The Jestivan (Erafeen, #1)

by David F. Farris

  A man stood in front of the Intel King—a man who, just a mere second ago, was not even inside of the room. He was tall, slim, and dark skinned. He wore an elegant suit of silver and had a sword drawn in front of him.

  The beam that was supposed to finish off Vitio was extended out of the suite’s window overlooking the arena, but it was split cleanly in two. At the beginning of the fork in the beam’s path was this man’s blade, and he and King Vitio were comfortably situated between the two halves.

  Two other presences were holding onto the Archaic Prince and the Intel Princess. One was a young brunette woman dressed in all shades of blue. The other was a very plump balding man adorned in blazing reds.

  The Adrenaline King, Spirit Queen, and Passion King had put a halt to the fight and, very likely, saved a few lives.

  “Thank you,” Vitio weakly pleaded as he struggled for air …

  Lilu gazed out the window from her bed, where she could see the top of the stadium in the distance. “So with first blood drawn, this rivalry now properly deserves the title it was given so long ago …

  … The Mind War.”

  17

  Missing

  The room was no longer distinguishable as a suite. Debris littered the floor and holes peppered the walls. Compared to the loud murmur of the crowds escaping from above and below, the room was quiet. The only audible sound was the heavy breathing of exhausted bodies.

  The Adren King stepped over the split tree and glared at King Vitio. “Do not thank me. Your judgment will still come—just not like this.”

  “I don’t care. You saved me and, more importantly, my daughter,” Vitio weakly replied.

  Itta was not happy. “How dare you, Supido. This is not your war.”

  King Supido ignored the comment. Bryson watched as the man—who was just as tall as most of the other Adren Kingdom residents—walked to the Archaic Major, who was unconscious on the ground. As Supido observed the motionless body, Bryson wondered if he had seen who attacked that man. Then he received his answer as the Adren King glanced at him out of the corner of his eye.

  But he didn’t address Bryson. Instead, he looked at Princess Shelly and the Archaic Prince. “Summoning them?” he spat. “Both of you are out of your mind. This is enough of a nightmare already. There are thousands of innocent lives in danger here . . . relying on us . . . thousands. People are dying by the hundreds.” Glancing back at the Archaic King, he added, “I don’t care about your petty war.”

  Itta flushed red, but his lips stayed pursed.

  “Is what happened suspicious? Yes,” Supido continued. “However, from what is seen on the surface, Dark Realm soldiers are killing Light Realm innocents.”

  “They’re his slaves!” Itta shouted as he gestured angrily toward Vitio.

  “Shut up.” Supido projected the same aura of anger without expressing it in a childish manner, Bryson thought. Sure, he cursed a few too many times, but his volume was controlled. “All I know is our priority is taking care of the Dev soldiers down there. They are the people we should be fighting—not each other. Now is not the time for that.”

  He gazed out the window to the corpse-strewn stands below. “Queen Apsa and King Damian have elected to keep an eye on you self-indulgent scum. As for me, the Adren King, I will fulfill my natural duty—to protect.”

  He seemed to contemplate his next words carefully.

  “A war between realms is greater than a war between kingdoms.” Then he stepped off the edge of the viewing window and plummeted into the ruckus below.

  ***

  As the day progressed into evening, the battling around the arena began to dissipate. Some of the Dev soldiers managed to escape once they realized they were fighting a losing battle, but most ended up dead or captured.

  The sun sat on the horizon, somehow managing to peek through gaps in the clouds. The arena basked in a red hue. It was as if the Bozani decided to contribute their own medium to the already red-smeared canvas.

  Bryson and Himitsu took one last look inside the stadium, where rescue teams from all five of the Light Realm’s kingdoms were frantically scavenging for civilians and soldiers with a pulse. All Bryson could think about was Olivia. In fact, this was why he had lingered. But after searching her area for nearly an hour, he hadn’t been able to find her—or her body.

  With Rhyparia and Lilu at the hospital and Himitsu standing next to him, there were six others to be accounted for. Bryson and Himitsu’s walk out of the arena was a quiet one. It was a moment to contemplate what had happened and what was to come.

  Outside the stadium, a mob of people anxiously waited to begin their journeys home. Guards had set up checkpoints in all directions in effort to weed out any possible Dev Kingdom soldiers trying to sneak past.

  “Same spot we met this morning, right?” Bryson asked.

  “I think so,” Himitsu mumbled.

  When they approached the rendezvous point, Bryson’s heart skipped a beat. One, two, three, four, five . . . five . . . FIVE?

  Olivia was nowhere to be seen.

  “Yes!” Jilly screamed. “You didn’t die!” She jumped to hug the two of them, but Bryson didn’t return her embrace.

  “Where’s Olivia?” he asked.

  “We don’t know,” Director Debo said.

  “Then why are we standing around?!”

  Debo wasn’t rattled. “You’re right,” he said. “We were just about to start searching for the remaining three, but now that you two have showed up, we only need to find one. For your safety, we will search in pairs.”

  As the pairs were formed, Bryson became impatient. The moment Jilly was announced as his searching partner, he sprinted toward the stadium, forcing her to try the impossible—keeping up with Bryson’s speed.

  As he went from body to body, he found himself feeling an odd combination of emotions as he looked at each person’s face. On one hand, there was a feeling of relief that Olivia was not one of the lifeless corpses, but on the other, there was despair as each dead person added to the tally.

  Jilly searched alongside him—though without the same frenzy. When she turned over bodies, she was more delicate. She would occasionally gaze at the distraught and manic Bryson and murmur soothing sounds. But Bryson did not realize—nor would he have cared—how he was acting. His best friend was missing … the girl who kept his sanity rooted to the ground.

  “We’ll find her, Bryson. We’ll find her alive and well.”

  Bryson didn’t answer. He rolled over a dead Dev soldier and kicked it in the ribs.

  The sun sunk behind the horizon, and the other searching pairs left the stadium. Bryson was in disbelief. Of all people, how did she end up missing or dead? He began recalling all the times he witnessed her strength—the many times she had kicked Geno’s ass when they were kids, even though he was twice her size; all the painful headlocks she’d given him; Himitsu lifting his shirt to reveal a monstrous bruise on his chest … And her latest, most heroic act, when she marched through the collapsing restaurant with a wailing Lilu over her shoulder. He began to cry as his mind and body approached complete exhaustion.

  Jilly stared into the night sky as the second moon sat next to the first. “Olivia is stronger than any of us. She’s okay, Bry—”

  “SHUT UP!” he screamed. “SHUT UP, SHUT UP, SHUT UP!”

  She shut up. But she stayed by his side.

  Bryson let out a howl of anguish and pounded his fists into the cement as tears spilled down his cheeks. “Olivia … Olivia … Olivia …” he panted under his breath.

  Then he felt a cool breeze run through his hair. He looked up slowly, and directly in front of him was a pair of feet beneath a blue dress. Each toenail was painted the same shade of blue.

  He looked up to see her face, but before he could, she vanished. And as she did so, a voice carried with the wind …

  “When the time is right …”

  18

  The Decision

  In a barren field unab
le to support any natural life lay a camp of burgundy tents—the colors of the Dev Kingdom. And judging by the way the sun blazed down on the bare rock, it was obvious that this area was not part of the overcast Intel Kingdom.

  Soldiers in burgundy were stationed throughout the site, but most circled the outer perimeter. The mood was relaxed, with laughter and gossip. There were probably more harlots than female soldiers. Prostitution was more common with Dark Realm kingdoms—not to say the kingdoms of the Light Realm didn’t have their fair share.

  The largest, most heavily guarded tent rested near the camp’s center. A lone young man sat inside of it. Hunched over a wooden table, this clean-shaven, charcoal-haired man was heatedly filling up a third piece of parchment. He depleted the ink on his quill so briskly that he found himself dipping it into the jar every few seconds.

  His face was stern, but his penmanship was sporadic as the letters slashed angrily across the paper. As the words came to his mind, he wrote them without hesitation. He was lost in his rage, but he recovered himself when the tent’s front curtain parted. A face peeked through.

  “King—I mean Prince—the general is here to see you.”

  The young man bit his lip, fighting back the urge to snap at someone for calling him “King.”

  “Let him in,” he replied.

  In walked an elderly, yet surprisingly robust, man. It was clear that his hair was once a deep black, but with age, it had started to grey as it receded from his forehead.

  “Good afternoon, Prince Storshae,” the general said with a bow.

  The Dev Prince leaned back in his chair and observed his general. “Ossen, after all these years, why are you the only one who can get my title right?” he asked.

  Ossen smirked. “Technically, the title of ‘King’ is correct.”

  Storshae didn’t return the friendly expression. “I am nothing more than the Dev Prince.”

  “Your own kingdom may view you that way. However, the rest of Kuki Sphaira isn’t fooled. By law, you are the king, so that is how the world views you, sir.” General Ossen was choosing his words very carefully as he gazed at a peculiar crown entwined with chocolate cosmos flowers.

  The prince noticed this. “Are you upset I took it from his memorial?”

  “No, sir. He is your father.”

  “I take his crown with me wherever I go to remind people that I am not the king. While he may lie in the dirt, he still lives in our hearts.”

  “That he does,” Ossen responded weakly.

  “As for the rest of Kuki Sphaira …” The prince closed his eyes and smiled. “Soon, they too will recognize who the true Dev King is, and there is no more Mendac to stop us.”

  Ossen went silent as the conversation approached a very touchy subject that was best for him to avoid. Thankfully, the prince moved on from the topic.

  Storshae placed his quill in the ink bottle and folded his hands on the table. “So what is the reason for this unexpected visit? I suppose it must be important if it drew you from your station—speaking of which, how is she?”

  “Telling you how she is would require her showing me,” Ossen said.

  “Still an expression of stone?” the prince asked with a sly smirk.

  The old man gave it some thought before replying. “From what I can see through the bruises and cuts, yes.”

  Prince Storshae slapped both hands on the table. “Beatings, whippings, and memory torture! She can take it all! I’m thankful for her. She has provided us much needed entertainment while we wallow in this wasteland of a kingdom.”

  “That she has, sir.” He laughed. “It’s like a game. Who can crack her stubborn shell first?”

  “We should offer a reward!” Prince Storshae exclaimed.

  Ossen coughed. “Could that reward be water, sir?” he mumbled.

  Storshae sighed “So that’s what you came here for.”

  Ossen nodded gravely. “We have roughly a day’s worth left.”

  “Scout team isn’t back with resources?”

  “They’re back.” He averted his eyes as he added, “but without resources.”

  “It’s not their fault. It seems we made a mistake. Our ally set us up for failure. Whether it was purposeful or accidental does not matter. It has been ten days since we had to limp away from that Generals’ Battle with our numbers cut by more than half.”

  Storshae refocused on his parchment while venting his frustration. “Now we’ve been left to rot in his kingdom in the middle of the Light Realm where we do not belong . . . Ossen, I guarantee that he’s at that high council of the five light kingdoms and vowing that he won’t back down. That the Intel Kingdom allowed us in, and he, as the Archaic King, will retaliate.

  “And he’s doing all this while thinking that we still have his back. But he messed up that agreement, and I have an answer for that.” The Dev Prince waved his paper with a sneer. “We will no longer stand by his side. The Archaic Kingdom will be exposed and alone.”

  “That is what I want to hear, sir. The Light and Dark Realms should never coexist.”

  “We’ll just call it a failed experiment.” Storshae rose from his seat. “As for the water, take all of mine and distribute it throughout the camp. And send out a second scout team.”

  Ossen gave a deep bow. “That is awfully generous of you, my Prince.”

  Storshae waved Ossen out. “I have more writing to do.”

  Bowing for a third time, Ossen exited the tent. Once outside, he turned to the guards and said, “In the back room of the tent, you’ll see several gallons of water. Distribute it to the troops. One quart each for the healthy, half that for the sick and wounded. We don’t know how long it will need to last.”

  As the men scurried away, General Ossen headed back to his station, which was only a few hundred yards east and located directly at the camp’s heart. He approached a circular cage surrounded by soldiers and smiled at the prisoner.

  Olivia lay awake on her side at the center. Her clothes were filthy and shredded by the Dev soldiers’ whips. Her face was swollen, and dried blood stained her body. Yet her expression was as inscrutable as always as she stared into the distance. Unlike Meow Meow, who wore a sharp scowl, she didn’t acknowledge the Dev General’s return. Olivia simply thought about how her mother was right …

  Men are cowardly in the most barbaric of ways.

  ***

  “We, the five leaders of each of the five light kingdoms, are gathered today because the Light Realm has been declared to be in a state of emergency,” the Adren King said as he stood at his place around the vast oval table.

  He scanned the faces of his fellow royalty. “As everyone knows, the rule is if the majority of the leaders call for a high council, then it is to be had. Queen Apsa of the Spirit Kingdom; King Damian of the Passion Kingdom; and I, King Supido of the Adren Kingdom, have called for this meeting.

  “The rules also state that the meeting must take place in the fairest and most neutral location. Thus, my kingdom was chosen. Although all five kingdoms were affected by the catastrophe at the Generals’ Battle, this location was an easy choice. With the Intel and Archaic Kingdoms automatically ruled out, it was a toss-up between the other three.

  “When an emergency meeting of this magnitude is called, only the sole leaders of each kingdom attend. Therefore, there are no advisers, generals, chiefs, scribes, or anyone else … Are these rules clear?”

  A silent nod was given from everyone except the Archaic King, who was leaning back in his chair with a distracted frown.

  King Supido looked toward the burly Intel King. “To start off this council, the floor will be given to the leader of the Intel Kingdom. You will be given five minutes to state your defense—and if desired, an offense.”

  Itta, the Archaic King, let a small single laugh slip through his lips as Vitio stood. Undeterred, the Intel King cleared his throat.

  “First and foremost, I begin with my deepest apologies. As the host kingdom, I take full responsibility
for not providing a safe environment. Understandably, the Archaic King is not happy, and he has every right to feel that way. His strongest and highest-ranking soldier was murdered. I also understand his anger toward me. Though I categorically deny allowing the Dev army into the Light Realm, I still cannot ignore how the history of the Mind War could drive him to that conclusion.

  “However, as I’ve stated, this attack was not orchestrated, nor partaken in, by the Intel Kingdom. I have always strived to exist in peaceful harmony with my fellow kingdoms of the Light Realm, and you all know this.”

  The Spirit Queen gave an approving nod and smile as he continued. “Our kingdoms have been experiencing one of the longest periods of peace in known history, and I would not jeopardize that.” He looked at the twig-crowned King Itta. “Inias was one of the strongest generals in recent memory. He was a force to be reckoned with and a shining light during dark times for your kingdom. I had spoken with him several times. He was not only powerful, but smart too.

  “Was it that annoying kind of philosophical intelligence that we in the Intel Kingdom instinctively hate? Perhaps, but I knew he wasn’t a bad person. I wouldn’t stoop to some scheme to murder the man. You must remember that as the hosts, the Intel Kingdom had a constant flow of traffic through its teleplatforms. From Tuesday to Friday—dawn to dusk—hundreds of people were flowing in from all over the Light Realm. It is plausible to say that they could have traveled from another kingdom in the Light Realm.”

  “Hogwash!” Itta spat as he leapt to his feet. “Dev soldiers have served as slaves of your kingdom for years! They didn’t travel to your kingdom. They lived in it!”

  Vitio stayed calm. “We returned those soldiers to the Dev Kingdom five years ago. We only kept a handful of their intelligence unit—ones who cannot fight. You know this.”