Epistem- Rise of the Slave King's Heir
Page 19
“This boy really does have some fight in him. I wonder—” Avery said as he stepped forward.
The wave of energy flew out once more, spinning violently toward Avery after I swatted it down with my shield. None of the three expected this, so none tried to defend against it. They did, however, appear rather shocked.
Avery took the attack head-on, unaware of the torrential energy hurtling toward him. It struck him immediately, catapulting the man's body from the table.
Dara, however, I'm not entirely sure about. She seemed more furious than confused. Only then was I able to see it; Dara's open-mouthed surprise shifted to anger as Avery's body struck the wall of the grand hall with a slam. Her guard now up, she vanished, leaving a wisp of water in her wake.
The youngest of the three Honorborn was the hardest to read, smiling as he chanted away. Bringing the blade higher as he stretched his long limbs.
I landed on top of my lord, bringing the shield up fast enough to block the young man's downward strike. Blade met shield with a resonant hum, the two objects’ power rang out so immensely the event seemed to freeze time itself.
On my honor, I bleed for my name. Khalif Kaiser Vassilious!
The words tore into my mind. Light pulsed from the shield I held and began to buffet the young man with waves of energy and lightning. Until I was blinded by an eruption of light and deafened by the sound that came with it.
I opened my eyes to see the three Honorborn on the far side of the room, the infringing darkness swelling at my back. The younger man spoke, patting his torso free of flames as he did.
“We didn't account for the boy. We don't have much time before the effects wear off. Looks like we have a few more hurdles to clear before our ascension. Besides,” Khalif chuckled softly as he looked between Avery and Dara. "Ochloc may not die today, but we have his daughter.”
The Sleeping Lady
Khalif wore a mischievous smile. The two other Honorborn shot looks of annoyance or, in Dara’s case, a somewhat malicious indifference, toward Ochloc.
Khalif spoke first. “Dara, I need you to handle the boy. I cannot be seen here. The univers I’m using cannot keep all of Vassilious asleep forever. Then there’s the matter of Princess Ezra. Avery needs to get her offshore. Furthermore, we can't have this old-blooded garbage slowing Avery’s progress. So, the sooner he is dealt an endless sleep, the better. Understand?”
Dara didn't normally accommodate those whose tongues lacked respect for her grand intellect. “You would be wise to watch your words, young Thinker. Your usefulness runs dry the moment we know the final piece to the ritual…”
Dara's eyes rolled from my lord to me, the roiling darkness still filled the space. She pointed to the open door on the far side of the room.
“Leave,” she said, with a vicious, silky tone that would have stopped me dead a few days prior. “I will hang you from the rafters. My hooks will meet your eyes and it will be too late, little treasure.” She smiled as a copy of herself stepped free of her body to mirror the woman in both visage and composed deadliness.
“You dare lift your blade to an Honorborn?” She smiled wickedly. Her clone mimed her speech soundlessly, lips moving with the slow cadence of refined speech.
“It seems I still can't get the vocal strings formed correctly,” Dara observed. Her voiceless doppelgänger bent down to lift a goblet of laced Lionsblood.
I glanced at the doorway to see Avery backing out of the room, his glaring eyes fixed to us, as if he didn't want to miss a thing.
The young Khalif drew my attention for a moment too long, his lavish exit something I would expect from my lord and lady. The air whipped around him in a torrent that seemed to break his body down into sand and lift it away. He winked at me with a smile and a point of his sword, then vanished entirely.
“Has your lord ever shown you how Honorborn compose themselves in battle?”
The hook's sharp edge sliced through my shirt; the cut it made was shallow but burned me back into a state of pure awareness. I looked back at Dara. Her clone was stepping off the table, gulping from the goblet as she returned to her seat.
“You must protect yourself, boy. If not, you will die, as will your lord and his children, and the rest of Vassilious, for that matter.”
Dara spoke at me. The words flowing around me were misunderstood and fleeting in their objective. She wouldn't be able to scare me. No individual could. I knew nothing of death.
“I will make this easy for you, boy. Leave your master and join the Honorborn rebellion. You can spy for me and I will give you all the luxuries of a king.”
I gripped the sword handle tighter and tighter, my knuckles turning white and pink. Dara saw the slight motion and unwound her weapons.
“We don't have to do this, boy. I don't like wasting valuable tools. You have shown your value through your own honorable path, just put those weapons—”
I roared at Dara as I charged, cutting off her speech. Chains fell from the sleeves of her robes. “I guess I will be the one to tutor you in the ways of royal combat.”
I ran down the table toward her, screaming my violent war cry. I stepped on plates full of feast and untouched banquet.
The crimson surface of the blade I held reflected the face of Vola, who stood, staring at the cloud behind me. My glances in the ghostly man’s direction seemed to work in my favor, acting as feints in Dara and my exchanges. More powerful words filled me with vigor as I fought, coming seemingly from the same man in the armor I wore; The voice grew more familiar as he spoke.
I don’t know how you have done it, but you have pulled on a tremendous power, my son. You must use this boon or the consequence of using so much univers will kill you before it can save you.
What was odd was the man’s voice itself. It came with as much power as when my master spoke to me filling me with rage, but somehow it soothed me with its subtle intensity, as if Almarine was the one instructing me. Words rounded with unexplored emotions, caused me to move with more caution as chains twisted around me in a torrent forcing me to dodge, even more accurately as I tried to slowly advance.
Yes, my son, do not allow her a single moment without pressure.
Dara closed her eyes, shaking her head slightly. She had moved so quickly to the opposite end of the table I was forced to run after her once more. I raised the shield as I neared her.
I took a heavy anchoring step just inside her reach, but the haymaker shield swing I attempted was wide and unbalanced. Dara sidestepped the attack perfectly. She followed the shield’s rim as it nearly touched the bridge of her nose. The amount of effort she used to dodge my hit was comparable to a person turning to their side.
Dara looked at me with a tight-lipped grin. “Hmm…”
She hit my side so hard with her counterpunch, I felt ribs break, the blow sliding me slightly backward. I rotated my upper body back toward her, taking a swipe with both the sword and shield; she dodged both attempts with another solitary motion, ducking underneath them, taking a low and wide stance.
“You can't have training. Was my brother telling the truth of you, boy?”
Her second punch was so powerful it lifted me from the table momentarily. I landed on a standing goblet. The cup’s lip collided with my sternum with a thud. I tried to roll away as far as I could, not caring if I fell from the table. I just needed the space to collect myself and reorganize my assault.
Clang!
My shield arm vibrated as the chain that was now fastened to it pulled taught. Secured in place by a hook that punctured my armpit.
“You cannot flee me, boy.”
The chains emerged further from her sleeves, an action which lifted me into the air, above the table.
“I am Dara Vivek. Rightful Queen of Vassilious. Empress of Hourglass Kingdom. I cannot be felled by a simpleton!”
As the other chain wrapped around my leg, two more chains freed themselves from the concealment of her sleeves.
“Normally, I don't think I w
ould have been able to harm you with my weapons. The slave relics you wear only have one weakness.”
The hooks of the new chains danced menacingly in front of me. They had a glinting, ruby red attribute that seemed familiar to me.
“This was smelted from blood sands, boy. The same material you wear. Honorborn would lose their minds if they knew its strength overshadowed lion steel. Infused with sunlight... destroyed by sunlight!”
She smiled as she began her work. I flailed about, recklessly trying to bat away the hooks that moved toward me like snakes in the grass. My sword was the only thing between my safety and Dara's intentions.
I screamed as another hook took dominion over my sword arm. She pulled me toward her, as the final hook tore open my shirt, exposing my chest.
“You don't seem to have the mark of Vassilious. How would you like my mark, child of sands?”
I screamed and swung as much as my restricted limbs would allow. The chains tightened as they squeezed the life from my extremities. The hook felt cold against the angry heat of my skin.
“Let’s see if Ochloc still treasures you after this.”
She cut into me with the steady hand of a true artist. I screamed through all eight slits that formed an hourglass, tilted to its side, on my chest. My mind went as cold as the instrument being used on me. Something was brewing inside me, a sensation that numbed my body but lit my mind with a silent blaze. I did not scream as she finished her work.
A bottle flew from the giant cloud behind me and struck Dara hard in the temple. She looked at the black mirror as flickering lights danced in the space. A milky spiral of blood-red spun its way through the structure.
“It seems you do fight as the Honorborn do. How many allies can you have concealed in this living darkness?” she asked, still staring at her reflection in the storm cloud of the black mirror.
Dara sent out her last, unhindered chain, swiping its seemingly endless length through the moving darkness like a giant whip. It passed through the cloud, and only half its original length emerged. The links turned to sand as she retracted the weapon.
“What is this?” She stood confused as the cloud swallowed me, releasing me from her shackles. She stepped backward, a look of uncertainty on her face. Dara’s clone made eye contact with her just as the cloud reached the table at which the double sat. The illusion dissolved into a puddle of water in the chair, its goblet of sleeping poison rattling to the floor, no longer held up by a lady noble.
“What is this, boy? Answer me!” Dara yelled before whistling to her men-at-arms who stormed into the room from their varying locations.
Some came in from the ceiling, through lifted panels. Some came in through the doorway. Others stood from their acting positions as drunken guards already in the room. This must have been Dara's back-up plan. As this was our first encounter, I wasn't aware of her tendency to harbor more than one way to go about her goals. She was a master planner, something I was far from.
“Don't let him leave. Surround that cloud and bring him to me,” Dara yelled at her men.
I've never felt anything like what I lived through in the next few moments. It was as if my mind were both asleep and aware. I could no longer feel the pain at my chest, but I could hear the heartbeats of the men surrounding me, like a room full of wild drums. I couldn't tell where my arm ended and the sword I held began, or where all the blood that flowed down the blade came from. But I could smell the apprehension of everyone in the room. Even the boy, who was not by my side before, but who now stood next to me within in the dark cloud.
I roared. This time felt different. It sounded different as it came out of me. More animal than anything. The cloud grew larger instantly, as if hearing my call. The men that surrounded it were quickly consumed by it.
The first screams came quickly. My body moved on its own. One man lost an arm before his throat was closed by the shield. Another lost his shield hand as the boy cleanly lopped it off. My foot caved in another man’s knee, before the lion shield dismantled the bridge of his nose. The fight left his eyes instantly.
The men panicked, as none of them could see each other, or anything for that matter, in the black and red mist. Men ran into one another, others slew their kinsmen, afraid of the glinting shadows. The boy and I killed as many men as had fled or slayed their own companions.
“What in Ark's purest protection are you fools doing? Kill him!” Dara stepped off the edge of the table as the cloud continued to swell. She fell backward, landing on her rear end, nearly sprawling as she tried to get to her feet. I was already in the air, soaring out of the cloud toward her. Nothing could stop me.
“No, don’t!” She screamed up at me as I fell toward her. I raised my shield to strike as a familiar sensation wrapped around my leg. She smiled at me before she spat in my face.
“Goodbye, little slave.”
All peril left her face, replaced by cold treachery. The chains swept me off my feet and forced me up, before launching me to one side of the room, smashing me into a wall. More men fled as the boy killed with abandon inside the darkness of the room.
I was sent on another trip across the room, before being slapped up against another wall. The moving cloud of night faded slightly as Dara smashed me into the side of the table, then dragged me across the surface.
“I’ve had enough of this!” Dara screamed before spinning, her chains wove around her. She yanked me through the air in a whirlwind for a moment, before she slingshot me out of the room through one of the many glass panels above. I landed like a sack of stones on the roof of the grand hall.
I made it to my feet and over to the hole I’d just been violently bashed through to peer inside. The entire scene seemed to have shifted. Dara was gone. The cloud returned to the cloak through the hole, as if the glass had been separating air from the vacuum of space. The boy looked up at me, pulling his blade from a man’s shoulder.
“Fury! Dara and Avery have fled, and they’ve taken Lady Ezra. If Ochloc wakes to dead guards, his daughter missing, and no one to defend our actions, we're fucked!” he screamed up at me.
That bad word. I’d heard it before. Most often from the Royal Guard when the king was not present. What I knew of it was that it was either something one certainly didn’t want to be. Or a thing one desperately needed to do.
“I’m grabbing horses. We must get to Avery's ship before he sets sail.”
The boy was out of the room in seconds. I had no idea what he was so passionate about. In the briefest moment before my eyes left the room, I again saw the armored man, the cloak that coated him, and the white gold material parted just enough that I could see his armor. His hood covered his eyes and he shook his head as he frowned. Still he clapped and the words that flowed into my mind kept the same tempo as my master’s, even if they came with an odd energy rather than pain.
I just wanted to rest, lay on the sandstone and close my eyes. Then, I saw her face. Teary-eyed and bound, ropes securing her body to Avery's horse. I ran to the edge of the roof and fell toward the railing. I reached out as fatigue took me and I careened over the edge.
Death Defying
The girls crouched outside the grand dining hall of their new home. Within the hall, an assassination plot had been carried out. The blonde-haired ruse boy had been forced to wake her comrades from some sort of magically induced sleep, after only experiencing a subtle headache as the effect took the keep.
“So, the old-blooded slave is fighting against my Lady Dara?” questioned the brunette before once again feeling a sense of loss. Ochloc had traded the entire group of ruse boys after finding the Sun Lion Diamond. Every cycle, the Honorborn gathered for an impossible trial, placing bets larger than their wealth, feeling they would never have to pay. Who would truly be able to find a long dead plant whose rumored power could rip open the very sky?
The blonde watched as the master of univers slung Ochloc’s slave by the ankles across the room. Chains slammed the boy into nearly every obstacle.
“He’s not hitting her or anything so promising, but she seems to truly be wary of his strikes,” the blonde whispered. She glanced over to the still sleeping Ochloc. He would be her new master since Avery had lost most of his acquired fortune to the king. She sighed. Just another bargaining chip. Or that’s what they all thought she was. She was more.
The man slept peacefully at the head of the table, unaffected by the battle around him. The room flooded with Dara’s guards at one point and the man only adjusted his head on the table’s hard surface, undisturbed by the rampaging men and women.
“What should we do?” questioned the twins.
The blonde shook her head before responding simply, “I don’t know.”
It wasn’t until the redhead began swatting frantically at the blonde that she was able to find the ability to look away. When the blonde looked back at her teammate, the girl was both staring and pointing off into the distance. She looked to where the girl pointed and was shocked to see the king’s head slave wobbling on her feet across the sands. Blood-soaked and walking with the handle of a blade protruding from her stomach.
The girls watched wordlessly, and the scene from their hiding position grew worse as the plot on the kingdom unfolded.
The almost lifeless head slave was ignored as she staggered, dying on her feet. The prince, atop his horse kicked past the woman, coating her with sand as he trotted by. He glanced back momentarily. Aemillious was quickly met by Avery and the pair rode off together.