Tear of Light

by Michael Edward Tenner

  “And who told you that lie? Wasn’t it your own king and his advisors who claimed us to be tricksters and manipulators?”

  “Aye, they said as much. Is it not true then? Tell me, prince Morael, how did your people conquer a continent. I tried to make sense of a tavern, ruling an empire seems impossible.”

  “I am not here to explain how to rule.” He walked closer and took a seat opposite of Irpen. “My family has sat on the throne for six thousand years. Through that millenia, they worked to create a system that functions. Those burns you mentioned. If your men, your friends, came to any imperial city and asked to be treated, they would receive the best care there is.

  “Cures for almost all illnesses are readily available. For the common people, the care of physicians is free. Nariel himself cured many of the burns he inflicted on them. You let yourself be consumed by hatred and planned a pathetic rebellion that you know cannot last.”

  Irpen shook his head. “We’ve done none of the sorts. Our leader Alec found a green gemstone that brought us some new friends. You met A’stri I believe, her torture chamber trick worked wonders from what I heard, she was one of the first ones to come.”

  “Come from where?”

  “From a land west of Sesteria. With her, she brought knowledge and secrets. Many died with Alec, which wouldn’t be of a great issue if that brat Oren didn’t escape.”

  Hearing that name, Oren, he knew that name. It was Efri’s friend, the one he met after his battle with A’stri. “What did he do?”

  “Stole the damn green gemstone.”

  Morael wanted to laugh. A young boy possessed one of the three keys. “What’s the plan then? Is A’stri waiting somewhere to drive a sword through my back?”

  “No. A’stri’s not here. Your fight left her drained. Everyone thought she’d die anyway. Now they just have to kill you, and any day their ships will come with an army.”

  Now he could not resist laughing. “An army?”

  “You laugh, but they are the Beri’a. You may have destroyed their ancient blue-eyed cousins in the east but not them. They will put a fight, and you will lose.”

  With a sigh, Morael stood up. “This has been informative, Irpen. Thank you. Go now, surrender, and you can still live.”

  “I’ll wait and see who comes out alive if you don’t mind. You did almost lose to A’stri after all.”

  Through the tavern, Morael made his way deeper into the city. The green light was stronger and stronger. Behind him, he heard his soldiers taking the rebels prisoner.

  One dark back alley after the other, and he finally arrived at a square. It was made of chiseled brick, very different than the one from before. The buildings were cleaner, while still not up to par with Sesteria.

  It was empty but for one man freakishly tall man standing in the center, who turned to face Morael, his eyes glowing green. “Vi Dera,” he said in a terrible echoing voice. “I have waited for this for so long.” He laughed, and without giving Morael a chance to reply, he appeared before him and struck with his blade.

  Morael pushed himself up to the sky. The attacker left a cut on his forearm. “We can talk about this!” he shouted. “There is no need for us to—.” Before he could finish, a bolt of green lightning struck him and pushed him down to the ground.

  He rolled away and jumped up just in time to avoid the man’s blade. Now angry, he attacked with his scarlet spear. Yet his blows were parried with ease.

  They danced while fighting; neither had even the slightest chance to focus on casting magic. Morael tried, but a cut across his left cheek was the result. All he learned was put to use, from dodging and parrying to using rudimentary magics to strength attacks but all for nothing.

  The two were in a stalemate. Neither would relent. Morael could not allow his failure to be repeated, and so he did what all considered madness. He let go of his hold onto magic and let it course through him without limit.

  His eyes flashed with scarlet blinding his opponent and drowning his verdant shine. With just his hand, he grabbed a building and threw it onto the Ber’Ia.

  The rubble shook, and his opponent rose back up, but Morael would not relent. All of the elements he subjugated. Rain began to fall down, the drops sharp as a sword’s blade, lighting struck over and over again, fire enveloped the entire square sending its heat against the green-eyed man.

  Not even that was enough. With verdant magic, he protected himself. Stretching his hands out, he created a shield, Morael’s power could not penetrate.

  Of course, it couldn’t. Elements were not his power. Letting go, he called upon the scarlet light. His spear sparkled with crimson lightning, and as quickly as the light itself, he appeared before the man. He drove the spear deep into his chest.

  Yet as he did, he felt something break. His eyes burned, and he screamed out in agony while the Beri’a’s body fell lifeless into the rubble.

  Even when he grabbed onto his old power, returning to normal, his eyes did not. In a shard of glass, he could see. They were no longer gold, but scarlet, his pupils shattered.

  Towards Better Shores

  The plan was in place. Efri spent days and nights filling crystals, and Askard almost moved to the market permanently to make sure as many were sold as possible.

  Then, after many were sold and the power within Efri began to run dry, she set out to every corner of the town that owned the so-called scraps. To each, she gave enough to speak and a little trinket with a charged crystal. Most were necklaces, armlets, rings, and even earrings.

  All the while Ri’on was hidden away in Askard’s house forbidden from leaving. At least he was able to help with procuring the ship and organizing the journey. To all of their surprise, the money they made from the magical crystals was more than enough to get them a proper sea vessel.

  The duty to decide who can go and who cannot fell onto Ri’on. With thirty-nine Li’Ari in the town, they had only twenty-two spots open for the rest. Askard, Efri, and he took the next three. Then he decided to base who goes and who does not on their value. While the others begged to take the children, for two could replace a single adult, Ri’on and Efri were against it.

  Children offered nothing, and if their journey was to end in failure, neither wished to see children die with them. Also, if it were to come to it, any repairs on the ship needed strong men, who could not be replaced by anyone.

  Only days before their planned departure, he finalized the list. Many of Askard’s friends were on it, and he seemed satisfied; he even praised Ri’on for choosing truly the best. Efri was not as happy. Seeing people left behind brought her no joy, especially Arry not being to join. He was a little rascal, but she seemed to have found a liking to him. Ri’on, on the other hand, was glad the brat wasn’t coming, but he decided not to share his feelings with her.

  Ri’on did his best to assure her it was for the better, but she could not bring herself to tell the boy, and so Askard did it for her. Arry then disappeared, at least from Efri’s eyes, Ri’on saw him skulking around ever once a while.

  Finally, it was done. All things were in place. The ship was to arrive mere hours later, and so their plan could begin.

  As many people as possible, weapons at their waists, spread around the town ready to help the fleeing Li’Ari. Efri herself was one of them.

  Ri’on and Askard kept watch by the shore where the boat was to arrive. After so long, Ri’on could finally walk around; even the light was a welcome sight for once.

  The time came, they saw the ship coming close, and so Askard sent the command. Panic then ensued, and he and Ri’on were mere onlookers. From houses all around ran his people some with weapons covered in blood. Yet he could not see where Efri was, near the slaver’s shop where she found him. He hoped it would all go well, the slaver was such a clumsy fat man he was sure Efri would have little difficulty with freeing the people there.

  Minutes later, a dozen of his people, their chatter, a song to his ears, gathered beside him and Askard. The t
wo men looked at each other, smiling. “Alright, listen up!” he shouted. “I am Ri’on, and this is Askard. Listen to us, and all will be alright.”

  “When the ship arrives,” continued Askard, “get on orderly and calmly. No running, no pushing. There is space for everybody! Do not worry about your clothes. There is some on the ship which you will be allowed to take.”

  The people watched them quietly. “Remember, we do not know how long our journey will be. Sesteria may be far from these shores. Our supplies are limited. Make sure you not waste any food or water. Once we run out there will be nothing left and we will starve,” shouted Ri’on. “Any questions?”

  “What we’ll do when we get there?” asked one of them. “Not that I’d want to stay here, but how do we know the Sesterians won’t do the same.”

  “Slavery is forbidden in the Empire, it has been for hundreds of years!” Ri’on replied. “Our plan is to show ourselves to the imperial royalty. Once their eyes see us, witness the reality of their actions, they will, I hope, help us vanquish the light for good.”

  A short silence and then the crowd erupted in cheer and applause. Many shouted praise for both of them.

  New people were joining them each minute, and the group relayed the information he and Askard just told them.

  With a look to the see, they saw the ship coming, it was almost there. The cheers of the Li’Ari overshadowed the screams of the town.

  When almost all Li’Ari were boarded on the hazel wooden ship, even if it showed some of its age, its beauty was still there, Ri’on and Askard began to worry as a few were still missing. Specifically three.

  Then, out of nowhere, from the dunes beyond the city rode soldiers. “What are they?” Askard shouted.

  “Cry,” Ri’on whispered. “The slaver city not far from here. Someone must have told them of our plan.” He looked around. “Who are we missing?”

  “Three of yours and Efri. My men are ready to be here within a minute.”

  Ri’on drew his sword. “I’m going for her.” In his eyes sparked blue light. “If azure hits the sky, go. Leave us behind. Understand?”

  “I can help,” suggested Askard. “You shouldn’t waste your magic. Efri suffered for it enough.”

  “You are the leader!” Ri’on shouted, clutching his sword. “Without you, there’s no point. Stay here.” With those words, not giving the man a chance to answer, he ran back to the town.

  The streets were full of people running around. Not a single house was asleep, and now with the Cry soldiers everywhere, it only added to the panic. Fights everywhere, blood soaking into the hot sad. Ri’on’s stomach revolted at the sight, yet he had no sympathy for the common people of the town, they all played a role in his suffering.

  He headed straight to the slaver’s shop. The covers above were burning as lit arrows hit them. With just a small bit of magic, he forced a gale of cold wind to blow the fire out. It would help little, but at least he’d be given a small bit of time.

  Outside the store lay five bodies, the slaver one of them. Ri’on ran in, screaming after Efri. Seeing the store brought back memories, he wished not to recall, but still, he persevered.

  From the back came a voice. “I’m here!”

  Ri’on ran as quickly as he could and noticed a small trap door open in the slaver’s kitchen. “Efri?”

  “Down!”

  He climbed the old wooden ladder and saw Efri, her sword on the ground covered in blood, fighting with a metal cage in which were three children. “What is this?”

  “A special shipment for some rich man. Hidden, so no one sees it. I was unable to get them a crystal before; even when I got in to give it to others, he had the key.” Again she tried to pull on the metal bars.

  “Efri,” Ri’on said loudly, and finally, she looked at him. Her face covered in sweat, bruised and bloodied. “What did you do?’

  “Met more resistance than I expected. It doesn’t matter. Can you open it?” She stepped away, and Ri’on pushed it open.

  The children ran out, and all hugged Efri, who laughed and cried. “No time for that,” she said. “Let’s go.”

  They ran out of the store but outside waited a soldier. Efri attacked with no concern for anything, not even her own life. Their sword rang, but she came out victorious after driving her blade right through the soldier’s chest.

  “Going?” she asked, heavily breathing, smiling as she saw Ri’on’s bewildered expression. “Though I’m some delicate flower? Let’s go.”

  Running through the streets, the children in between them, they saw the horror of Cry’s soldiers. Everyone else was being taken or killed. “Who are they?” asked Efri.

  “Soldiers from the slaver city I told you of. Someone must have told them.” He sighed. “Maybe the slaver found out. Let’s not dwell on that.”

  As he said, they let it go and ran as quickly as they could. The soldiers noticed them but were too slow to catch up. Then before them was the rope bridge leading to Askard. Ri’on ran first, followed by the three children.

  But Efri tripped on a small rock right before it. She fell face-first into the dusty sand. With as much speed as humanly possible, she jumped up, ready to run across, but then the ground shook.

  All the world froze, and she looked in horror behind her. There far away on a dune behind the town, was a silhouette of a man with a hand raised. Again the ground shook, and the bridge collapsed.

  “Efri!” Ri’on shouted, and they both looked at each other. “Run,” he mouthed quietly.

  She shrugged. “There’s nowhere to run,” she shouted back with tears in her eyes. “Tell Oren I’ll miss him for me. I’ll be waiting for you all to return.” With those words, she readied her sword and rushed back.

  There was no magic Ri’on could conjure. With each shake of the ground, he got weaker. “Come on!” Askard shouted from the back. “Snap out of it, you blue-haired fool!”

  Finally, he turned back after seeing Efri kill one last soldier. He jumped on the ship, and with the utmost haste, they set sail, the ground still shook, but on the ship, they cared not at all.

  “Run!” Ri’on pointlessly shouted. “Please, don’t die,” he added in a whisper.”

  “Don’t worry!” a familiar voice reached his ears. “She’ll be fine.”

  It was Arry, the young boy who led Efri to him. “What are you doing here?” Ri’on gazed to Askard, who averted his head. “It was you who told Cry. Because of you, Efri was left behind.” Not just his eyes, but the eyes of every Li’Ari now stared right at the young boy.

  “Where’s your evidence?” the boy asked smugly. “Accusing me of something I didn’t do. I was mad that you all decided I can’t come, but I didn’t do it.”

  “You worm,” Ri’on shouted and walked to him, the others making way for him. He grabbed Arry’s neck.

  “No!” the boy shouted. “I didn’t.” Ri’on sent heat into his hands, burning Arry’s neck ever so slightly. “Fine, fine!” he shouted, feeling the magic’s effects. “I did. Didn’t pick me to come with, so I replaced her.”

  Ri’on let go of him. “I was in charge of picking who comes with us and who doesn’t,” he said quietly.

  “Well, I guess I was wrong.” Arry laughed.

  Ri’on joined and laughed too. Then he punched him with as much strength as he had. “She had the power of Vi Dera in her,” Ri’on shouted. “Without her, our goal became a lot more distant!” He grabbed Arry. “Goodbye, brat.” With those words, he threw him overboard.

  A Recruit

  Upon arriving to the imperial regional capital of Istra, Narra headed to the only place she could - her home. She sauntered around, enjoying the smell, the sounds, the feeling of a bustling city. The chiseled stone that made the roads, the bricks of the houses. All of it was a polar opposite to the dirty and broken down streets of Beria. She hoped not to ever see that city again.

  A few streets and alleys and her childhood home were finally before her. Yet inside, through the windows,
she saw people. Two children and a woman. It could not have been. The house was hers by right.

  Of course. She was naive. That’s why nobody pursued Ceril. The city government took their home as repayment. With a sigh, she watched the house for a good few minutes. So many memories yet all tainted by her father’s presence. She wished to erase him from her head but couldn’t. Even seeing her childhood home brought more anger and sorrow than happiness and joy.

  It was a new life she wanted, and if it were to become a reality, she must have let go. With a feeling of bliss, she left the area and headed to the military academy.

  Often she passed by the great sprawling building but never came in. A park was right outside, for the first time ever she sat down and watched. It was calming, especially given the busy mood of the rest of the city. The trees being shaken by the wind and her own hair, now a tad bit longer than she liked them almost covering her ears, caressed by it. It was a dream, one she never intended to have, come true.

  Without a home, without family or friends but free of Ceril at last, free of Beria. Her head held high she stepped on the pavement and headed straight inside the military academy.

  The interior of the academy was even grander than she expected. A massive open hall with pillars supporting the floors above it. Every step could be heard all the way across. The floor was pure marble, walls decorated with depictions of significant battles, ornaments of the imperial phoenix, and framed important historical documents.

  She looked straight forward. Six desks made of expensive dark red wood arranged in a half square were before her. Coming closer, she looked at the only officer there, he had his head down, reading a large thick book. Quietly she waited for him to finish a page.

  Once he was done and raised his head, he looked to her. “Thank you,” he said politely. “What can I help you with citizen?”

  “I wish to enroll,” she said, plain and simple. “Please.”