Shadows of Redact

by RG Long

He spun around at the sound of a sigh.

  “Who was that?” He shouted as he looked over his troops. who would claim to know more about this city than I do?

  He had lived here his whole life. He had seen the lord and ladies rise up against the king and his family. He had stopped the assassins in the dark corners of the city from wreaking havoc on the people who walked the streets. He had known the secret plots and plans of the dreaded Blackthorn clan as they moved around the continent and sowed their seeds of destruction.

  No soldier moved. None dared to defy him. They were right to be fearful of him. He had absolute power in this city. He was able to kill and purge as needed. The old king had given him such powers and his son...

  Well, what his son didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him.

  Commander Polk was the only thing keeping this city from devolving into chaos and ruin.

  He would ensure that it stayed that way. He was the rule in this city. The military answered to him. The only men who held more power than he was the commodore and the king himself.

  “Go!” he ordered and watched as his soldiers spread out through the city in order to seek out the hidden and secret things.

  Nothing bothered Commander Polk more than to know that something was hiding beyond his sight. He would weed out whatever it was, wherever it was.

  He was the commander of the military men and women of Rerial.

  And he would have peace and order.

  11: Father and Son

  Ealrin walked alongside his father as they departed the airship platform. It took only a few moments for him to regain his stable footing. The smaller aircraft were an experience he hadn’t yet partaken in. But after having flown in the coach sized aircraft, Ealrin knew he would want to fly one sometime soon.

  The quick turns, the tight maneuvering, the quick dives and climbs were nearly impossible to do in the Sky Dart. He wanted to see what else the little airships were capable of. The halls of the King’s tower were certainly different than the airship tower and hangar they had come from. Though the upper levels of the hangar were well decorated and beautifully crafted, the hall they were walking into was beyond anything he had dreamed of.

  Long flowing drapes hung from impossibly high ceilings. Small spheres of light danced in and out of them. He assumed they were rimstone, but he couldn’t ever remember seeing the stone float on its own before. He looked over at his father to see if he was awestruck by this sight at all, but Lord Evan continued to walk forward, his eyes ahead.

  Ealrin marveled as they walked, seeing the colors of Rerial displayed prominently above them and along the halls made him feel something deep in his chest. He supposed it was pride. He had once called this nation home. He had even flown the airships of Rerial against an attack on their capital. If all he had were his father’s stories, then he should probably feel a great sense of pride in his nation.

  He was a captain of Rerial, one of the youngest to ever fly.

  Guards greeted them at the large oak doors of what Ealrin assumed was the king’s throne room. They wore the red and black of Rerial, but also had hoods on their heads that Ealrin had not seen on any other guard or soldier of Rerial thus far. He assumed this garb was designated for those who protected the king.

  The one on their left saluted them as they approached.

  “Lord Evan,” he said. “King Belfast is expecting you. Please enter.”

  “Thank you, Emmeric,” Evan responded, saluting in return as the guards pushed the doors open for them.

  Neither guard acknowledged Ealrin, nor asked who he was. He assumed this was because he was with his father. Being the Commodore of the Airship Fleet surely held enough of a status that he could bring whomever he wanted to see the king. That or news of the Fleet Master’s son’s return had spread throughout the capital and they knew it to be him.

  Had Ealrin ever walked through these doors before? They didn’t seem familiar to him. The great hallway didn’t unlock any memories tucked away in his mind. He still felt lost, almost as if he were in a fog.

  Who knew what would trigger his mind to remember?

  Ealrin was surprised to see that instead of a throne, he was greeted with a table.

  King Belfast was standing looking over what appeared to be several unrolled parchments on the table. He looked up with a smile and welcomed Lord Evan by waving him in.

  “I was hoping you would come by today, Lord Evan,” he said with a jovial grin. “I had heard there was cause to celebrate.”

  The king turned his gaze towards Ealrin and grinned.

  “The son of the commodore has come home. And not only that, it seems you’ve caused quite a stir between two nations at peace and nearly caused a war as well!”

  Ealrin found himself unsure of whether to smile at a joke or put on a face of penance. The king let out a hearty laugh and he felt more at ease. Lord Evan turned to face Ealrin with a grin of his own.

  “In other words, your son is back to causing the same kind of stirs he did when he was by your side.”

  “He has come home and I am grateful,” Lord Evan said with a twinkle in his eye. “Though I would prefer he keep out of political affairs if he can help it.”

  Ealrin felt awkward and didn’t quite know how to respond. As if there was some type of inside joke, he was not aware of.

  Both King Belfast and Lord Evan chuckled. Ealrin looked at his father and the old man’s face softened.

  “Perhaps it is not been explained to you, my Lord,” Lord Evan began to say. “But it seems my son has also experienced a great deal of amnesia. He has no memories of his past and is struggling to remember things past three years ago. I’m afraid he’s even forgotten his own sister. So perhaps our jokes about him meddling in international affairs aren’t resonating as well as we would like.”

  King Belfast’s face became somber.

  “You’ve lost your memories?” he asked with a look of concern.

  Ealrin spoke for the first time since entering the king’s room.

  “Yes, your majesty,” he said. “Although I can tell you that I’ve lived enough life in the last three years to make up for any loss of memories. I’ve made wonderful friends and have seen most of the continents of Gilia. I’ve made many friends, though some are separated from us at the moment. We hope to be reunited here in Rerial. But as for my time here in Rerial and on the continent of Redact before the accident, I’m afraid I just can’t remember.”

  The king stroked his chin as he looked thoughtfully at Ealrin.

  “I’ve heard of this affliction before,” he said. “But never have I seen someone who it’s affected. You can’t remember a thing you say?”

  Ealrin shook his head.

  “Sometimes,” he began truthfully. “I have glimpses. Like seeing for a fog. But two years ago, when we ran across an airship, I remembered everything I could have learned about flying. It felt right. Like it was what I was born to do.”

  A smile returned to the king’s face.

  “Never has a truer statement been said!” he exclaimed. “You were our youngest captain and a great loss when you did not return from the dragon attack. I look forward to you serving in our military again soon. Your skills at commanding an airship are unrivaled.”

  Lord Evan cleared his throat.

  “In time,” he said. “Perhaps if Ealrin were to explore more of the capital and his old haunting grounds, more of his memories might return to him. Besides, we are at peace.”

  With the sideways glance at Ealrin, he smirked.

  “So long as my son doesn’t try to undo all of your hard work, my king.”

  “Did I meddle in international affairs before?” Ealrin asked. “I feel like there’s a grand story I’m missing out on.”

  “Let’s just say you weren’t particularly kind to one ambassador from the Court of Three,” King Belfast answered.

  “Granted he did insult my heritage and I believe spoke poorly of your sister. I’m sorry to hear that you have not remembered
her.”

  His expression changed again as he looked down at his maps and his parchments, then back up at Ealrin.

  “I’ve never seen two siblings closer. The treaty we were working on went poorly after that episode I’m afraid, but it was worth it to see a man defend his family so.”

  The king and the Lord Evan exchanged looks.

  “But no worries,” King Belfast said waving a hand. “We are now at peace. Our airships do not fly over the Court of Three and they do not wage any attacks against us. It’s more than I could hope for. A decade or more of war finally over and my father's desire for conflict and expansion has been put to rest. I would much rather rule the kingdom of peace and then one at war.”

  The king look between Lord Evan and Ealrin before rubbing his hands together and coming around the table to stand between them. He put a hand on Lord Evan’s shoulder and reached out his other toward Ealrin.

  “Have your son be escorted around by his sister. I’m sure she can take him to some of their familiar places and may even spark a memory in him. I truly hope your memories return to you, Ealrin. A king needs loyal subjects in times of war and times of peace. I look forward to knowing more of you and your companions who came over with you. In fact, one should be returning shortly from the Court of Three. Which reminds me, I must get back to work.”

  “Tea, your majesty?” a servant asked as he came up bearing an ornate tray. He sat it down on the table on top of the important documents the king had been working on. Ealrin saw the look of surprise come across Lord Evan's face.

  “Who are you?” he asked as he looked at the servant who had brought the beverage. “I’ve not seen you serve the king before.”

  The next two things happened in a flash. The servant picked up a knife from the tray and moved towards the king. Before he even knew what he was doing, Ealrin leapt between them and tackled the man to the ground, sending the tea and cups he had brought with him scattering all over the table top. As they crashed the ground, they shattered, punctuating the shout of rage from the would-be assassin.

  The man let out a shout of fury as he attempted to stab Ealrin in the chest with the knife he had hoped to use on the king

  “Guards!” Lord Evan called. “Guards!”

  They rushed into the room.

  Ealrin saw the fire in the man’s eyes as he threw away the knife and with his free hand, thrust something into his mouth.

  “No!” Ealrin shouted, trying to pry the man’s teeth open. It was too late.

  Before the guards came up and pointed their swords down at the man, his eyes had gone glassy and has skin around his mouth turned purple even as foam formed at the edges. The poison was fast and deadly.

  “Stand down, Emmeric,” the king ordered one of the guards. “It’s over.”

  Before they had been able to ask him a single question, the assassin was dead.

  12: The School of Magic

  Teresa tried to hide the wobble in her legs as they exited the airship and made their way into the magic school of Rerial. Sailing was something she could handle. Flying, however, was an activity she had never enjoyed. The only good thing that came from it was that they could quickly move from one place to the other.

  Other than that, she preferred to have her feet planted firmly on the ground.

  Blume and Urt both walked on ahead of her, seemingly unphased from their perilous flight. They’re happy pilot waved them off vigorously as they entered into the school of magic.

  Speakers in gray robes with red and black stripes on them greeted them as they approached the doors.

  “We had heard that a speaker and princess from the land of Thoran was to come and observe the school of magic today.”

  “It is a pleasure to come,” Teresa said. “This is Blume Dearcrest, a talented Speaker, and Urt, a companion of ours.”

  The two speakers bowed and pointed that they should follow them in. Teresa waved both Blume and Urt to follow as the man continued to speak.

  “We are most eager to have you come and see what we teach our people here...."

  The speaker trailed off as his eyes went to Urt. The Skrilx was following them in just as Teresa had indicated. The speaker stuttered.

  “We do not normally permit servants to come in and see the secrets that we speak of inside these walls,” he said with hesitation.

  “What he means to say is,” the severe looking woman beside him said. “A Skrilx has never entered into our school of magic and never will. Your servant will need to wait.”

  Teresa knew they were visitors in a foreign land. She knew she ought to be diplomatic. But the way that the people of Rerial continued to treat Urt made her skin crawl. Their friend had suffered enough. She refused to make him stay on the platform and simply wait for them to come out. Like a pet.

  “Lord Evan has granted a special permission,” she said. “Urt will do you no harm nor pass along any secrets held within. He is trustworthy.”

  The severe looking woman did not relent. Her partner, however, seemed more open to the idea.

  “We can take them straight to the headmistress,” he offered. “I’m sure she can pass judgment on whether or not the Skrilx can see the rest of the school. I know she is just inside.”

  “Hopefully she will be more accommodating,” Blume said with her arms crossed. “In Thoran, the Skrilx are not look down upon as they are here.”

  Before the woman could respond, both Teresa and the young man began to usher everyone in through the gateway. The princess certainly felt like she wanted to avoid any conflict, but she also did not want to treat Urt like a little pet.

  As soon as they were through the Gateway, scores of speakers in grey robes walked past and around them. The hall of magic was alight with life and activity.

  A large statue in the middle of what Teresa assumed was the main hall of the school dominated the area. It was a speaker in flowing robes with hands outstretched as if casting a spell. The piece towered over them. His hands actually glowed with a soft orange hue.

  “I haven’t seen orange before,” Blume said that she looked up at the statue.

  “Orange is the predominant color of Rimstone in Rerial,” the young man said. “I noticed your green as soon as you came onto the platform. Many people here probably have never seen a color such as yours.”

  Teresa saw the girl put a hand around her necklace. Nations had gone to war over that amulet if she was to believe all the stories. Did the young man truly understand what he was saying?

  “Don’t worry,” he said waving his hand. “No one's going to take that from you. I just meant we could learn from each other.”

  “The headmistresses is this way,” the severe woman said. Teresa could tell she wanted to get them to the person in charge as quickly as possible. Apparently, having Urt around was giving the woman more misgivings than anything. Teresa could see several students had pointed out the Skrilx to their friends. Some others had stopped in their tracks and stared at him.

  It really must’ve been a terrible war they went through for them to react so.

  “Oh!” Blume said as a near the statue. “Look at that!”

  Instead of following the point of their guide, Blume ran forward and examined something at the base of the statue that Teresa couldn’t see.

  Their female guide seemed more than a little annoyed at this detour. Teresa and Urt followed Blume over to the spot she had indicated. Several more students were beginning to stare and point at Urt as they moved to the center of the room. Teresa was beginning to feel more uncomfortable with her decision of forcing him to come with them.

  “It’s runes like in Jurgon’s book!” Blume said pointing out the stone plaque. “Look!”

  Teresa looked down and saw her writing which she could not decipher. The books they had brought from Big Tree and Ladis were rarities at best. Most of the words inside of them she could not discern on her own. Holve seemed to be able to read some of them. But none in their group could decipher them all.r />
  The lettering that Blume was pointing out certainly looked similar.

  The young man who was their guide came up alongside them and looked down and looked what was in the runes.

  “That stone is older than the tower and the statue,” he said. “It’s from the first school of magic that we built this tower on top of. The first line says ‘Fi’ Dash, father of magic and flight.’ That was written in the language close enough to our own common speech and after the first inscriptions. The lines of the rest however, are lost. Since the time of the construction of this tower, no one's been able to decipher the runes. I’m sure the headmistress would be interested in knowing that you would like to research our ancient runes.”

  “Indeed, she would,” said a voice. “And she would like to know why this filthy Skrilx has been allowed to my school.”

  Teresa whipped around, her hand instinctively going for her side. She was disappointed to remember she had left her small sword in the room Ealrin's family had given her. In front of her stood of middle-aged woman with black hair streaked with gray. She wore tiny spectacles and a red robe with black and gray stripes on her sleeves.

  “Hello Mistress Cactus!” the man said. “I need to introduce you...”

  “We will have time for introductions later,” Headmistress Cactus said. “After this cat is removed from the tower.”

  She raised her hand and the crackle of orange magic leapt from her palm directly towards Urt.

  13: Deep Seated

  Blume was ready for the attack and cast a magic shield around them before this older woman could unleash her spell on them. She certainly didn’t want to attack the headmistress at her own school of magic as all of her pupils were standing around. But she would not allow them to be targeted with a spell if it was within her power to stop it.

  The whole world had turning green as they were encased in her sphere of magic. Blume felt Teresa’s hand on her shoulder and expected her to tell her to stop it. She was wrong.