Keys of Candor: Trilogy

by Casey Eanes

  A gasp went up from the crowd and everyone surged forward for a better look as people cried out from the crowd.

  “I can’t believe it!”

  “It’s working!”

  “Praise Aleph! Praise him!”

  Willyn worked her way to the front of the crowd as the noise reached a fever pitch as men and women shouted with joy and fumbled against one another for a better look. Despite the noise, Kull and Zerah remained silent and still in the center of the crowd. Zerah had even relaxed as if he joined Kull in his meditative state.

  Kull muttered an inaudible prayer and opened his eyes. Zerah’s eyes flitted open and he looked down at his hand and shrieked with joy, throwing his fist into the air. His hand, once intertwined with serrated blades, was once again whole and free from Nyx’s deformities. Kull quietly slipped the metal resting in his palm into a satchel hanging by his side.

  “Please! Heal my baby next! Please!” a woman cried out.

  “No, mine!” shouted a man.

  Willyn stepped beside Kull and lifted her hands into the air. “Quiet, everyone!”

  The crowd quieted a bit and Willyn rested a hand on Kull’s shoulder. She offered him a nod and turned back to the crowd. “Mastermonk Shepherd will be here for a week. We will all celebrate and spend time with all of the local families that need him. Let us not fight and squander this moment. We have all witnessed marvelous things in our lifetime and we will all see more in due time.”

  The crowd quieted further and Willyn moved to a nearby platform that was slightly elevated from the crowd. “We have all suffered. We have all seen terrible losses. Many were spared by Aleph a year ago and were taken home following their release from the beast’s sea. But for those that returned, I understand the scars that remain.” Willyn slid the elbow-length glove from her arm and held the metallic prosthetic in the air. “I, too, have lost, and I will never forget the pain we went through. Though many will be healed, we will never forget. We cannot repeat this history; we must move forward. This is our chance to not only heal our broken bodies, but we will continue, with Aleph’s blessing, to heal our land as well.”

  The crowd erupted into a chorus of cheers and the people shouted “Kara” as they pumped their fists into the air. Willyn raised her hands high and motioned for silence. “Please, everyone, I know the excitement the Mastermonk brings, but I ask that you please allow him to join me for a few moments in private. We have much to discuss, but don’t worry. He will soon make his rounds as we all celebrate together.”

  The crowd let out a cheer and the mass of bodies slowly dispersed with many children running up and hugging Kull’s leg or reaching in to pet Rot one last time before running back down the street to their homes.

  Willyn nodded to the side and beckoned Kull to follow her to the town center. Kull flipped his hood back over his head and let out a quick whistle for Rot, who popped up and followed close at Kull’s hip. The three walked into the town center and moved to a small staircase leading to a quaint private chamber on the structure’s roof.

  “Willyn,” Kull said quietly as they stepped into the small room. “I have something for you. Some news.”

  Willyn turned and nodded. “What news? Is there a threat?”

  “No, not a threat. Just a friend,” said a voice.

  Willyn’s jaw dropped, and her body shook uncontrollably. Standing next to Kull under a hooded cowl, Willyn saw gray piercing eyes.

  “Luken,” Willyn whispered, not believing what she was seeing.

  He surrounded her with a strong embrace and kissed her without reservation.

  Kull laughed deeply, unable to contain his smile as Rot jumped and barked in celebration, “I found him deep in a cave, along the shores of Elum. He had buried himself to try and shield the others from finding him and using him.”

  “But you’re okay!? You’re okay?!” Willyn screamed with joy and asked Luken all at the same time.

  “Yes, Willyn,” he said, staring deep into her blue eyes. “I’m okay. We’re okay.”

  On the third day of the Wellspring celebration Kull and Rot woke up just as the sun began to crest across the desert dunes outside Wellspring. The air still held a firm chill, but Kull could feel the darkness rolling back as the burning dawn approached. Soon they would all feel the desert heat, so he was careful to soak in the nip in the air. The man and beast strolled silently. The dog had gained no titles from all that had transpired, but this was not true for the man. The man was now called “Mastermonk” and “Healer,” just two of the heaviest titles that were bestowed upon him after somehow surviving the battle for Wellspring. Some referred to him as “Shepherson,” a tribute to his late father, Grift.

  Kull picked up some sand chilled from the night air and rubbed the granules between his thumb and fingers. The heat of his hand warmed the sand as he searched for clarity, slowly strolling to a singular spot beneath the shadow of the crumbled obelisk.

  “They want so desperately to hold me up high,” he whispered, not knowing if he was talking to himself or the dog. “To set me apart.” He wondered silently if this was for the people’s comfort or for his. “I’ve tried to tell them, Rot...I’m no different from them. All of us have the ability to commune with Aleph...to soul stretch, to heal, to know the deep truths.” Rot panted agreeably, his marred face appearing solemn in the fading darkness.

  Kull glanced up as they rounded the obelisk’s base. His eyes brimmed uncontrollably at the small marker erected near the base of the obelisk’s foundation. The words were small, etched in the stone with resolute, unflourished command. These were the marks of a soldier’s grave.

  Arthur Ewing. Colonel – Guardsmen of Lotte.

  Long live King Camden.

  Kull leaned down and placed his hand on top of the humble marker, his eyes growing distant in the dim light. His mind wandered to the simple times before Cotswold was bombed. When he, his mother, and father would gather in Ewing’s general store and tell tales by the woodstove, sharing the humble harvest of freshly picked vegetables or roasted wild rabbit. All of these memories collected in his mind, and Kull missed the smell of the old man’s pipe and the sound of his voice rolling like rambling brook, too proud to ever be held back. He was a good man; simple, proud, but good.

  Kull reached into his pouch to pull out a small hewn pipe and filled it with the dark tobacco leaves grown in the Cotswold area of Lotte. He lit them, allowing the pipe to burn like a sacred incense. He sat down against the marker and took a long drag of the sweet-smelling smoke. Placing the pipe on the top of the grave, Kull kneeled, praying quietly as the sun’s orb grew stronger and stronger.

  “From death comes life, Arthur Ewing. Know that you are loved and missed. Until we meet again.” Kull could feel his friend’s presence, a sensation that had become familiar after months of consistent soul stretching. Ewing was fine, and Kull knew it.

  Kull breathed in the wafting smell of the pipe deeply, and he thought about the other graves he would visit on his way back to Preost. He would visit the small border town Nitra first. It was there where he had laid his father to rest, the words of Wael still ringing in his ears. Now is the time to bury your dead, but remember: From death comes life.

  After Nitra, he would make his way up to the ruins of Henshaw. On the outskirts of the ruins he would pay his respects to Rose, whose burial he never witnessed. Then he would go to Wael’s tomb, buried beneath the newly restored sanctuary in the deep forest of the monks. He would hold a small vigil with each of them, but he would not do it alone.

  “Am I too late?” Kull turned as Rot’s blunt nub erupted into joyous shakes.

  “Adley!” He rose to his feet, embracing his friend with a strong overflow of emotion. “It is so good to see you, Adley.”

  She smiled, her face sincere with gratitude. “It is good to see you, Kull...or should I call you Mastermonk?” She winked, and Kull felt his heart pang in his chest.

  “Only if you want me to call you High Regent.”

 
; “High Regent of Lotte, Vassal Lord of the Sardom of Candor, Kull Shepherd. Only refer to me with the official titles,” Adley said, her voiced drenched in the pompous authority of the since decimated royal class.

  Kull laughed, deep and real. “How long has it been? It feels like…”

  “Ages,” she chided. “Yes, that’s correct. Forming a new world order does seem to fill the time.”

  “You’re telling me. Thank you for coming with me. Willyn was smart to commemorate the battle. To honor those we have lost.”

  Adley glanced down at Ewing’s marker, her face growing taut with emotion. “And all we’ve gained. Aleph has seen us through, though not in the way I planned it.”

  “Me either,” Kull whispered. They held each other because they had no more words to say, content to sit next to Ewing’s grave and watch the sun rise.

  The festival in Wellspring felt like a blur to Kull. He had healed many people, blessing all who came to him, marking them with the cold water that now breathed life into the desert.

  “From the waters of death, to the waters of life, I call you blessed by Aleph who restores us all. From death comes life. Selah.”

  Kull must have performed the ritual a thousand times, and each encounter was significant, but he was struck when the people parted away from a lone figure who approached him at the water’s edge. Kull blinked, trying to find words as the woman walked into the water. The crowd that had been jovial and alive with electric energy became instantly grounded and stone silent. Kull recognized her at once, and he met her in the water.

  “I... I shouldn’t have come,” she whispered. “I’ll leave…I…”

  “No,” Kull spoke, his voice tender. “You are welcome here. All are welcome to be restored in Aleph’s presence.”

  The dark eyes of the woman filled with tears, and she shook her head violently. “After...after he…”

  “Isphet,” Kull spoke his name, undeterred.

  “After...Isphet was gone...I forgot myself. I forgot who I was...but you. You freed me...from the darkness. I don’t know who I am anymore. They...they called me...Nyx.” The woman’s face twisted with pain as she spoke the name.

  Kull stared deep into the eyes of a former enemy, their once black pools now faded into perfectly normal shades of brown. “That is not your name. Your name is Sahar.”

  Kull filled his hands with dark blue waters of the desert and spoke the new words for the new world. “From the waters of death, to the waters of life, I call you blessed by Aleph who restores us all. From death comes life. Selah!”

  On the banks of the water, Willyn stood, barely able to control the sobs that fought to erupt from the friend and guardian she had lost...his words of prophecy ringing in her mind. We Baggers...we believe strange things, different from Realm people. Our prayers are for the demons in the glass. Maybe Aleph can restore them.

  Willyn’s body shook with unbridled fervor. She quickly grabbed Luken’s hand and pushed against the din of the crowd, erupting under the ceremony of Sahar, the woman whose mind was restored by Wellspring. Willyn plunged herself into the water with Luken by her side.

  Kull held out his hand, grasping his friend’s, staring at the couple. She spoke, her blue eyes filled with falling tears. “Bless me, Kull, and bless Luken. Bless us all.”

  Kull smiled as tears fell down his own face. Without hesitation he gathered the waters and let them fall on the Sar’s face, and then on Luken’s repeating the sacred words, new words for a new world.

  “From death came life!”

  BONUS CONTENT

  The following, never-before-released panels by artist Kat Higgins were commissioned for a graphic novel prototype. The sketches were based on chapter ten in the red deaths. Enjoy!

  Thank You For Reading!

  We hope you enjoyed the Keys of Candor Trilogy and we look forward to connecting with you. We love hearing from our readers and taking in your thoughts and feedback. We know you have many options when it comes to reading, and it honors us that you would read our series! We invite you to write a review at www.Amazon.com to let us know what you liked.

  Also, please feel free to connect with us at the resources below. We love getting to know our readers:

  Online: www.keysofcandor.com

  Facebook: www.facebook.com/keysofcandor

  Email: eanesandervin@gmail.com

  Twitter and Instagram: @keysofcandor

  Be sure to subscribe to our monthly newsletter at www.keysofcandor.com to get exclusive content, news about our upcoming books and more!

  ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

  It’s hard to believe that an adventure that has been in the background of our lives for the past six years has finally come to a close. As any author can attest that books of any merit have been built and constructed by many different people, not just the authors. Keys of Candor is no different. We owe a debt of immense gratitude to several very important people who have made this project possible. Some of these people have been long standing characters in the show of our lives, while others have only made a cameo. Regardless of the stage time, know that we are grateful. Immensely grateful. Without these folks Casey and I would have surely abandoned ship back in 2013 somewhere in the third horrible draft of The Red Deaths.

  To Devin and Janet: Thank you for your support and belief in this project. We do not have words that are high enough to express the amount of love and respect we feel for you, as you both are such great partners and co-conspirators in this creative endeavor. In the midst of a perilous time in anyone’s lives (babies turned toddlers turned children) you all have allowed us to keep going and trust us when we say it would have been easier for all four of us if we had stopped. Yet you both gave us the grace and the encouragement to finish the job. Thank you. We love you so much.

  To Laura Stallings: If there could be a third author to put on this book it would be you, Laura. You took our roughly poor scribbles and showed us how to construct something much clearer, and hopefully more powerful and lasting. Let’s face it, this project has always been more than the sum of its parts, but without you in the mix we would have surely failed. Thank you for your tireless edits, corrections, and remarks like the classic: “This sentence is too wordy” or “Wasn’t Kull going to Lotte? Why is he in Preost?” Thank you for your selfless dedication in making our work better. And thanks to Thomas, who didn’t complain.

  To Susan McDonald: Susan – we never knew the value a second editor would bring to our project, but you have shown us the light. Thank you for slogging through the throws of Sea of Souls and Dominion’s End, no doubt the more complex books in the trilogy. You may not know it, but you and Laura should go into business together, because you both were able to find things that the other didn’t see (and that we missed completely!) Know that we value your friendship immensely, and we are thankful for this tangible gift of love. Thank you.

  To Kat Higgins and Melanie Murdock: Kat and Melanie – thank you for bringing our world to life in different ways. You all were crucial to us for crystalizing our vision of the strange world in Candor and we are thankful for that. Specifically, your take on our work gave us the confidence that we may have something worth sharing. Melanie, you were especially gracious and generous to us as we formed The Red Deaths. That was a critical time in the life of our project, and your enthusiasm for the work kept us moving. Thank you.

  Kat, your art and the prototype graphic novel you made was amazing. We loved having a visual window into our world. We have shared that prototype in the Trilogy edition of the series. Let’s stay in touch.

  To John Hartness and Calandra Usher: John, thanks for kicking our butts about our original layout design. Your graciousness and openness to two newbies in this business, even when that takes the form of being hard on us and telling us what looks like crap, is not lost on us. Thank you for your friendship and for being who you are.

  Calandra, an exchange of Chinese food for an awesome looking map has never been a better trade. Thanks for being a frie
nd to us and for contributing such an important piece to our project. It is so much better than what we could have made. Thank you.

  To our readers: You wouldn’t think we’d forget you all, did you? Seriously, for all of those who took a chance on us at Hickory Comic Con in September of 2015, we salute you. You of all people bought into a story that could have very well never ended, but you took a chance and well here you are…at the end of the story. To all our readers we sincerely hope we’ve done enough to make this work satisfying for you all. We’ve worked hard to craft a story that we are proud to share. So here it is, in its fullness, warts and all. We’ve it shared it with you and we’d love if you would share with others. If you’ve made it this far (literally to the last page!) please feel our heartfelt thanks. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.

  May your path be filled with adventure and we will leave you here at the end of this series with two thoughts. First, no matter where you are in your journey, know that there is a light for you in the dark places. You see, we really believe in the mantra of the Alephian monks – from death comes life. Sometimes you have to go through darkness to come out different on the other side. Sometimes that is the point. We’ve seen it over and over again.

  The second thought: Know that you are loved. You are loved, you are loved, you are loved. Let you no one tell you differently, because the truth is you are loved.

  Until we meet again, dear readers.

  Seth and Casey

  ABOUT THE AUTHORS

  Seth and Casey grew up together in North Carolina, and are lifelong friends. In “real life” they hold their posts as a librarian and a banker respectfully enough, but have always had deep interests in creating art, music, and now stories.