that name?! I do not cower before Aleph! I do not cower before men, much less a boy. I am death, chaos, and rage! Who do you think you are?!”

  Kull opened his mouth as the words roared out of him, “I am the Keeper of the Keys!”

  BOOK III

  DOMINION’S END

  CHAPTER ONE

  “I am the Keeper of the Keys!”

  Kull’s words tore through the chaos of the Spire’s throne room, causing time to stand still. Grift Shepherd’s son stood tall in the lair of his enemy and dared to stare him down, unfrightened by the mystical Keys the demon held. Isphet’s eyes burned with fury at the sight of the gaunt boy who dared step forward, unwavering, covered in his father’s blood. Kull’s body was deathly pale and thin, but in those moments, it took on a new form, bright and terrifying, radiating with hot, pulsating energy. The brightness off Kull flooded the room, but no fear crept across Isphet’s face. The Serub stood unfazed, secure in the absolute authority that came from the Keys. He cocked his face and flashed a crooked sneer, showcasing a row of black, serrated teeth. He turned his attention to his cursed kin, who still hung, paralyzed in the air, slowly orbiting around him, as if to gauge an audience. Isphet held out his arms, brandishing the powerful relics that were locked on his wrist.

  “You?” Isphet stood and laughed, shaking his head. “No. You are quite wrong, boy. You see I AM THE KEEPER OF THE KEYS!” The god’s scream clapped like thunder. In one swift motion he spread out his hands, and the other Serubs hurtled outward from their orbit, smashing against the Spire walls, causing the entire structure to shift beneath their feet. “I am the mighty one. I am Candor’s new master and you...you will be the first to bow!”

  Kull searched the room for an answer. His words had been full of power, words that he realized were not his own. His mind was spinning as a dark shade of fear began to wedge into his mind. Only moments ago, he had been standing by Aleph’s side, observing the world fall apart before him from his divine viewpoint. Now he was back, pitted against the dreaded Old Ones. What can I do? His mind raced and his mouth went dry as Isphet began to walk toward him, his face set to kill. That was when Kull
’s eyes landed on the ruined body underneath him.

  Dad!

  Grift’s body was still warm, his hollow face staring blankly at Kull. His body was void of the flicker of life that had so long ago imprinted on his son. Kull’s mind erupted. He’s gone. Aleph above, he’s gone. He stumbled, barely catching himself, still holding the ebony blade that he had used to take his own father’s life.

  Isphet roared with glee, reading Kull’s faltering face. He could smell the fear coming from him and extended his hand out like an insane carnival barker. “Behold the orphan who murdered his own father! How does it feel, Kull Shepherd of Cotswold? The weight of what you’ve done?” The immortal’s voice lost its glee and grew dark. Whispers ripped through Kull’s mind like bullets. It’s like the Sea, isn’t it? Kull’s eyes grew wide as Isphet stepped closer with crimson fire burning in his eyes. It crushes in on you on all sides. It is the Darkness that will snuff you out.

  Kull dropped the sword, staring at his hands. They were covered in blood. His father’s blood.

  The siren whisper weaved in Kull’s mind, reassuring him. Don’t worry, young Shepherd. You’ll soon return from where you came.

  Kull grimaced as the words ricocheted in his brain, feeling them leach his strength away. Desperately, his mind screamed. Is this how I end!? I’ve come so far, don’t let this happen. Help me, Aleph. Help me! Kull felt a burning warmth swell against his chest with each step the cursed immortal took toward him. It felt as if his heart had caught fire. What is this? His fingers fumbled beneath his shirt, grasping around a small solid object that pulsed with a blinding white light. The Key. Aleph’s final gift had followed him from the other side. Kull stood motionless, transfixed in the object’s light, the tendrils of white fire lapping from the Key like waves. His mind struggled to comprehend the object when another whisper called within his mind.

  “Do not fear him. I am with you.”

  A scream erupted from the far side of the room as Isphet charged forward. In a flash, Isphet collided against Kull, pinning his shoulders to the cold slate floor. Kull felt his breath explode from beneath the weight of the hulking immortal, as his head slammed against the cold floor. Isphet drew back his fist and seemed to grow in size as he flicked his tongue between his long, serrated teeth. His red eyes fell on the white burning Key that hung from Kull’s neck.

  “What is this?” Isphet clamored for the glowing white object as a loud crack rang out, sending Isphet tumbling to the ground. The crack was followed by a rip of small explosions. Willyn quickly reloaded her pistol and held it toward Isphet’s chest. Isphet roared and turned toward Willyn as another figure dashed from his right. Luken slammed into Isphet, tackling him to the floor with such power that the two flew over Kull like twin meteors. Luken unloaded a blur of sickening punches on his enemy as they slid across the floor.

  Isphet grabbed one of Luken’s punches in his hand as if he had caught a bird in flight. Isphet’s free hand morphed into a monstrous dagger which he plunged into Luken’s chest with little ceremony, causing Luken to scream out in pain. Isphet then pushed back onto Luken’s caught fist, and in one fluid motion tossed Luken away from him as if he were nothing more than a child’s toy. Luken’s body collided against Seam’s throne. It crumpled to the ground with a sickening snap, as Luken’s limp body laid sprawled on the cold floor.

  “ENOUGH!” screamed Isphet as he stood to his feet. A black and blue aura swelled within his left palm, igniting with an unholy fire. Willyn ran toward Luken, while Kull stood to his feet. Isphet’s eyes locked on the white-hot Key laced around Kull’s neck, and his blood-red eyes widened. The Keys of Candor locked on Isphet’s wrist burned with such fury that the whole chamber filled with deep, red fire, transforming the throne room into a roaring crucible. Isphet stepped up into the air, ascending within the hellish chamber, his hands growing with an energy that swirled like a black, living abyss. The dark energy rushing from Isphet swelled, shaking the foundation of the Spire. Isphet glared down at Kull who stood alone, grasping the small Key that hung from his neck next to the rune of Aleph. Isphet growled, “You have something of mine, boy. Give it to me.”

  Kull stared at the hovering demon, unafraid of the crimson eyes that bore into him. “You want it, Isphet? Come and take it.” A white fire roared from the Kull’s Key, enveloping him again with a vibrant, radiant energy. The sound of a thousand thunderclaps descended in the room, and the windows of the pinnacle chamber blew out.

  Cyric stood at the edge of the desert canyon, unable to tear his eyes from the scene unfolding within his fixed scope of the Spire. The Grogans were tearing through the Dominion capital, unleashing a torrent of destruction in their wake, but their systemic destruction failed to hold the mercenary’s attention. It was the Spire. He had seen the black monolith quake without warning, only to feel another shockwave follow it. He licked his lips, forcing his eyes back on the structure, trying desperately to discern what was happening within. A white-hot flash erupted from spire’s pinnacle, and an explosion of lightning exploded out of the Spire’s upper-most windows. Cyric’s mouth opened wide, as the lightning hung in the sky like an enormous white firework, followed again by another rolling earthquake. The quake hit with such ferocity that it sent Cyric to his knees. He braced himself as a giant crevice tore through the earth directly below the Spire. A pillar of smoke and sand exploded from the epicenter, and Cyric stood transfixed, unable to look away.

  “Aleph above!” Cyric shook his head, his eyes wide with disbelief. This cannot be happening.

  A white-hot energy blew through the Spire’s pinnacle like a burning hurricane, scorching Willyn’s skin. She squinted to peer through the chaos, searching for Luken as the Spire shook under her feet. Pushing through her own pain she found him, broken on the floor, deeply wounded and unconscious. She pulled him onto her shoulders and dragged him away from the intensifying storm. She threw a quick glance back at the maelstrom. To her disbelief the lightning was springing from Kull, the arcs of energy streaming directly into Isphet. She raced out as fast as she could, clearing the room’s threshold, and fell into an open hallway. She caught sight of the small contingent of troops that had accompanied Bronson. Another thunderclap exploded and sent Willyn crashing to the floor, tripping over Luken’s large frame.

  “Help!” Willyn cried out. “Please, someone help me get him out!”

  Two of the soldiers stopped and turned to Willyn. Both looked quickly at her, but their faces froze with fear when they saw Luken. One of the two men shook his head and turned away, rushing after the rest of their retreating squad. The younger of the two nervously stepped forward and stooped to help Willyn, lifting Luken up from the ground. The soldier shouldered the bulk of Luken’s weight and nodded at the staircase to their left.

  “It’s a long way down…let’s go.”

  “Thank you.” Willyn said as she helped maneuver Luken through the door. Another thunderclap rang out and Isphet screamed from the throne room, shaking the Spire’s walls. A look of terror washed over the soldier’s face and he looked back at Luken.

  “Is he one of those things?”

  “He is not like the others!” Willyn shouted. “He saved my life, now I am saving his.”

  The soldier’s face paled, but he nodded. “Let’s get out of here before this place falls in on us.”

  Isphet staggered and stumbled to the floor after a large crack of lightning erupted from Kull. He sprang back to his feet and let out a blast of dark energy from his palms. The force of the attack buffeted Kull’s advance and forced him to shield himself. Isphet followed with more short bursts of energy as he slid to his left before pouncing for Kull.

  Kull’s white, glowing fist connected with Isphet’s jaw and sent him skidding across the throne room floor, his slide stopping just feet from the edge of a blown-out window. Shattered glass crunched beneath Isphet’s hands as he pushed himself back up to fight. He scanned the room, searching for his fallen brethren.

  Isphet’s eyes darted d
esperately from one corner of the room to the other. Gone! All of them gone! Cowards. He snarled with rage as all sources of potential energy had fled. Even the sniveling would-be king had found an escape in the chaos.

  “You have no blood or fear to feed off of here, you snake!” Kull shouted as he stepped forward. “Return the Keys!”

  Isphet charged forward and slammed into Kull’s chest with his shoulder. Upon contact, Isphet’s skin erupted with hot white flames, but he pressed forward, tackling Kull to the ground. In a deft display of grace, Isphet sprang through the air and dove feet first into Kull’s abdomen.

  The force buckled the floor and the two fell through the lower level’s ceiling, crashing against a cement floor which quaked beneath the blow and splintered into a spider web of cracks. Isphet jumped up for another strike, but Kull rolled to the side before he could connect again. Instead, Isphet thundered against the floor, rattling the entire building in the process. Kull charged forward and dove into Isphet, knocking him through a glass wall. He picked up the demon god and hurled him in the opposite direction, crashing him through several support pillars. The ceiling above buckled, sending a sea of broken glass and large slabs of concrete cascading down on them.

  “What do you think you can accomplish, Kull Shepherd?” Isphet wailed as he threw a flurry of punches against him. “You may have a Key, but you are no god! You will tire! You are nothing more than a mortal imitating a true deity.”