The Fallen Kings

by P D Atkerson

  Aroron gripped the key, then nodded. "Thanks, and be careful," he said, hurrying towards the other side of the shop. Aroron grabbed hold of the window he’d exited out of last time, and yanked it open, then he scrambled through and up the side of the building to the roof top.

  He hurried across and was almost to the other side, when something inside Aroron, told him he couldn’t leave quite yet. He couldn’t leave Ingram alone, no matter how good the man’s intentions were. This was Aroron’s fight.

  “What is the meaning of this?” Ingram said. Aroron could hear Ingram step out of the blacksmith shop, as he inched his way forwards, dropping on his stomach when he reached the edge of the roof.

  It was in that moment, Aroron realized the truth. It wasn’t a Palace guard standing outside the smithy, but one of the Karlien Warriors Enrick had shown Aroron earlier. The warrior was huge!

  “Where is he?” the warrior spat, grabbing Ingram’s neck, yanking him off the ground. The blacksmith wasn't a small man by any measure, but this warrior made him look like a doll. “I know he came this way!”

  “Who?” Ingram asked, grabbing for the warrior’s arm. “I haven’t seen anyone.”

  The warrior growled and tightened his grip around Ingram’s neck. “Liar!”

  “You won’t be able to… stop him now. The second war has already begun.” Ingram gasped out. “I… know who he is…”

  “You don’t even know the slightest.” The warrior hissed in his face. Then in a flash, he twisted his hand and yanked the blacksmith's head to the side.

  “Ingram!” Aroron screamed, as the blacksmith dropped to the ground and his head fell limply forwards. He was dead.

  Chapter 28

  Nowhere to Turn

  Without hesitation, Aroron ran forwards and leapt from the top of the building, towards the Karlien Warrior.

  The second he hit him, Aroron hooked his arm around the warrior’s neck and dropped his full weight down, but the warrior hardly noticed him. He grabbed Aroron and flung him across the ground.

  Aroron hit the ground hard, knocking the air out of his lungs.

  Who was this warrior?! Aroron wondered, slowly shoving himself to his feet, turning back towards the Karlien. “You killed my friend!” he spat, before lunging at the warrior again. Anger surged through his veins.

  “He would not have died, if you’d not come here.” The warrior whispered. “His blood is on your own hands.”

  Aroron yelled, and a blast of wind ripped through the street and hit against the warrior.

  But the warrior stood against it, leapt forwards and grabbed Aroron, slamming him into the ground again. For a second, the warrior held his knife against Aroron’s neck, then with a growl, he lowered it.

  “What’s the matter?” Aroron hissed, as the warrior’s grip tightened around his neck. “Can’t you kill me?”

  “No, I have my orders.” He whispered. “I'm not supposed to kill you. The time for your demise has not yet come.”

  “Right.” Aroron said, quickly grabbing the warrior’s mask, he yanked it off. His breath caught and the mask slipped from his grasp. The face under the mask wasn’t human, but was instead made of black, metal like skin, with rough edges that looked as sharp as a blade.

  “What are you?” he whispered, his heart pounding against his chest as he fought back his fear.

  “I am a guardian, Dragon King.” The thing hissed, its red eyes burning into him. “And I will be there when your blood spills upon the ground.”

  “How do you know who I am?”

  The thing scoffed. “We’ve known what you were, long before you were even born, mortal!”

  Well, that was creepy. “If you’re not going to kill me, why don’t you let me go?”

  The thing tilted its head and his red eyes grew bright. “That I will, for I am not the one meant to catch you, not yet anyways.” It whispered, rising back to its feet.

  Aroron couldn’t believe the creature! “Then why did you come here? Just to kill my friend?” he asked, glaring at him. “Why?!”

  The creature’s eyes dimmed. “Luse has his reasons, and his reasons are his own. What they are, I cannot and will not tell you.”

  “Luse?” Aroron whispered the name, it tasted bitter in his mouth. No wonder the creature looked like that; it was a servant of that monster!

  "Over there!" Aroron glanced down the street, as a Palace guard came running towards them. He needed to get out of there, and fast! But he had a feeling this thing didn’t want to be seen as what he truly was.

  The creature looked too, bent down and snatched the mask off the ground, quickly covering its face. “If you’re going to leave, you’d better get to it.” It hissed. “I can’t wait to see how the rest of this hunt plays out.”

  Glaring at the creature, Aroron scrambled back to his feet. “I don’t plan on getting caught!” he told the creature.

  It laughed. “No one ever does.”

  Ignoring the creature’s comment, Aroron took one last look at Ingram's lifeless body. He could only hope they gave him a proper burial. He fought back the feelings that tried to take control of him. He couldn’t give into them, not yet. He took in a deep breath, turned and bolted down a side street. Not even daring to glance back.

  Not far behind him, he could hear the Palace guard yelling which way he'd gone. He didn't have much time to get away. Aroron needed to take every second he could.

  Aroron’s heart was pounding as he skirted around another corner and ran as fast as he could to the next covering, just a few feet ahead of him. He needed to make sure the guards saw as little of him as possible.

  Just then, another Palace guard stepped out of one of the alleys, and right in front of him. Aroron slammed fast and hard into the guard, knocking them both to the ground.

  Aroron scrambled on top of the guard and pinned him down. "Sorry," he said, slamming his fist into the man's face. His head fell back against the ground and his eyes rolled back into his head. "But you shouldn't get in my way."

  He jumped up, grabbed a knife and sword out of the guard's belt and continued his way down the alley, dodging wood boxes and trash. He quickly made his way through, keeping to the shadows as much as he could.

  He’d barely stepped out onto the main street again, when he saw the flicker of torches and the sound of boots thudding against the ground to his right. Aroron was about to turn around, when he heard another guard behind. He glanced around; the only way out was climbing onto the roof of one of the buildings. Great! Once again, he was going to have to run on top of a roof.

  He was starting to get sick of them.

  Aroron sighed and scrambled on top of a pile of boxes. Reaching above his head, Aroron grabbed the edge of the house and pulled himself up. The edge of it dug into the palm of his hand, but he ignored the pain, as he finished his climb.

  The houses on the outer edge of the city had flat sand roofs and they were smaller. The flatness helped to quiet Aroron's steps, as he slowly made his way to the end of the row.

  A five-foot alley stood between him and the next house.

  He looked around; this was the only way out.

  Aroron let out a deep breath, took a few steps back, ran forwards and jumped. He landed on the edge of the roof, breaking pieces of it off, as they crumbled to the ground below. He tightened his grip on the roof and started to climb to the top, where he stood up again.

  As he did, a guard shouted below, "I see him, he's on the roof!" Guards from all over came running. Aroron started running again too, faster than he thought he could, but soon his side started to burn, and his legs grew weak. It wasn’t easy jumping from house to house.

  He jumped onto a sloping roof and slid down to the house below.

  Aroron ran to the edge and looked down. The two streets next to the house formed a 'T' in front of him. Also, in front of him was one of the city's outer walls. Less than a hundred feet away from freedom, and the Lower Town that held so many foul memories.

  He was jus
t thinking about what to do next, when he froze. He wasn’t alone anymore.

  Guards were hurrying down the street towards him. But it wasn’t just guards, but knights and warriors in full armor. He turned to his left, then to his right, dread filled him.

  He was surrounded.

  Being so close, yet so far from freedom, was almost too much for Aroron. It was just within reach, at the tip of his fingers.

  As they drew nearer, the warriors and knights slowed their pace, fingering their weapons, as one by one, they drew them. Aroron couldn’t see any of their faces, but he knew among them were men he’d led into battle against the Zilladiens. Did they know what was going on? Or did they just know they were hunting their commanding officer?

  One of the knights stepped up to the house in front of Aroron and shook his head. He pulled his visor up and looked at Aroron, it was Captain Mormare. Of all people.

  "To think, I once thought you were a noble person for saving the Prince's life," He whispered. "But I see now, that was just a plot to get into his good graces! Because you're an Oddity, and you knew there was no other way you would get such a high rank."

  So, that's how Enrick's going to play? Aroron thought to himself, shaking his head.

  "You know nothing of what's going on here, Mormare. Don't..." Aroron growled and looked away. He wouldn't say any more, it wasn't as if they would believe him anyway. He stood up tall as he could, and looked Mormare in the face. "You wouldn't believe me if I told you the truth," Aroron said, as he took a step back. “None of you really know who I am, or who really attacked Shey.” He took another step back.

  "Don't move, Aroron!" Mormare ordered, glancing around. “You’re just going to make this worse.”

  Aroron had had enough!

  "You do not rule me, Mormare. I'm not even a Shenockien. I am a Karlien." Aroron hissed. "I don't belong to Munay or Enrick anymore than I belong to you. I'm sick and tired of people acting like they get to choose my fate, but the truth is, I'm the only one who gets to do that!"

  "Don't move another step, or we will take lethal action!" Mormare yelled, but Aroron was no longer listening to him.

  Aroron took in a deep breath and ran forwards, jumping off the edge of the house. He flew over the road, rolled and slammed into the edge of the tower. Moaning, he scrambled to his feet and hurried towards the wall. He was so close to freedom! He could almost taste it!

  He turned, just as one of the guards on the wall came at him. He quickly drew the blade he’d taken from the guard and batted the sword away, grabbed his arm and flipped him over the wall. The guard screamed, flew through the air and landed with a thud.

  Aroron didn’t have a chance to check to make sure the man had survived, before he heard movement above him and looked up.

  There, standing on one of the towers, was an archer, bow and arrow in hand, aiming right at his chest. Aroron felt frozen there, unable to move until it was too late. Just as the archer released the arrow, someone slammed into the back of Aroron, throwing him forwards and out of the way.

  Aroron spun around to face the person who had just saved his life. "Hunter? What have you done?!" he cried, lunging forwards. An arrow stuck out of Hunter's chest, as he grabbed his arm. Carefully, Aroron helped Hunter lay down against the floor of the city’s wall. "Why? Why did you do that?" he asked. "That arrow was meant for me, not you!"

  "I... I couldn't let you die," Hunter whispered. "I heard you talking... to Mormare and you're right, you do get to choose your fate, but it will affect others too," he said, grabbing Aroron's hand. “You’re not just a wanderer, you have a home. I’m sorry for this.” He whispered, Aroron's vision blurred, and he couldn't focus on anything.

  All he could feel was pain, sorrow, fire and death. Then a face flickered across his vision. It looked a lot like Munay, but Aroron knew it wasn't. It was someone else.

  Aroron yanked his hand free from Hunter, gasping for breath. "What was that?" he asked, looking up at Hunter's paling face. "What was that?!"

  "The future.” Hunter gasped out. "You're the one chosen to fight the rising darkness, Aroron. I've known since you were a baby that you would be the Elhor," Hunter whispered. "Even before we met outside the Dubh-Woods. I was the one who told your parents so, when they were still living.”

  Pain filled his face, and he seemed to fight for every breath.

  “Find Lady Orana.” Hunter said, grabbing Aroron’s hand again. “Prove to her that you're Aroron Strangeheart, she will help you return to Karlay and reclaim your crown. It's the only way to stop the darkness coming for us all. You must stop it, before it’s too late."

  "I don't even remember them; how can I prove that I'm their son?" Aroron asked, fight the overwhelming urge to cry. "I don't even know who they were."

  "I can help with that," Hunter mumbled, reaching up towards Aroron. "But only if you're willing. Know this, once I awaken these memories, they cannot be easily forgotten. Are you willing, Aroron Strangeheart? To take that chance?"

  Aroron nodded. "I'm willing."

  Hunter placed his hand on the back of his head, just as he did, a pain shot through Aroron's head, causing him to stand up and pull away from Hunter. “It may take time to fully remember.” He said, as memories flickered through Aroron’s mind. Memories he didn't even know he had. Ones from when he was a child. His childhood, as a prince!

  But he couldn’t focus on any of them, and once they’d passed, he couldn’t remember what they were.

  Pulling away from Hunter, Aroron was dizzy as he stumbled forwards and stood on the edge of the wall, looking down. He felt sick, like he was going to throw up!

  "Go..." Hunter whispered. "You must go! In time your memories will become clear."

  Aroron turned back to him and dropped to his knees. "How can I leave you here to die?" He said, clutching Hunter's hand. "I will remember you and I will remember my real parents," Aroron whispered, fighting back tears. “But what good is it? I don’t even know where to start! I’ll need your help.”

  Hunter smiled weakly. "Aroron, you’ve always been stronger than you give yourself credit for. May the memories of your parents and... me, help you take back the Karlien throne!” He gasped out. “Go, now! Before it's too late. Save our people from an ashen grave. I’ve always known this was how it would end for me. There is nothing you can do to help me."

  "I will remember you and everything you've done for me, I promise," Aroron said, squeezing Hunter's hand. Hunter nodded, then his head fell back, and he grew still. With a sour feeling in his stomach, Aroron knew he was dead. How many people had died to protect him? Two, just that night.

  Aroron stood back up and turned back towards the edge of the wall. He looked down and his eyes flickered with white light. This was all the Moones’ fault! First Munay, and now Enrick. He would make them both pay for their actions.

  While Aroron was still deep in thought, boots scraped against the stone steps behind Aroron, as someone climbed up the wall.

  He didn't have to turn to know who it was. "Mormare," He whispered. “Have you come to finish me off?”

  "Don't move, Aroron!" Mormare ordered, slowly inching closer to him. "I will kill you, if I must. But I don’t want to."

  “You’d be one of only a few.” Aroron spoke without turning towards the Captain, "I don't blame you for tonight, Mormare.” He said. “But don't expect me to forgive you for your own actions.”

  “Aroron…” Before Mormare could finish speaking, three of Enrick’s Warriors ran up the stairs and to the top of the wall. They shot towards Aroron and grabbed him, quickly binding his arms behind him.

  Once that was done, they drug him away and back towards the Palace.

  Chapter 29

  Known Stranger

  Shey’s dungeons weren’t as bad as the Dark Castle’s. Compared to them, they were quite comfortable and cheery. The sun streamed through the small barred window that lined the outside wall of the cell, bringing light and warmth with it. Two things you’d never find th
e Dark Castle’s dungeons.

  Aroron had been in there three, maybe four days now, and yet he still didn’t know why. If Enrick wanted him dead, why was he still alive? They could have easily shot an arrow through his chest, like they had Hunter.

  Enrick had made it quite clear, it wasn’t because of their friendship.

  The question had been bothering Aroron ever since they’d taken him down there, instead of just executing him when they had the chance.

  Most of the time in the dungeon, Aroron spent pacing up and down the five feet of his cell. Wearing a path through the hay that was scattered across the ground. Racking his brain, but no answer would come to him.

  He was too wound up to rest, even if he’d wanted to lie down in the filthy hay that slightly resembled a bed. No. He’d much rather move around the cell, until his feet couldn’t carry him anymore.

  What was Enrick’s plan? Aroron wondered. He knew he wanted to rule the realm, but what was his motivation? Other than the fact that his father had failed at the task. Something else had to be prompting him to do all of this. But what?

  That was the piece of the puzzle Aroron just couldn’t seem to find. He knew it was there, the problem was, he didn’t know what it looked like. Maybe he had just done all of this for power. But he’d overthrown his own father, no one could do that on their own. Someone was helping Enrick with all of this. Maybe that was the reason he was still alive. Whoever it was, Aroron would make them pay too!

  That’s when Aroron saw movement in the corner of his eye and it was all forgotten. Had they finally come to kill him? Reluctantly, he turned towards his visitor, holding his head up high, as they drew nearer.

  As the figure drew up beside the cell, he pulled his hood down and nodded towards Aroron. “I see you just can’t keep out of trouble.”