by Adam Lynch
“Eradicate them all,” the king declared so all the sharers of his blood could hear. “Cleanse this world of all who disease it.”
Cautious and discreet, Ashkii and Kel sped out of the castle, arriving at the main gate and departing from it—there were no guards on watch thanks to the siege. Outside on the mountain, an even larger battle was waged between the Red-Bloods and the Sun-Shields. Hundreds of men fought, every man eradicating another’s contribution of society from existence. Every second was another life taken. So many lives were being destroyed… and for what?
“Spirit Hunters!” shouted a Sun-Shield, detecting Ashkii and Kel’s presence out on the mountain. “Capture them. They could be spies.”
With so many eyes on them suddenly, Ashkii and Kel bolted from the scene down the mountain. Teams chased them, attempting to encircle them. Ashkii had to choose his directions carefully. One wrong turn and they’d be surrounded.
“There’s a blizzard ahead,” shouted Kel, pointing at it. “We’ll lose them there.”
The Sun-Shields hot on their tail, Ashkii and Kel sprinted as fast as they could. The shouting voices were growing louder every second. They were quickly closing in on them from all sides. Warriors leapt off cliffs, nearly catching them—there were too many close calls.
Then suddenly, a warrior popped out from behind a rock, nabbing Kel. Pulling out the Knife of Embers, she struck his thigh, but he held fast. Drawing out his hunter’s knife, Ashkii finished off the wounded soldier in the neck, the two of them pressing on before the others had caught up and trapped them.
They dashed as quickly as they could for the blizzard, their pursuers shouting at them indistinctly. Once Ashkii and Kel were caught up in its blinding winds, they lost sight of their enemies… but at the expense of also losing sight of where they were headed next. There was nothing but thick snowfall ahead in front of them. They could not at all see where they were going. Then suddenly, Ashkii ran into a black, bald man with expanded gray eyes. From his ragged white apparel, he drew out two cutlasses, hissing with beastly vigor and attacking.
“Whoa,” said Ashkii, evading in time, losing him in the intense blizzard. “What was that?” He faced Kel for an answer.
Suddenly, he ran into another just like him, his eyes aligning with the mark on his forehead. Six—the number six. Watching the hissing black man pull out his cutlasses, Ashkii gazed at his wrist, seeing the number, six, there as well.
Losing him in the wilderness, Ashkii and Kel ran into another, then another, and then many more. “Head right,” Ashkii shouted over the rough winds, running past several hostile hissers carrying cutlasses.
They were everywhere—at any turn. Caught in the center of their march, it was difficult to evade their beastly assaults. Ashkii had never seen them before and there were hundreds of them marching towards the castle. Were they perhaps the warriors that Kel had once told him about?
“Sky Pirates,” she pronounced, speaking his mind.
They were all different shapes and sizes. Men, women—some old, some young; some fat, some skinny. They were like normal people, all ritualistically identical, carrying the same marks and look of the cult. They were like zombies—transformed, brainwashed zombies. Ashkii had sensed a very disturbing presence in them.
“A cave,” Kel notified, pointing to it. “Run.”
They did just that, a close call past every pirate. When within proximity, they leapt for it, rolling inside. Several pirates saw them flee there, but oddly, none of them had pursued. Perhaps Ashkii should consider himself fortunate, but it felt bizarre—disturbingly unnatural...
As long as they hadn’t blocked the path, the Sky Pirates were entirely indifferent to their presence.
The Chalice of Prophecy
Peering from inside the cave, Ashkii watched the Sky Pirates march through the snow, fascinated by them. There was no documentation of them anywhere in Seasons. Ashkii knew nothing about them and this was the first time he had laid eyes. Could they somehow be involved with the Hypnotist? Perhaps if he learned more about them, he could uncover something important about the Hypnotist. The problem was—who knew anything about the Sky Pirates? They were as great of a mystery as the Hypnotist itself.
He heard a fire ignite behind him, facing that direction. Kel had started it after gathering wood. She had her Bow of Embers drawn… arrows—had she found some in the cave?
“Come, Ashkii,” she said, noticing his gaze on her bow. “Warm yourself. Reload your ammunition. There are deceased Red-Blood archers who have loaded quivers.”
At last, he thought to himself, rising to his feet. He paced over to the bodies—long dead, frozen, temperature too low for the reek to travel. He bent his knees, reaching for all the arrows in the quiver. The second he touched them, the dull ordinary arrows bloomed, a holy glow illuminating like newly formed stars.
“How fascinating,” said Kel, earning Ashkii’s attention. “So any you touch become Spirit Arrows?”
“Yes,” he answered simply, eyes wandering toward her arrows. “And yours? Do they ignite when released from the Bow of Embers?”
Kel, beamed, chuckling. “You see the fire I started, don’t you? Why don’t you come join me?”
She sat by the fire, extending her hands to feel its warmth. Ashkii, accepting her offer, followed her lead, sitting beside her. She turned to look at him and smiled, his face expressionless as he gazed at the flames.
“What is it you’re feeling right now, Ashkii? Could you tell me?”
He didn’t understand her meaning, but something inside opted him to answer. “Nothing,” he said, a long pause. “I always feel… nothing.”
“Ashkii, look at me.” He did as she said, Kel gazing with intense intrigue. “Now answer me. Do you think I feel what I often express? Do my expressions feel sincere to you?”
Ashkii studied her a moment before answering. “I don’t know,” he answered honestly. “I don’t think about other people.”
She chuckled, brushing her hand on his cheek. “I know,” she said. “That’s why I’m asking you directly. And while I have your attention, tell me: What do you think I’m feeling right now? Does it show on my face?”
Ashkii, not understanding her meaning, didn’t answer. Adrenaline roused through his body. Kel seemed to notice, grinning.
“Are you feeling something now, Ashkii?” she asked, his heart rate increasing, his eyes swift in movement.
He hesitated, unsure at first, unfamiliar with the feeling. “Yes,” he said, convinced. “I do.”
Her grin extended, her eyes growing more intense. She reserved a moment to study him, thinking. “I want to confess something to you. Are you ready to hear it?”
He didn’t reply, encouraging her to go on. “I know how you feel, Ashkii... because I feel the same way. I know how painful is it—to have what’s like a poison numbing your body. It’s not how we’re meant to feel—indifference… emptiness. I know these feelings well. I know them more than I wish I had—but they are all that’s left after what happened to me. They are all that has survived my past. The only real difference between you and me is that I’m better at expressing what I don’t feel than you. It’s because I am an entertainer—an actor. The arts, studies, and lessons of acting have helped me blend in with this world—to survive. You’ve lived alone, surviving on your own. But I’ve learned to fit into our culture—the culture that has forced me to become a part of it, as it now forces you.”
“Until I find the Hypnotist and complete my mission,” he said.
Kel grinned, seemingly pleased to hear this. “Yes,” she said, grinning. “Yes.” She paused, gazing at him with what appeared as obsession. Ashkii found himself curious by it. “It’s interesting, isn’t it?” she went on. “Neither of us feel anything because it was all taken from us. Yet, it’s because we share this mutuality that we feel something for each other. It’s almost if we’re giving something to one another—something we don’t have.”
“That doesn’t m
ake any sense.”
“I know!” she exclaimed, chuckling vigorously suddenly, causing Ashkii’s heart to race. “And it’s fascinating...”
With so much unfamiliarity rising too suddenly, he turned his glance toward the fire, Kel doing the same. Both were silent for a time.
“By the way… Ashkii.” she asked, her tone more casual. “How do you remember that your name is Ashkii Dighin?”
“I don’t. I don’t remember my real name,” he confessed, eyes fascinated by the liveliness of the flames. “When I traveled to a village for the first time when I was young—before I found the Spirit Bow—I heard a prophet prophesying about a man named, Ashkii Dighin. I needed a name, so I decided to make it my own. Though, now that you mention it... and thinking back at it… I realize that that prophet was prophesying about the Spirit Gatherer—me.”
Hearing this, Kel faced him, fascinated. Then, they both faced the fire, silent for a while.
“We’ve lost Rolf Valentine—our only lead to the case,” said Ashkii, slapping his thighs in frustration.
“Rest your body, Ashkii,” said Kel, lying down, getting comfortable. “Tomorrow’s another day. A new lead will come.”
○
Ashkii awoke after Kel who was peering outside the cave. Morning’s light crept in, but the blizzard blustered on. It still was not safe to travel outside.
“The cave extends,” Kel said, illuminating the darkness with the Bow of Embers, diving deeper. “We should explore its depth.”
She was right. They could find something. Rising to his feet, he followed after her. Extending the lighting and area of their search, he raised the Spirit Bow overhead. For a while, there was nothing but rocks and ruble. Then suddenly, something stood out. There was a faint glow outlining a stone in the wall. A secret room?
“What is it?” Kel asked, watching as he pushed the stone, attempting to budge it. “You found something?”
Not answering, he pushed harder—nothing. Stubborn as the rock, he pushed until it budged. When that happened, the stone slid with ease, revealing a glow inside so bright it illuminated the entire cave.
There was a chalice resting in the hand of a finely carved statue of The Great: Summeria’s most powerful leader in the region’s history and the only monarch to have ever ruled the entire land of Seasons. Many had not known of its existence, its manuscript only found in one of Autumnum’s tombs. The manuscript had written that the king had hid it away where no one would find it or know of its existence. Obviously, someone knew of the chalice’s existence if the manuscript had existed… he or she just didn’t know where the king had hid it.
Yet, here it was—holy and sacred like the Spirit Bow. Ashkii was most excited with this discovery. Knowing its power from reading the manuscript, he knew its use would aid him in locating the Hypnotist.
“Ah, what a marvelous glow,” said Kel, relishing the sight of it. “What is it?”
Easing in to take the chalice, when Ashkii touched it, its light significantly dimmed. He flinched, startled from this.
“What did you do?” Kel asked, relighting the Bow of Embers to collect lost light.
“It’s fine… I think,” Ashkii said, studying it with fascination. “It is the Chalice of Prophecy—one of The Great’s most valuable treasures. It holds a power we can use to potentially learn everything about the Hypnotist.”
“Really?” Kel asked, impressed. “And what power is that? Clairvoyance?”
“If one pours the blood of a dragon and drinks it from this cup, he’ll uncover a vision of his future.”
Kel smirked. “The blood of a dragon? There is but one in all of Seasons.”
“Yes, I know. Ieronne, Watcher of the Summerian Council. He will have to fall.”
“You seem so confident—despite Summeria having a historic generation of unscathed dragon guardians.”
Ashkii held the Spirit Bow out in front of him, admiring its celestial glow. “The Spirit Bow can pierce through any magic, and any skin. If I can pierce Ieronne’s skin, he will fall. He is not immortal.”
“It will take substantial skill. A dragon is not only swift, inescapable, powerful, and impenetrable, but cunning as well.”
“I’ve taken many beasts in the past. No matter how large they are, all life ends.”
Kel chuckled, seemingly amused, gazing intensely. “Tell me. What are you expecting to uncover from the chalice?”
“The manuscript hasn’t specified how much and how far I’d learn, but anything revealed should help develop a lead. Looking to the future will show us the way.”
Kel beamed, almost excited. “You make it sound so easy. You know, nobody has ever slayed one of Summeria’s dragon guardians before. You’d be the first. You’re not the least bit doubtful? Afraid?”
“The dragon will fall. It has to.”
“Yes,” Kel said, nodding. “It does.”
When the treasure was gathered and the plan was set, Ashkii and Kel continued their progression through the cave. They walked a long time, a hefty distance. There was nothing else in the cave to find, nothing but rocks and ruble. So Ashkii’s mind began to wander, thinking about what he and Kel had talked about concerning the dragon. Thinking back at all the history he’d read about of Summeria and their generational line of dragons, he realized that Kel was right. Not one dragon in all of recorded history had ever been slain—though that didn’t mean that one was never defeated. Ashkii had remembered reading about King Perseus of Summeria who had ruled a time after The Great. Thanks to the power that The Great had left him, Perseus owned the mightiest dragon that Summeria had ever bred: Eolbo, Lord of the Dragons. The dragon was so large and powerful that the king had used him to dominate Seasons of that time, thinking his dragon to be unstoppable since he was impenetrable. But then the impossible had happened. With the powerful sorcery and numbers of a long-living and fearing witch coven, and with flawless strategy and timing, Eolbo was buried beneath the earth of Winteria, his body frozen there for all of eternity. Nobody today knows where the dragon’s body is kept—that’s why many believe the story to be a myth. But Summeria after Perseus, fearing the story, vowed to protect their dragons as the dragons had protected them. From that time on, dragons were assigned solely as guardians—guardians of the council members.
As to the witch coven who brought down the dragon—they yet live. Infamous as greatly as they were feared. They were Oztior’s teachers. They were The Sisters of the Red Blood.
“Ashkii,” said Kel, instantly pulling him out of his mind. “There’s light ahead.”
Walking around the corner, he saw what she’d claimed. There was a large opening ahead, sunlight shining in from the outside. It’s not a cave, he thought. But a tunnel.
“How exciting,” she said after noticing Ashkii’s interest of the situation.
They approached the exit swiftly until they suddenly heard voices. Immediately, they backed against the wall, stopping. They doused the flames and masked the Spirit Bow. Then, slowly, they eased towards it. When the voices became coherent, they eavesdropped, peering out of the cave to identify them. It was a group of Sun-Sheild warriors—the Summerians. There were thirty in all, two of them conversing while the others ate and rested by the fire that they had lit. The blizzard had passed, but clouds remained. Still up on the mountains, they were proxy to a dark white forest.
“How fares our brothers on Valentine’s Peak?” asked one Sun-Shield to the other.
“There are complications,” he replied. “Compromises might need to be made.”
“What happened? Explain.”
“Spirit Hunters are raiding Oztior’s tower, demons are appearing out of nowhere, and now we’re getting reports of Sky Pirates—a massive army storming up the mountain. There’s not enough of us to endure these challenges. Orders of retreat are pending, but many of us have already made up our minds.”
“What’s on your mind?”
“Live to fight another day.”
Suddenly, Ashkii a
nd Kel heard the sound of rattling armor and footsteps approaching from behind them. Sun-Shields—more of them. They were traveling back to their camp from the other end of the tunnel.
“Curse it!” said Kel, spinning one direction to the next. There was nowhere to go. Detection was inevitable.
“Take them out,” said Ashkii, stringing his bow and striking a soldier’s neck, his death swift and discreet. Kel mimicked, neutralizing the other beside him. Both soldiers fell without uttering a single word—yet despite this, something caught the attention of one of the Sun-Shields outside.
“What? What is it?” asked the other when he’d noticed his ally’s distraction.
The suspicious soldier, uncertain of his answer, hadn’t responded—creeping cautiously inside the tunnel. “I think I saw something glow,” he finally clarified.
The Spirit Bow—Ashkii knew that that’s what he was referring to. For a moment when striking the other soldier, Ashkii had unmasked its light from its covering. The soldier outside the cave must have peered over this direction when that happened.
Blast it, he thought. The soldier couldn’t be allowed to proceed toward the corpses inside. He had to be subdued as well. “Keep still,” he whispered to Kel, pulling out his hunter’s knife. “I got him.”
Before the soldier had drawn close enough, Ashkii suddenly heard a footstep sound from behind them. He spun his head around and saw a Sun-Shield right there.”Got you, you sneaking hunters!” he shouted, skewering Kel’s side with his spear just after Ashkii saved her in time from a lethal blow.
Reacting fast, Ashkii stabbed the soldier’s throat, but it was already too late. The other soldier entering the cave had witnessed the whole event. He was now on high alert, calling for reinforcements.
It couldn’t be helped.
Ashkii and Kel bolted back inside the tunnel—but stopped when they saw several soldiers running towards them. Immediately, they spun the other direction facing the exit. They sprinted as fast as they could, Ashkii shooting the soldier in front of them before he was able to gather the others to trap them inside. A close call it was to leap out before the reinforcements had barricaded the exit, but with thirty Sun-Shields already present at camp, it took no time for them to surround the intruders.
