Keys of Candor: Trilogy

by Casey Eanes

  Kull nodded. “Many things have changed, Wael. We must talk, but you must rest. I worry we won’t have long.” Kull looked at Adley, his face grim. “Near the Sanctuary, I was spotted. I fear our enemies know where we are now.”

  “What?” Adley’s face twisted with confusion. “Taluum is a ghost town. Ever since the attack no one has stepped foot in the city but me. Who would have seen you?”

  Kull shook his head and looked at Wael. “The one person we are fighting.”

  “Seam?” Adley tilted her head to the side and furrowed her brow as she examined her thoughts. “But I thought...”

  “No, Adley. We aren’t fighting anything or anyone of this world anymore.” Kull clutched his chest as he felt the Key ignite against his skin. “I can’t explain now, but I swear to you I will.”

  “But we can’t go anywhere, not yet.” Adley kneeled beside Wael and checked his forehead. “Wael is in no condition to travel. How do you expect us to traipse through the woods with him like that? We can’t leave him.”

  Kull leaned over Wael and locked eyes with his mentor and friend, his face full of worry. “I don’t know, but we must move.”

  Wael let out a low chuckle, causing Adley and Kull’s faces to fill with confusion. Kull’s spirit lifted as Wael laughed despite it all, as the spark of hope and faith that he carried still burned bright on his face, despite his ruined body. “What is it, Wael?”

  Wael smiled, his face alight with joy. “Our time has come, Adley. We must follow Kull. I will be okay…” Wael grunted as he shifted on his cot. “I know it.”

  The monk rolled to his right and lowered his feet to the ground, forcing himself into a standing position. “My staff. Ugh, please.” Adley handed the monk his staff, and Wael teetered on the edges of his feet as Adley dashed to his side, catching his large frame on her shoulders as he fell to the side.

  A long streak of crimson broke out on the bandages covering Wael’s stomach. “He’s bleeding out!” Adley cried as she pushed her hand against the bandages surrounding his stomach. “He’s opened the wound again. Get him on the cot, Kull. Hurry, help me!”

  Kull began to assist him, but Wael’s strong grip forced Kull to give him his undivided attention. The Mastermonk whispered, “You have not come alone, Kull Shepherd. You carry something with you...or rather someone. He…he can heal me.”

  Kull’s eyes grew wide as Adley screamed, “We have no time to talk! Help me, Kull!” Adley rushed about the small room in a frenzy to gather new bandages as a cool breeze swept in from the outside. Kull’s body shook as the warmth of the Key around his neck increased, its power growing with a noticeable swell. Without a word, Kull reached down for the hidden Key, drawing it from under his shirt. It was glowing again with its bright white electric light. Kull moved to Wael’s side, pulling back the crimson bandages packed over the deep, jagged wound. He put the bright Key on the wound, covering his hand over it.

  “What are you doing, Kull?” Adley yelled from the opposite corner of the room, jolting back in his direction.

  A searing flash of light filled the room. Kull’s eyes were blinded from the flash, but as his vision returned he could see that Wael was standing before him, strong and unhindered. A deep, heavy scar streaked across his abdomen where his wound had hung open just moments before. Adley scrambled over, her eyes wide, as she dropped her medical supplies all around her.

  “I...I don’t understand,” Adley stammered. “You, you aren’t bleeding anymore!” Her eyes were like saucers as her hands darted to examine Wael’s stomach, looking for the wound she had worked for so long to heal.

  Wael smiled, allowing his own hand to rest on the place that had caused him so much pain. Rot, unable to stand it, rushed to his side, panting and nuzzling his leg. “Behold, the hand of Aleph.”

  Kull was silent. There were no words. Wael stood before him, looking a decade younger, and he forced himself to sit down on the cot. The Mastermonk’s heavy hand fell on his shoulder.

  The Mastermonk stared at Kull, his eyes full of wonder and knowledge. “Aleph has not sent Kull to Candor unprepared. We must move…we are not safe here. Kull was right…I have felt a dark presence lingering near here for some time... searching.” Kull grabbed Wael’s arm and led him out of the hovel.

  “Unbelievable,” Adley muttered as she followed the two from the hut. She walked in a world that felt like a dream. “Kull, we have no transport here. I have searched, but there is nothing salvageable in Taluum. We are going to have to walk out. I just don’t know if...” Adley cut herself short, shaking her head. A tear ran down her face as she stepped back and lifted her rifle, her eyes cutting in hard on Kull. “What is happening, Kull? Who are you, exactly? What are you?”

  Kull lifted his hands and took a step back from Wael. “It’s me, Adley, I swear to you. It is me.”

  She pulled the weapon up, setting her sights on Kull, her eyes wide with fear and anger. “What are you!? No more games from Seam!” Adley growled from behind the sights of her gun. Her voice cracked. “Kull Shepherd died in the Spire. Seam killed him! You...you are impossible! You reappear, then suddenly heal Wael with a touch! I’ve seen enough. What are you? ANSWER ME!”

  Adley’s finger slid over the trigger and she narrowed her sight down the barrel, refusing to let Kull out of her sight. Rot, in turn, began to growl. Kull, shocked at the swing, took another step to the side and raised his hands over his head. Wael stared out at the woods, silent.

  “Adley, it is me. Put the gun down. I can explain everything, but we need to move. I’ll explain everything as we go.”

  “No.” Adley’s voice was firm. “Answer me now. What are you? Who are you?”

  A loud slanted voice echoed across the woods. “Yes, please, Kull. Please answer the girl’s question. I’ve got several important people who would like to know the same thing.”

  The man’s voice interrupted the tension, forcing Kull and Adley to both turn on their heels. Cyric stepped out from the edge of the forest, his hand open with a glowing orange orb hovering over his palm. He was holding a charging Predecessor glove. Cyric flashed a wry smile. Rot roared as his hackles arched.

  “Call off the dog, monk, if you want that beast to live another day.” Cyric held out the orb which hovered from his palm like fire, its orange light reflecting in his eyes. “Now, I hate to interrupt reunions with old friends, Aleph knows, but I think you need to explain yourself now, Kull...to all of us.”

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Seam stood over a slew of dead Rihtian warriors, his mind full of rage, the taste of blood filling his mouth. When will these games stop, Dyrn? Seam’s captivity and restoration came at a high price. He stared at his left arm, filled with awe at Dyrn’s skills. By all appearances his arm looked normal, but Seam knew better. With a flicker of thought his arm could shift its form into some new weapon of destruction. The sight was incredible. An overlay of large gray pentagons would vibrate from his arm, whirling into new forms with the rotation of his thoughts. His mind was now a weapon.

  A voice vibrated from the speakers hung in the stark white arena. “ANOTHER ROUND, SEAM. YOU ARE STILL TOO CLUMSY.”

  Seam scowled and shook his thoughts into focus. How many days have I been here? Seam couldn’t be sure, but he was a long way from how Dyrn had found him. He was broken no more. The sound of the gates echoed in the chamber. They are coming. Seam glanced down to see the bodies piled around him. Who are they...why is he doing this to me?

  As the gates opened, Seam felt his heart slam against his chest. Stepping into the chamber was a face he knew very well. Kaleidoscopic eyes met his, irises surrounded with a violent purple and amber fury. Abtren stepped closer, crooning, “Oh, I am going to enjoy this.”

  She rushed toward him, her face morphing into that of a wolf, the same horrific face he witnessed in his own chambers so long ago in Lotte. Seam had only seconds to think, his mind racing for a solution.

  Abtren pounced, her fingers bearing their razor tips, her eyes dark,
hollow crimson pools. The thought came to him in a millisecond. His left arm morphed into a solid gray spear that extended from his body. In a flash he held it above him. Abtren slammed into the lance, roaring with pain, the blade penetrating her torso. She slowly descended toward him, but he was not finished. A shiver of sound filled the room, followed by the boom of a lightning strike as a massive electric current roared through Seam’s arm into Abtren’s body.

  Abtren screamed, her body going limp under the fury of Seam’s attack. He held the current through her as the smell of burning flesh poured through the room. Finally, he quit, dropping her charred corpse on the pristine white floor.

  He sighed, and the spear morphed back into the shape of his left hand, sliding free from her gut. He stared at Abtren’s form below his feet, his mind filling with questions. “Is this all you have for me, Dyrn?” he called out, his patience wearing then.

  Abtren’s body jolted back up with life, her eyes snapping open with new vigor. “Oh, Seam. I am just beginning. Now die.”

  Seam felt Abtren’s razor claws slide across his throat, releasing his head from his body. It was a peculiar sensation to see his own decapitated body fall away from his point of view. Darkness swarmed over him.

  The darkness rushed away in a flash of violent light. Dyrn’s cold hands scraped over Seam’s face, removing the claustrophobic helmet that covered his face. Seam blinked furiously, trying to shake out the sight of his own death by Abtren. Where am I?! He swallowed, forcing himself to focus, realizing that he was hanging in the middle of a perfectly spherical room, his back connected into something that he could not see. Dyrn worked silently in front of him without the garb of the desert witch cult. Seam was relieved not to look at Dyrn through the gaze of the horrible skull mask. Dyrn busied himself on the equipment that enveloped Seam, his gaze focused like a surgeon’s, closed and unsympathetic in his cruel precision. Seam dared to look at him, his mouth going dry as he stole brief glimpses of the cybernetic patterns that rolled through his captor’s face like a twisted pattern from a nightmare.

  Dyrn’s crimson eyes locked on his. “You must do better, Hunter. I will not release you until you show me that you are ready. That was only one Serub...and there are three that you must hunt down.”

  “Three? I thought there were five. And what about Isphet?”

  Dyrn’s face flashed with rage at the mention of the self-proclaimed Lord of Chaos. “Isphet cannot be stopped unless you quell his kin. As for your first question, you are quickly running out of time. Isphet is consuming his kin faster than you can prepare. The more power he ingests, the harder the conflict you will face.” Dyrn’s fingers pulled down a keyboard from something that looked like an ancient datalink. Runes flashed across the screen, and Seam’s mind exploded with a realization.

  “You...you are a Predecessor.” Dyrn snapped his head back with a vengeful scowl. Still Seam dared to press on. “That is what you are, isn’t it?”

  “Your lack of insight does not bolster my confidence in your ability to handle the task before you, Hunter.” A surge of violent electricity roared through Seam’s body with unrelenting fury. Dyrn stared at Seam without empathy, as a farmer would stare at a hog picked for slaughter. The fallen young king writhed in agony. “The word your foolish people use is not accurate, but yes, you are correct. I am a Benefactor, Seam, and I have seen generations of my foolish descendants cast off their birthright only to evaporate with the vapor of time.”

  Seam gasped for breath, his mind flying with questions. “You’re immortal?”

  “Yes, but again your perspective is slanted. To a fly an elephant is no different than a mountain. My kin and I are not without limits, Seam Panderean, but our scope—our existence—is on another plane than those who inhabit Candor now.”

  “So, there are others like you? There are more?” The question brought its own realization stemming from Seam’s experience of reliving Hosp’s memories. Yes, there had been more than one desert witch at that bloody dark rite. There had been four more...

  Aleph. Seam couldn’t help but invoke the Divine’s name in his mind.

  Seam stared at Dyrn, daring to ask the question that had haunted him since Isphet left him a broken man in the Spire’s pinnacle.

  We are only the gods you made us to be. Isphet’s words burned in his mind like a raging fire.

  “Tell me the truth, Dyrn. Tell me what the Serubs are. I know you know the truth. Now tell me!”

  Dyrn turned slowly and leveled his gaze on Seam, making no attempt to hide his disdain. “They were our finest creation. Until now...until you. Now don’t waste my efforts. It is time to train, Hunter.”

  Dyrn slammed the visor back down over Seam’s eyes and his consciousness was dropped into Elum, his feet just inches from the cliffs overlooking the Endless Ocean. Seam stepped forward and peered over the edge, observing the titanic waves crashing against the craggy shore below. Gulls called out in the distance, their squawks ringing out over the roar of the waves beneath him. The scene was magnificent, but Seam felt a shift as the seabirds stopped their cries.

  It was as if Elum fell silent, and even the waves made no sound as they collided with the sea wall below. A black figure rocketed up from the depths of the sea, landing behind Seam. He spun on his heels, finding Nyx stalking him from behind. Her black, soaked hair hung around her face, obscuring her midnight eyes, her irises like deep pits. She stared at her prey and flashed a cruel smile.

  “Ah, master Seam,” she cooed. “I think I may enjoy this more than you.” Nyx ran forward, slamming her fists against him as Seam’s arm shifted into a makeshift shield. Seam pulled back, his brain throttled, and he threw a solid blow against Nyx’s face, releasing a sick cracking noise as she buckled to one knee. She licked the trickle of black blood running from her lip and smiled as she lunged for Seam’s knees, pulling him to the ground.

  She pulled herself over him, pinning his right arm against his side. Nyx’s smile grew as she bore her fangs and bit into Seam’s arm as he shielded his face. Seam remembered his new-found abilities and quickly shifted his arm into a blade, punching it into Nyx’s belly with furious repetition until she rolled away from him, scurrying to the edge of the cliff. She grinned again, bearing her teeth as she cowered over the ledge.

  “You are the weakest of your kin, Nyx,” Seam sneered as he pushed forward. “You are nothing without the others or your hive to hide behind.”

  Seam stepped forward, ready to finish the fight as Nyx’s eyes began to shimmer like a disturbed pool of black water. Her smile grew as shrieking filled the air. A furious stampede echoed up from the cliff and from the distant forest to Seam’s left. “Who said I was alone, Seam?”

  A wave of bodies rose up from the cliff, like the ocean crashing against the rocks below. Morels in overwhelming number caved in over Seam. They pushed in from all sides, the undead rising from the sea as well as sprinting in from the woods. Razor-sharp claws slashed and teeth snapped at him, and his heart quickened as he tried to escape the furious assault. His new arm was no use against so many. As soon as he cut away one morel it was replaced by two more. The onslaught was unbearable as the morels ripped at Seam’s flesh and bit unmercifully into his arms and legs.

  Seam was waiting for the simulation to end when he felt a twinge of familiarity in his mind, a dull spark emerging from the shadows of his foggy memory. Seam closed his mind and pulled in a deep breath before pushing his mind out and pulling in the consciousness of those around him. At first, he could hear what they heard, then he could smell for the hive. Next came their vision, a kaleidoscope of perspectives. Finally, he could experience the sensation of their bodies, a swirling sensation of thousands of bodies, each with its own touch and feel.

  “Stop.” The words were soft but carried the power to cease the attack. The swarm of bodies pulled back and Seam stood to his feet, turning to find Nyx kneeling a few meters away. Seam reveled in the sensation, having forgotten the power of controlling the collective, but this
time was different. His grip on them was clearer and more precise. Where before the control took effort and strain with the Keys, this new connection was effortless and natural.

  Seam sneered and stepped through the mass. With each step the morels parted, obeying their new master’s command. He examined Nyx’s face, finding it a terrific mixture of confusion and panic.

  “Confused, Nyx? It appears my grasp on them is stronger than your own.” Seam looked at the army that continued to amass around him as he stepped closer.

  “Goodbye, Nyx.”

  The morels crashed over Nyx as Seam stepped away, enjoying the sensation of the hundreds of morels descending upon his enemy’s flesh. One after another they joined in the mauling, piling over her, muffling her screams with their intense shrieks.

  “Finish her, you fool.” The voice reverberated in Seam’s skull. He turned in a circle, searching for the voice and then examined the vision of his morel army, but there was no one to be seen. “I said finish her, Hunter!”

  Dyrn. Seam nodded, forcing himself to remember again where he was. A simulation. A game. He stepped forward, shifting his arm into a large blade, and with little ceremony he drove down on Nyx’s lifeless form, rending her in two.

  Seam’s vision went black and the sensation of control evaporated as Dyrn lifted the helmet from his head once again. The witch’s face was stone cold, but he offered a slight nod.

  “That was a better effort, but you must improve. I may need to make some more modifications. You are still too slow and unnatural with your new abilities. It is as if you don’t realize the integration of your power. It should flow naturally.”

  As Dyrn turned, Seam could still feel something, an itch in the deep recesses of his mind. It was hard to describe, but Seam could feel another door within the depths of his subconscious. It was as if after awakening a forgotten ability, his subconscious was calling out for him to continue the practice: There is more here, it said to him. Use these enhancements for yourself. Against your enemy.