Epistem- Rise of the Slave King's Heir

by Jani Griot

  “The lion’s share is mine!” Ochloc yelled behind me as I walked to the seat.

  I did as he said and sat in the chair. Murmurs built throughout the room, but I hardly took notice. Besides how subtle the chatter was, I was very caught up in the chair. It was nearly as comfortable as the bed my master had let me sleep in.

  I didn't understand why my lord had offered me such a luxury then. I now know the true worth of the treasure I had claimed for Lord Ochloc. A near-endless amount of gold was to be rewarded to the first lord or lady to claim the kingdom’s jewel. A pot of money added to every cycle for eras to come. Thanks to my actions, Ochloc no longer needed money. As far as the kingdom was concerned, he was money.

  The boy was excitedly speaking in a harsh tone by my side, perched on the step next to the chair I sat in.

  “You just sat down in the Last Comfort. The slaves appointed to head the service sit there, Fury!”

  Sacrifice

  The boy sat on the steps below his companion’s chair. He looked back to see the young slave sleeping. His new charge may have been tall, and more scarred than a war veteran. The only thing the prince may have had over the Fury, was that he’d seen more cycles. While he had seen his fair share of battle, and had murdered many in single fell swoops, he understood the strength of the Fury was immeasurable.

  The boy turned back to the room, focusing his power once more. Over the past day he’d seen his abilities change dramatically. Or at least his control over them had strengthened.

  He’d always struggled to use his abilities during high stress situations, but now he felt something within him changing. Rapidly. He could hear all the voices in the banquet hall at once but with the shift of his perception, he could still focus on a single person. He didn’t know whether it was his control, or his awareness, but he was improving.

  During their underground trials, he’d wanted to help against the lightning beast, and even prior to that when they’d been backed into a corner by the ruse boys. Nothing he’d tried had worked, and he had never felt more like a failure than in those moments. Regardless, the boy behind him had saved his life twice and asked for nothing in return.

  So if the time came when his friend couldn’t defend himself against their betters; he would do so for him. He’d made a vow—even if the result of fulfilling that promise was his own death—and he meant every word. The prince was young but had grown wise quickly due to his father’s treatment of him, especially when compared to his siblings. He didn’t have as many scars as Fury did but being sold more times than he could remember left a different kind of mark.

  When the time came, he would use his powers for his friend, even if it killed him.

  “What was that?” came from the center of the large room. The prince looked up to see an Honorborn girl standing on her chair, pointing, her countenance one of excitement. The young prince looked over and out of one of the many floor-to-ceiling windows of the room. A large flicker of red movement blurred through a nearby cloud, making the prince squint as he tried to discern what he was looking at.

  “It looks like a dragon. An actual, full-fledged dragon from the Sky Kingdom,” said another Honorborn. His sight was affixed to the scene outside the window. The large red beast tore through the sky toward them at a pace that outlined its intent. Wings spread wide, the creature opened its maw as it descended.

  Gasps went up throughout the room as more Honorborn saw the incoming beast. The prince looked back to see the most powerful people in the room shift slightly as the king came to his feet. Khalif, Dara Vivek, and Avery never once shared a look or a single word while staring up at the king, all waiting patiently for their trap to be set.

  “Is this your father’s doing?” asked the king, looking to Khalif for an answer.

  Khalif gave as dismissive an answer as any one man from the Sky Kingdom could give. “Red dragons are wild beasts, and their magics are less controllable than almost any other type of dragon. My father wouldn’t risk letting loose a creature that could come back and wreak devastation across his own lands just to attack your own.” It was an honest answer, from what the boy knew to be true.

  Khalif came to his feet as did Avery, followed by Dara. The rest of the Honorborn moved to rise or attempted to flee. None wanted to show cowardice, as they were Honorborn, but even the dimmest of them understood that a living Honorborn held far more power and influence on the realm than a dead one.

  The room was nearly so silent that the young prince felt as if he could hear the dragon cutting through the air. He came to realize that he was correct, as the windows of the room rattled under the beast’s might.

  The first Honorborn to fall had just won the struggle to stand upright when the spell took him. His upper body slammed against the table with a thud; food spilled from the surface under his weight. As more people in the room looked toward the crash, more fell around them. They fell back into their chairs or sprawled on the ground or table. Asleep.

  “What is this?” said the king. The prince observed as Ochloc peered at those closest to him at the table. He received nothing but looks of confusion and inner dread.

  “Are you okay, brother?” asked Dara. The king regarded his sister with his brow creased, then stumbled a bit before he landed, slumped over against the table. The man blinked heavily as more univers filled the space around them with unseen energies.

  Whoever was left behind in that dining hall (and likely those who had managed to escape) lost balance as well, falling prey to the magic. Avery, Dara, and Khalif remained unaffected.

  A roar shook the walls as the dragon flew over.

  “You know…” was all the king managed to say before a broad smile filled the lines of his sister’s face.

  “What do I know? That you’re going to die here today, that Father picked the wrong heir to his power? What do I know, brother?” said Dara, letting a dry chuckle fill the space between her words. The king was still upright, though propped up only by the table, as everyone else in the room had succumbed to the power of the univers being used. He was unable to speak. Dara approached him.

  “It’s okay, brother. A new age of slaves will begin today, and the first to be sold will be your daughter, or perhaps the woman you call Lady Silence. If she hasn’t been killed by the troops we’ve laid within the walls of the keep. But who knows what I will do, having kings to kill and cattle to claim?” Dara walked around her brother’s back, up to Ezra’s chair, and lifted the drunken girl by the neck before flopping her carelessly at Avery’s feet.

  The young prince stood as the sounds of battle filled the halls surrounding the room. Not all would be mentally weak enough to be affected by the spell, and even less would be affected by the magic being used the farther they stood from the king. Khalif had used this tactic many times to assassinate prominent figures throughout the realm. Now though, instead of stepping aside as he always had in the past, they boy had to stand for something he wanted to protect.

  The king sputtered and spat. He slurred as he, with great effort, spoke. “Our father had valid reasons for keeping slaves subjugated and small minded, the old-blooded must never rise from the sands or—” said Ochloc, doing his best to warn his sister. Dara Vivek laughed before finishing the man’s sentence.

  “Or the gods of the highest realm will descend upon us all and snuff out the light that is life,” she barked. The king fell back in his chair. The young prince knew the fact he was still awake spoke volumes to his might. This spell was strong. He’d seen his brother cast it many times. The king’s aura gave off a pressure like a waterfall as he forced himself to stay as straight-backed as possible.

  “Our father died from the power of his own favored pet, and you now harbor the same vile kin in your own halls. Like father, like son. Or perhaps not. Our father was a god and you are but a small thing. Now, it seems you won’t live long enough to see me use him to sunder the sky itself,” said Dara.

  A hooked chain snapped out from the folds of her robes, wra
pping itself around the neck guard of the king’s chest piece. A strange metal broke the king’s armor as if it were made of glass. Dara ripped away the chained hook, exposing the king’s neckline. His armor, in pieces, fell to the floor.

  “Wait, Dara. Remember that I must perform the ritual for this to work,” said Khalif from atop the table.

  His brother was distracted, so the boy moved closer to his sleeping friend, even though he was unsure of what they would do with Fury once the king was dead.

  Dara scoffed as Khalif put his hand out for her, helping her onto the table. He extended his other hand to Avery. The three stood above the king, looking down as he was forced to look up at them. He opened his mouth to speak but nothing came out. His eyes filled with univers-infused rage.

  Dara lifted her brow, watching the king flatten his palms against the table as if he were going to stand. Avery placed his foot on the shoulder of the king and smashed down with a stomp as hard as he could. Even then the king only slumped slightly further.

  “Sorry, brother, it’s cold in your shadow, and I’d rather come out into the sun in my new kingdom,” said Avery with a chuckle. The boy’s attention was drawn away by the giant dragon flying circles above. There was a rigidity to the creature’s movements he’d never seen in a dragon, especially one of this size. He heard his brother draw his blade. He knew what was to come next and hoped Fury would forgive him for allowing it to happen.

  The sounds of death in the halls filled his ears as slaves died all around their king. He clenched his teeth and tried to breathe deeply, but something behind him was drawing his attention. He looked back to see his ally stirring in his newly appointed chair. The prince located his elder brother, who was watching the unconscious Fury.

  Their eyes met and Khalif called out to him simply, “Kill the boy before he causes any problems.”

  The command was one he could not fulfill due to his vow, nor would he attempt it otherwise. Still Khalif stood, waiting, not moving a single muscle. The boy disobeyed Khalif for the first time in his life (without a magical realm protecting him from the consequences) and gave his elder brother a small shake of the head.

  The three Honorborn looked between one another, before Khalif looked back at the slave, then at his brother again. He shook his head and closed his eyes.

  “Father will be disappointed,” said Khalif, speaking in a way that projected his own feelings onto the Sky king. Khalif gave Dara a malefic look before jerking his head toward the boy’s companion.

  “Are you sure about this? We could use the boy to—” started Dara before Khalif waved a dismissive hand at her, killing any further arguments. The older prince began to speak in Arcana, standing with the point of his sword over the back of the king. The tremendous magic used the power of the king’s own land against him, finally rendering him unconsciousness.

  Dara whistled in such a manner that it drew a group of armored men into the room. At her direction they headed toward the younger prince and his vowed leader.

  It was in that moment that he felt it, surging forward, like his anger as he fought alongside Fury. A twisting sensation of both cold and hot, storming through his chest. The first bolt of red lightning that pierced through the room drew a jagged line across the floor in front of the approaching men, giving them pause. The stone burned and melted away at the edges.

  The prince examined his body. It crackled with red sparks. He then looked at the men who had drawn their blades. The younger prince smirked at his brother. He lifted his hand without turning away from Khalif and pushed out with everything he had. The red light surged forward in a chaotic web of dancing lightning. The bolts burned so hot that everything they touched was incinerated, leaving ash. No bones; not even the armor of the men who had drawn their weapons was left.

  It wasn’t until his younger brother redirected his aim toward him and the other Honorborn that Khalif raised his own hand and intervened. The storm was instantly snuffed out and the young prince fell to his knees on the steps. He tried to hold onto his power as best as he could, but a blaring noise tore a path through the corners of his mind, wiping away thoughts faster than he could produce them. He pushed at the twisting feeling in his center with all he could, trying to ignite something within himself by pushing the energy out in all directions. Univers filled his veins and left him trembling as if in the middle of a seizure. When he was able to momentarily open his eyes, the air was diluted and gray. Only gray. No colors to be seen.

  He blinked through the pain and realized he was somewhere else entirely.

  The young prince surveyed his new surroundings, still trying to hold on to the storm at his center, but the feeling was fading. He heard voices all around him yelling chaotically, surrounding him as he flailed violently in the sands. The light above him was then filled with the face of a blonde-haired girl.

  He heard someone yell, “We’re going back girls!”

  He didn’t know what was happening or what he’d done, but his mind pulled him back to Fury, the one he vowed to protect, and he pushed with all his might against the energy at his core and began violently shaking against the strain of the power he’d used. Then, he vanished.

  He found himself sprawled against the steps of the dining hall; his brother stood above him with his mouth somewhat agape. Or as agape as one such as Khalif would allow their mouth to be.

  He lifted his hand toward his older brother, trying to tap into whatever energy was left within him and shove it all out.

  Nothing came. The strain of univers on his body, paired with Khalif’s magic, crippled the use of his own abilities. He had strained himself far too much to even send a bolt at the chair the king sat in, let alone Khalif or the other Honorborn.

  Khalif, still with his hand raised, released the spell he had focused on his brother to once again concentrate on the ritual that would give him near godlike access to univers.

  Khalif laughed as his brother raised his hand higher in the air, sparking embers of lightning that flickered subtly up his palm. Khalif shook his head. “Such a waste of talent. You will never harm me with your dwindling reserves. If only I’d kept better an eye on you.”

  The younger prince laughed. Then he flipped over to his other side and slapped his friend on the ankle with what energy he had left. A single surge filled the slave with electricity.

  As he injected the slave with the infinitesimal amount of power that still ran through his body, the prince yelled with all he had left, curling into a ball as he did so. His brother’s spell tore through his mind again. The prince looked at the slave, willing him to wake, and screamed the name he’d ascribed him.

  “Fury!”

  The Creed of Service

  I could do the most incredible things effortlessly in my dreams. Running across the desert, I felt nearly weightless. The dunes themselves were at my fingertips if I called. Walls of sand sprung to life to defend me. The sensation felt as natural as movement itself.

  Words woke me.

  “There won't be another chance to strike.” I heard Dara Vivek, but I could not see her.

  “I would have never thought you to be so cut-throat, my Lady Vivek.”

  This second voice was very unfamiliar to me. I opened my eyes to a still grandly illuminated room.

  I registered three things at once: first, nearly everyone in the room was asleep, excluding Avery, Dara Vivek, and a grey-haired, young Honorborn. All three stood over my lord, who had been laid on the table, which still burned in several places.

  Second, the table was lined with Honorborn, excluding the young heiress. I dared not move my body, frozen in fear. My eyes darted around the room. Drunken bodies lay in every direction. None of them were my lord’s daughter.

  Finally, I noticed the boy. He trembled, forcing his eyes shut, gripping both his sword and a bottle of lion’s blood for dear life. He winced as the young lord spoke.

  “By my birthright. By the will of his light that reflects within me, I take the burden of Endless and
Life Luminous,” the young silver-haired noble said.

  The young man then pulled free a blade-less hilt. Water rose from it, morphing, taking shape. As the liquid completed its form, a shockwave sent an icy gust through the air. Now frozen, was a peerless blade. It was so clear it seemed to improve the image of anything it reflected.

  “This burden I take on alone.”

  A formidable light spun around his blade. Still scared and not wanting to move, I slowly reached for the bladeless sword hidden in the cloak. My blood boiled the instant my fingertips touched it. Its red aura seeped from the cloak, stretching farther and farther. A sparking storm cloud was forming with me at its epicenter.

  The noble continued speaking, no one noticing the quickly growing threat. “May the enemies of univers die for my family's honor!”

  He lifted the blade high above his head as my anger built.

  My violent wail broke the three’s focus as I charged through a living darkness that had encroached upon nearly half the room, swallowing objects in a way that made one wonder if they would be there when the darkness left.

  “What in the name of—“ Avery started as I broke free of the dark cloud, soaring through the air shield-first. Sparks flew, dangerously free of the object I held before myself as my leap carried me well above the three eager assassins standing atop the table.

  The silver-haired young man grinned. He removed one of his hands from his sword. A glimmering wave of force soared toward me. It was as if I had jumped into the grasp of a giant invisible hand attempting to swat me from the air.

  I had never leapt so high. The height of my jump gave me enough time to react to the actions of my foes.

  I roared as I smashed into the translucent veil. My arm nearly gave out. The shield with the lion’s face roared along with me, the energy of the attack circled the shield in a torrent, until the resistance eased. It slowed my fall only moderately, allowing me to swing my arm free, the momentum of the enemy’s attack redirected.