War of Kings and Monsters

by Christopher Keene

  They began to set up camp and Nathan went into the forest to collect firewood. Durian accompanied him, talking circles around him about what had happened, even though he had been there and seen it all.

  “You should have seen Blazer’s retreat from the Terratheist forces. The lines he made through their number was so clean he could have written my name among their ranks.”

  The forest was filled with Melkai, but Durian kept Blazer out to guard them. After what they had seen the wolf do to the scorpion, he doubted that any Melkai would be able to challenge it.

  Nathan stuck out his bottom lip. “Yeah, well, I fought a snake the size of a house with nothing but a knife and small lizard by my side.”

  Durian’s eyes grew wide. “Is that how you killed the Snake King’s Melkai?”

  Nathan smiled. “You knew of Serraba?”

  “I heard rumors. Always thought they were just that though, hearsay.”

  Nathan shook his head. “Nothing about that man and his Melkai was hearsay; he was as nasty a tyrant as they said.”

  “And is it true that Serraba was big enough to swallow a castle?”

  Nathan scoffed. “What? No! I mean, it was big but not that big.”

  “Pity.” Durian shook his head and returned his attention to picking up more wood. “But it . . . it was the sheer number of soldiers that got us in the siege.”

  Nathan frowned as he walked ahead. “I don’t remember Terratheist’s army being that big.”

  Durian caught up with him. “You should have seen the amount of them! If it wasn’t for Blazer, Tarros and I wouldn’t have had a chance!”

  “Yes, yes, Blazer is an impressive Melkai, I won’t deny it.”

  “That’s not what I’m getting at. Your majesty, most of the soldiers we were fighting . . . well, it was like they were already dead. They just wouldn’t give up.”

  Already dead? The soldiers that burned up in Aisic’s flames didn’t even scream. It’s like they’re zombies or have no mouths to cry through.

  “Tarros told me not to say anything until we knew for sure,” Durian continued. “There was so much already you would have to believe on face value that he warned me to leave my speculations out of it.”

  Nathan nodded. “It is quite a claim, but I’m glad you told me.”

  They left the dark forest to discover it had become night. On the edge of the plane, Aisic and Tarros were removing bodies from the battlefield. As they came to a dip in the field, Aisic returned to his human form and they stood in silence.

  As the two met with him and Tarros, Durian used the blue flame from Blazer’s tail to light a fire which roared higher and bathed the dip in the field in blue light. They all came around it and hunkered down.

  Nathan sat back and stretched his arms above his head. He was grudgingly relieved that Blazer’s ability allowed them to set up a camp and relax after how long they had been traveling through the war zone. From the way the others sat down, even the Senadonians appeared to relax. During the other breaks they had taken over the last two days, they had still been sitting on their heels as though ready to jump back into the fight any second, but now they sprawled out, confident enough in their ability to detect an ambush.

  “Why didn’t you just use your dragon breath to light it?” Durian asked Aisic, his tone sharp with suspicion.

  “The same reason Tarros didn’t summon his phoenix for it.” Aisic shrugged. “Less time-consuming.”

  “Forgive my apprentice,” Tarros said. “We’re not used to seeing a man who has used his own body as a pact item. We didn’t know it was possible.”

  Aisic grinned. “It’s not something I would recommend.”

  Nathan frowned, the idea only now coming to him. “Wait, I just thought you were a Melkai who could transform into a human. Your body is a pact item?”

  “It’s a long story. I am indeed human . . . and of the Arion race.”

  Tarros nodded. “You’ve been behind the barrier, haven’t you? You’ve been to the Melkairen. It’s the only explanation. Your body and spirit got combined with a dragon when you were there. That’s why you can harness it and transform at will.”

  Aisic nodded but said nothing more.

  Durian shook his head. “But how? No human being, heck, no physical object can enter the Melkairen without losing its form. It’s not possible!”

  Tarros shook his head. “It doesn’t apply to him, Durian. He’s an Arion.”

  “What do you mean?”

  Aisic shrugged. “I can separate myself from my physical body. I did this when I unintentionally trapped myself behind the barrier long ago.”

  Tarros suddenly broke into laughter. “So, you’ve been locked in Melkairen for the past five hundred years, eh, Scion of Akai? Or would you prefer me to call you by your real name, Isaac?”

  Aisic raised a brow at him. “So, you know me.”

  Durian’s eyes widened, and he gaped at Aisic. Nathan’s mouth moved, but he couldn’t form the words to express his shock. The Scion of Akai. All this time he had been traveling with a hero of legend, someone who had saved the lands from a tyrant, someone who people still told stories about to this day, a hero who could turn into a dragon and was ready to protect him with his life. Being a king was one thing, but being a hero of legend who had lived over five hundred years was another entirely.

  “Know you?” Tarros scoffed and raised his palms. “The tale of the Scion of Akai has been passed down from generation to generation in my family.”

  “A tale that has no ending,” Durian muttered.

  Nathan recalled what Aisic told him while walking through the forest. Ramannon was eventually defeated by Cullen Armalon, but only after much sacrifice and the disappearance of their hero . . . the Scion of Akai.

  Tarros sat up again. “I’m a descendant of Tarren of Old Senadon. I’m sure you recognize the name, too.”

  Aisic nodded. “I do. Tarren was a good friend of mine.”

  He looked up at the stars and breathed out heavily, the blue light of Blazer’s flame dancing along his face.

  Nathan raised a hand. “Wait a second, your name is Isaac? Why did you say your name was Aisic? And how did you get trapped in the Melkairen?”

  Aisic looked down and shook his head. “Aisic is how we pronounced it, but Isaac was a more common name to the rest of the world, and after I became known, that’s what they called me, apparently. As for how it happened . . . well, it’s a long story.”

  He returned his gaze to the stars.

  Nathan made his tone serious. “Tell us everything.”

  Aisic raised his eyebrows in amusement. “Everything, huh?”

  All three of them stared at him until he gave way.

  “You are the king now, but we might need some sleep for tomorrow, so I’ll give you the short version.” He gestured at the two callers. “As the two of you should know, the end of Ramannon’s reign began when he chose Senadon to be his next target. For years they had been protecting the remaining Kairens, knowing that only they could save the land if the Melkai were to return. Now that I think about it, it only makes sense that a few Senadonian-Kairen couplings would lead to descendants who could create pacts.”

  Durian rolled his wrist. “We know, we know! Tell us about how you were trapped inside the Melkairen.”

  “After our first battle with Ramannon’s legions, Tarren and I advanced on Terratheist with a weapon the Kairens bestowed upon me . . .”

  Chapter 22: The Scion of Akai

  450 Years Ago

  Aisic strode across the Solvena Plains, wiping tears from his eyes.

  His path was set. It had been since Amberley’s death. Aisic wasn’t angry at Tarren for not protecting her as he’d asked. He wasn’t even angry at the executioner who had killed her. The system had made her death inevitable, the one put in place by Emperor Ramannon.

  Everyone in the lands shared his pain as their turn came. The slow destruction of their
race, the killing of their friends and family—they justified it with their will to survive in the present. He wasn’t going to allow this to go on any longer.

  A wind blew up beside him, and he noticed Tarren walking at his own pace on the grass next to him. He had been so caught up in the news of his loss that he hadn’t even noticed the Senadonian until he appeared. Tarren gave him a quick smirk.

  “I didn’t ask you to come with me,” Aisic muttered.

  Tarren shrugged. “We’re in this together, and besides, I think I’ll be able to help.”

  Aisic nodded. Ahead, the Terratheist Castle was rising above the horizon. Even in the dim light of the stars, he could already see the tips of the towers. The castle grew bigger as they walked through the fields that surrounded the city. When they reached the top of the hills, night was becoming morning, and they saw what was in the distance behind them. Less than a mile off, the united Akai and Senadonian forces were marching across the fields. At their head, Cullen Armalon, the leader of Akai, and the general who led the Senadonian forces rode their great war horses.

  Their final battle was waiting for them just over the hills.

  Tarren jerked his head at them. “Back up. You think we’ll need it?”

  Aisic didn’t reply, only started down into the valley. The hills horseshoed the valley, so once they descended one arm of the horseshoe—the one the Talis Lake rested atop—there was still yet another to climb. The Menophilly Hills surrounded Terratheist, the seat of Ramannon’s empire, its slope leading up to its main gates. The walls attached to the gate spread high up into the hills with the city stretching even higher into the mountains. The valley would be where the final conflict would take place, but their focus would be on getting into the city itself.

  They approached the gate. Dark clouds filled the sky, arising from the snowy peaks of the mountains behind. A feeling of vertigo came over Aisic as he looked up at the huge dark gates in front of him.

  “How do you plan on getting in?” Aisic asked.

  Tarren pushed him forward playfully. “Just blow the gates already.”

  Aisic let out the smallest of smiles, stepped forward, but then stopped. He looked over his shoulder at Tarren, attempting to reinforce the importance behind his words with a glare.

  “Once I’ve done this, it will be up to you to protect me from the guards until I can recover.”

  Tarren shrugged. “Sure, leave it to me.”

  Aisic raised his hand toward where the gates split. No army had breached these gates, but now it was time to test the full capabilities of his Arion powers.

  There was a sudden groan in the door as his skin prickled. He steadied himself. With an exploding crack, the doors were gone in a burst of dust that ripped up the ground around them. He breathed out heavily and placed his hands on his knees.

  “Are you alright?” Tarren asked.

  Aisic nodded but was unable to catch his breath enough to speak. Without a word, he rose and walked through the cloud of dust.

  Armed guards ran through the dust to attack anything that came into view.

  “Your turn,” he rasped.

  Tarren moved in front of him. He drew out his two short swords, spinning them up into his grip. Dashing up to the first approaching soldiers, he took one out with a quick swing of his blades. As quickly as the first had fallen, he appeared in front of the next, slashing at his neck, and then the next in the same fashion, his body blurring from soldier to soldier. Shocked by his speed, Aisic hurried through into the city streets, the soldiers that approached falling one by one.

  The tall buildings stretched up around them, but none were as big as the tower that they were approaching. They climbed the sloping streets, and guards continued to come for them. Tarren didn’t just take down the running soldiers. With blinding speed, he rushed forward and cut down the archers eyeing them up from a distance. With Tarren annihilating any obstacle that crossed his path, Aisic didn’t need to stop once.

  “Your speed . . . this power,” Aisic said, “it’s akin to an Arion’s nearing death.”

  Tarren was suddenly walking beside him again. “Amberley gave it to me during her passing so I could help you stop Ramannon.”

  “So, the powers can be passed onto others . . .” Aisic bared his teeth in anguish. “She gave you her life so she could help me . . . even in death.”

  Tarren nodded. Amberley was still alive inside of him. She and Aisic were together once more. Tarren blurred off again to cut down another soldier.

  They came to a plateau on the hill, a round flat opening between the buildings which appeared to be the city center. Waiting for them there was a large legion of the Ramannon army. They covered half the open ground leading toward the castle for a good hundred yards, shield and sword in hand, as still as statues.

  Aisic growled, “I can’t be held up by this any longer!”

  “You won’t.” Tarren moved forward.

  Aisic looked to him in confusion.

  “I can hold them here until the army arrives.”

  “Tarren, are you . . .” Aisic nodded. “Alright, then.” He then ran off down one of the side streets.

  Aisic moved through the shadowed back alleys of the city until he came to the keep that leaned tall and ominous against the Jile Mountains. He paused to admire the height of its tower and then braced himself to go inside. Entering via the unguarded main doors, he moved through the long hallway toward the throne room. Then he exhaled heavily and blew the doors clean off their hinges. His vision narrowed, but he shook his head and ran in through the dust that had risen up from the impact. The throne room was large, well-draped, and carpeted, but completely empty of people. Or so it appeared until Aisic noticed a set of robes drifting to one side of the tall dais.

  Standing there, facing away from him, was the tyrant emperor: Emperor Ramannon.

  Despite Ramannon losing his body, he clearly hadn’t lost his sense of the monarchy’s style. Aisic walked inside, looking up at the portraits on the high walls. He could tell by their faces that they were King Armalon the First’s descendants. What he couldn’t understand was why Ramannon would keep them up even after he had ascended the family throne. Aisic stared up at them, suspicious that one of them could have portrayed Ramannon himself before he lost his body.

  He stopped as he reached the center of the room. Ramannon was looking at the portrait at the back of the hall. The portrait was of an old man, older than any he had seen before, with a long white beard and wild white hair.

  “Armalon the First,” Aisic murmured.

  “My father . . .” a dark voice replied. “Ah, welcome.”

  As Ramannon whirled about, Aisic laid eyes on that which was the cause of everything. Ramannon had no body. The only thing that revealed his presence was the robe that he animated. Within the hood of the cloak were two glowing red orbs, as though the focus of his power was concentrated there. Aisic bared his teeth. For Tarren, for Amberley, and everyone else, now was the time to end it.

  On him were two swords, the longsword the king had given him, had trained him with, and the sword the Kairens had presented him, waiting to be summoned. He drew the longsword and raised it in a dueling stance, but the entity that was Ramannon did not attack him. He simply floated in front of him, walking on legs of air.

  Aisic frowned, his eyes focused but keeping his sword at the ready, even though he had a suspicion that such a weapon could do the tyrant no harm. There was no flesh to cut, no bones to break or organs to pierce, only cloth and energy. Nevertheless, he thought that it may show his hostility. He sensed no fear in the presence before him.

  “Who are you?” the deep voice asked.

  “My name is Aisic. I am the last Arion and the Scion of Akai!” he exclaimed as the cloaked figure swayed weightlessly around him. “I’m here to kill you.”

  A peal of sudden laughter echoed around the room. “Yes, yes, of course you are. Tell me, boy, are you aware of why the Arions
have power?”

  Aisic turned as the cloaked figure floated around him.

  The voice continued, “It’s because the Arions are the only race of men that have a spirit.”

  Aisic frowned in agitation. “What are you talking about?”

  “A spirit is when the energy of the body is anchored to a single spot, usually located within the heart or the brain,” the dark voice continued to rattle around the room, as though coming from the room itself. “It is this energy that is released during the Arion’s death that gives them their extraordinary power; concentrated energy channeled through the body.”

  “What of it?” Aisic spat, following Ramannon’s every movement.

  “There has been only one other species in the lands that has possessed this attribute. It was wiped from the lands before even my conception, or so it was thought.”

  “What are you talking about? There were no races wiped out before you came along!” Aisic shouted.

  “Wrong!” The sudden hiss shook the walls. “You have forgotten about one particular race that vanished from the face of the lands before even the Armalon reign began, those who hold a common ancestry with the Arion. I’m talking, of course, of the Melkai.”

  Aisic’s eyebrows pushed together. “The Arions . . .”

  The hood of Ramannon’s cloak came down in agreement. “We are Melkai, you and I. The last that were not sealed away,” he snarled. “We are, and always will be the bane of man because of this.”

  Aisic whispered, “It can’t be . . . Is that why you decided to destroy us?” He bared his teeth in disgust.

  Ramannon continued to float around Aisic.

  “The reason we can use our powers before death was not because we were special, not at all.” Ramannon flew around him faster as his voice echoed through the room. “Like with everything, it came down to our blood. You see, we are both born from the same kind of accident: the coupling between a Kairen and an Arion. A human and a Melkai.”

  Aisic’s eyes grew wide. The queen had told him Kairens weren’t as powerful as the Arions, but unlike the Arions, they could use their powers before death. It only made sense that a child born of those bloodlines would have such abilities.