Keys of Candor: Trilogy

by Casey Eanes

  Seam stopped mere inches from the obsidian tower and lifted his mechanized hand, placing it flat against the stone. The lightning overhead crashed to a halt with one final, monstrous explosion as the electricity flew into Seam’s arm, covering his entire body. However, there was no shock, no pain, only the feeling of power and a pure sense of purpose.

  “Unleash me! You know what you must do.” The voice echoed over the dunes, sending a shockwave with it as it reverberated.

  “Kull. Willyn. Did you hear that?” Adley called out over her datalink. She leaned over the dash of Ewing’s truck as they brought up the rear of the formation that had crawled toward the northern wastelands of Riht.

  “Affirmative,” Willyn called back. “Just shook the whole ground. Even felt turbulence in the rook.”

  “I’m about done with devils and undead. Can someone tell me what’s going on?” Cyric’s voice interrupted.

  “It’s the end,” Kull answered back. “We have to get ready. Ewing, I’m coming to you. Adley, work with Willyn to coordinate the men and women we have left. Cyric, we need your help on the ground with whatever pred tech you have.”

  Adley scanned the rooks hovering near the front line and found Kull climbing from the cockpit of Willyn’s rook. He paused to call something back to Willyn and bowed his head before turning and running back toward Ewing’s old logging truck.

  “What’s happening, Ewing?” Adley asked softly as she scanned the darkening horizon.

  Ewing took Adley’s hand in his large, weathered palm and squeezed. “I don’t know, dear, but we are here for a reason.” He leaned over his dash and squinted as he scanned the sky. “At least I hope so.”

  Seam inched closer to the illuminated runes and his mind clicked into place. He was able to read each etching. Names, millions of names covered the black, reflective face of the tower—each glowing with a dim flicker of electricity against the black facade. A broken collection of mirror shards was interspersed between the ancient runes, and to Seam it looked as if they were vibrating.

  I have seen this before. Memories of a pungent darkness overwhelmed him, bringing back the dark memories of Vashti in the temple of Lotte’s Crossroads. The walls of that place had vibrated too, moving like snakeskin in the dark.

  He flung the memory from his mind, focusing for the final task at hand. There was no incantation or inscription to be found. There were no instructions except for the rune names, but Seam could feel exactly what must happen next. He turned and looked past the blank stares of the morel swarm and called out to the people beyond.

  “Men and women of Candor. Do not fear. For you are about to witness your salvation! The end of this madness is at hand.”

  Seam turned in a flash and drove his hand deep into the solid surface of the obelisk, but as his knuckles made contact the obsidian gave way, shimmering like water. The mirror shards reacted to the contact with Seam’s Keys, shooting through the obelisk as if they were water. The pieces of reflective glass fused and the entire face of the tower undulated and vibrated with increasing intensity. Seam blinked as he stood staring at a mirrored reflection of himself until a wall of deep, black water rushed out from the mirrored portal. The dark water released in a deluge over Seam, flooding out into the desert and through the morel army. As the water broke free, the morels fell prostrate, burying themselves beneath the crashing black waters.

  A rumbling, vicious laugh echoed from the obelisk and grew like a mad thunderclap. Seam took two steps back as dark, titanic coils of black water unraveled from the open spring of evil. Soon the towering presence ripped through the mirrored veil and rose high above even the obelisk. The mass of waters swelled and drew in and out before tightening into the shape of a sixty-foot leviathan.

  “Prophetic words from the mouth of a fool! The end is at hand.” Ma’et’s form continued to swell and grow as the floodwaters pushed out and rose to the shins of the Lottian army two hundred yards back from the spectacle. Ma’et lowered his face and came within a foot of Seam, bearing his fangs.

  “You have served your purpose...essence. Now serve your master.”

  Seam clasped at his temples as pain exploded throughout his body. The agony was exponentially greater than any pain Dyrn or even Isphet had offered. It was as if Seam could feel each cell in his body separating from the other. An inexplicable popping coursed through Seam’s veins as he fell to his knees screaming, pulling at his hair.

  “What good are your Keys now? You wanted your destiny, Keeper. Now accept it. You brought the order and power you so badly sought to this pitiful world. My order and my power. You have fulfilled your purpose!”

  Seam crumpled to the ground, writhing in pain. He tried to rip the bracer free from his wrist as it burned like a hot iron against his skin. He gasped for breath as he shook violently on the ground, trying to avert his eyes from Ma’et’s vicious gaze.

  Seam turned his face and peered out over the faces of the men and women of Candor as they turned in terror to run. “I’m...sorry,” Seam muttered as everything broke free from within. Long, crimson streaks of dark blood poured from his eyes as his essence was ripped from his body and plunged into Ma’et’s oblivion.

  “Fall back and regroup!” Willyn called out over her datalink. “There is nowhere to run. This is it! This is our last stand. Let’s stand together!”

  Men and women from every Realm continued to stream through the Grogan ranks, fleeing from Ma’et as he continued to emerge from the dark waters, long coils of black liquid becoming reptilian flesh. Soon the giant behemoth towered over the armies below him. Willyn screamed through her coms, “Run if you must, but I will stand for Candor and every Realm in it today! A good day to die!”

  Willyn flipped her visor down and readied her hands on the rook’s controls when another voice called back. “I stand for Candor and all in it!” Adley’s voice rang out.

  “I stand for Candor and all in it!” yelled out Ewing.

  Soon a chorus of voices called back, steadying Willyn as she opened a universal line. “We don’t know what we have here, but don’t get too clustered. Work in a spread formation!” She glanced over the hovering map that blurred in the chaos. Her eyes tracked the squadron of jets flying in from the coast. “Elum, light up the sky. We need your full payload once you get an open line of sight.”

  Willyn looked over the black waters and her skin went cold as the morel army rose from its cascading waters and turned their eyes on the people of Candor. The water seemed to exaggerate their features as if it was feeding them.

  Kull knocked on the passenger side of Ewing’s truck and Adley opened the door and leapt out. Ewing climbed down and scurried around to meet Kull. “Things ain’t lookin’ too good, boy.”

  Kull stared at his friend gravely. “I need your truck, Ewing.” Kull’s eyes were firm, but his voice wavered. “I know what I have to do.”

  “No,” Adley gasped. “You two already ran off on a suicide mission once before. I can’t...I won’t lose you again.”

  Kull’s face fell and he looked down at Adley’s feet for a moment before looking back up to her and shaking his head. “This time I won’t lie to you, Adley.”

  Kull leaned in and gently kissed her lips before stepping back and drawing in a deep breath. “I know I’m not coming back this time.” Kull looked over to Ewing. “Watch after Ewing and Rot for me.”

  “No, sir.” Ewing pressed forward and laid a heavy hand on Kull’s shoulder. Ewing’s grip shocked Kull with the realization of how strong the old soldier still was. “This old man is here to fight.”

  “Ewing, no—” Kull started.

  “No!” Ewing’s face trembled as he held back tears. “I am here to serve the crown. Even now, when there is no one to bear it. Don’t take this from me. I didn’t mind givin’ my leg. It’s not all I have to give.”

  Rot whined and offered a bark, pressing at Kull’s leg. Kull rubbed his ears and shook his head. “Fine. Ride with me, Ewing.” Kull looked down at the panting bea
st staring at them lovingly from his one good eye. “You, Rot…you stay by Adley’s side. Don’t leave her, ever.”

  Adley threw up her hands. “Kull, this is madness! Don’t make the same mistake as Seam. You can’t—”

  “I know.” Kull nodded. “But this isn’t about me. I have a part to play in this. You have a part, too, Adley. I can feel it.”

  “I know.” Adley nodded, acknowledging something that was long unspoken in her mind. “Lotte needs me. I just wish...” Adley wiped a tear from her eye and pulled Kull in, hugging him tight. “Please come back.”

  Kull held his arms around Adley, trying to mark the moment in his mind, remembering her warmth, her strength and goodness. He didn’t want to let go, but Ewing laid a hand on his shoulder, breaking him free from the moment.

  “Come on, son. Willyn’s got the army moving.”

  Quickly and without thinking, Kull grabbed Ewing’s datalink. “Willyn and Cyric. I need you to help me.”

  Darkness. The essence once known as Seam Panderean was surrounded by impenetrable darkness from all sides. He could not make out where he began and where the midnight ended. It was as if there were no limits, no borders, nothing to separate him from the dark water that held him in an immovable stasis. He was part of the void, and he was terrified.

  “Where am I? Who am I? What is this place?!!”

  Willyn’s rook raged as she pushed the throttle. She ground her teeth as the phalanx of her elite troopers surrounded her.

  The hoard of morels stood in defiance, thousands of the undead against the small band of Candor’s army now set to face them on the desert battlefield. Willyn grimaced as she set her goggles on her enemies. The shambling stood knee deep in the dark ocean that rolled out from the serpent. The cursed undead radiated with unholy strength.

  Willyn bore her voice down on the coms. “I want every rook to push their power cores to the exoskeleton.”

  The Grogan elite screamed as their crafts ejected a hidden coating of barbed electric quills from beneath their vehicles’ armor. Over the din of the rook’s engines the hum of the charge could be heard.

  “Spread wide and test the perimeter of their formation. Run them into dust and take out as many as you can. Scramble! Go now! For Candor!”

  “FOR CANDOR!” The soldiers screamed with such a fury that Willyn thought her right ear would be deaf from the overload of her helmet communicator. With that, the rooks roared with life, separating from one another like a dandelion puff. They unloaded their weapons as they plunged deep into the walls of the undead rushing toward them.

  Willyn was the first to make contact, her rook charging through a wall of twenty-fold, the bodies of the morels flying like electrocuted rag dolls. Willyn circled around them, retreating to survey the damage she had rendered as the hoard scrambled across the desert plains. She called out to her onboard computer, “Isolate the targets. Identify casualties.” All those Willyn had hit with either her guns or with the electric quills were highlighted red, but Willyn bit her lip as the bodies of the undead got back up and resumed their charge.

  “Targets are still viable and mobile,” the robotic voice spoke.

  “Damn,” Willyn whispered. She hit the throttle and pulled her rook back, calling over the coms. “Elites! Back to me. Circle around and shore up in the dagger formation.” She scanned the map of her men, and she saw them quickly obey the command as their crafts broke away from the fray. Soon they were at her flanks, joining her in a wedge of dark black rooks.

  Willyn halted the charge against the morels, several clicks out from the obelisk. She shuddered at the sight of the gruesome being that coiled itself around the ancient structure. The beast was as thick as a titan, and Willyn could not bear to look at the glowing, yellow eyes that shone as bright as dawn on the horizon.

  Help me, Hagan. Help me, Aleph. She stared out at the tsunami of morels that kept coming, the tide of black water licking at their heels. Her hands flew, switching over the coms as her eyes glanced at the Elumite jets screaming in.

  “Cyric! Kull! We have only one chance at this. It’s going to take everything we’ve got. Coordinate your positions and targets.” Red circles and icons ripped ahead of the black “v” formation of the Grogans. “We have to keep this tight and clean. We are going in two minutes. Kull, are you ready?”

  Kull stepped into the back of Ewing’s truck and took in a deep breath. Ahead of him, the black serpent stretched across the sky, its watery form becoming more solid with each passing second. Below the beast were the thousands who were without essences, cursed into the dark service of this reigning nightmare. Kull slammed his hand on the truck’s roof and yelled, “Go, Ewing! Go!”

  Ewing obeyed, the tires ripping up the sand and gravel underneath them. Kull could smell the sweet smoke of Ewing’s freshly lit pipe roll out of the windows as the truck charged to whatever fate awaited them. “Let’s go, boy! Let’s give them hell!”

  Kull braced himself in the truck bed, as the wind of the desert whipped around him. Flanking his position came the roaring rooks of Willyn’s elite, with the Sar herself taking point. Kull’s ears went deaf with the sounds of their machine guns ripping into the walls of morels who opposed them. The Grogan artillery thundered through the ground, sending the bodies of the shambling splaying in the chaos.

  Kull’s eyes went wide with fear. The Grogans could only keep the distance between them and the horde a mere fifteen meters from his transport.

  It’s not going to be enough. It won’t be enough.

  Ewing slammed the truck and screamed through his clenched pipe over the coms, “Cyric! Adley! Make a path for us!”

  A silence seemed to rush in after Ewing’s command, and Kull saw the Grogan rooks pull back as quickly as they had come in. Kull felt the world slow down to the crawl, and he took in one solitary breath.

  Cyric ran ahead of the artillery truck that Adley had rigged with his pred tech. Both of Cyric’s fists glowed with a light that shifted from blue to green and back again. Cyric masterfully wielded the gauntlets, unleashing rapid blasts at the morel swarm pressing in toward Adley’s perch. Adley dialed in the cannon that had been hastily bolted to the bed of the truck and tested the cables running into the control console.

  One of the wires running to the generator was loose and threatened to jump from its connection with every jolt of the truck as it lurched forward, sticking close to Cyric’s heels. Adley cursed beneath her breath and secured the cord while praying she wouldn’t be electrocuted in the process. The truck took a hard dip and Adley fell forward, slamming against the console, but she held her grip fast and felt the power cord snap into place with the impact. Adley slinked back and exhaled, thanking Aleph as she dialed in the final commands, readying for her next shot.

  Morels swiped and snapped their jaws from every direction, trying to advance on Cyric as he doled out a fury of punishment. A smile crept across Cyric’s face as his assault either disintegrated morels completely or ripped their limbs from their socket as they lunged and swiped at him. “Come and get what you deserve!” Cyric screamed. “I’ll kill every last one of you pieces of—” Cyric paused for a split second as a miniscule morel leapt to the front of the pack and leveled its gaze on him. What had once clearly been a little girl was now a bloodthirsty morel, fangs bared and claws extended.

  “No...” Cyric slowed his pace and stopped as the artillery truck ground to a halt behind him. “...Livvy,” Cyric muttered as a tear rolled down his cheek.

  “Again. Strike again.”

  Kull turned as the world stood frozen in its place. To his amazement there was Grift, standing in the truck bed next to him. He was clad in his Guardsman uniform and his eyes were bright, full of life. Kull’s mouth fell open, aghast as his father embraced him. “I am so proud of you, son.”

  “We are all proud of you, Kull.” That voice.

  Chills overwhelmed him.

  Wael.

  There was Wael, somehow now even more than he ever was. The Mas
termonk stood like a giant, both similar and strangely different from the man he once knew. The heavy hand on his shoulder confirmed his beloved mentor’s presence. Kull opened his mouth, searching for words as tears rolled uncontrollably from his eyes, but he was cut short by the crisp blue eyes of his mother.

  “Don’t be afraid, Kull. We are all with you now.”

  “We’ve been with you this whole time,” Grift whispered.

  No matter how hard he tried Kull could not find the words, and his face bounced helplessly between the three people who stood in an indescribable fullness of life. His mouth went dry as he realized that another figure had joined them. The inhuman form of the maned beast lumbered behind his parents and the Mastermonk. Its face was frightening, but it did not communicate harm. Kull remembered it as one of the three from Mir.

  Wael stared deeply into Kull’s eyes. “Yes. He has sent us, and so here we are. We will be with you for what comes next, Kull. Go now. What will happen is like the labor pains of new life. It will feel like…”

  “Death,” Kull whispered, the words escaping his tongue unwillingly. “It will feel like death, but it is life. From death comes life.”

  The three figures nodded, their presences erupting with a terrifying green and yellow light. “Go now, Kull. We will guide you to the gate.”

  An explosion ripped through the sky and fell with a tell-tale sign of pred tech; green walls of fire roared through the desert, eviscerating a narrow and scorched path through the morel hoard. Kull blinked, and the world fell back into motion as the green wall of fire roared toward them.

  Ewing swerved, but there was no choice. The morels surrounded them and threatened to swallow them into a vortex of claws and bloodthirsty screams. The wall of green fire roared toward them, and Ewing held the truck steady, his pipe falling out of his mouth. He could hear Willyn screaming over the coms.