by Jeff Gunzel
“I would move the stars to see my title surrendered,” Eric growled, his blazing sword working feverishly. Each swing had his full power behind it, attempting to shatter right through his foe’s steel. “A fish cannot become a lion, no matter how badly he wishes it so. I am what I am, whether I wish it or not!” He swung again, cutting deep into the stone next to the madman’s head, emphasizing his point. “And the gods bear witness to my promise to you. This is the last time we’ll ever meet.”
In full retreat, the man in white scrambled up the final steps and stood at the top of the mountain. Here, the space was wide open. The men with shaved heads backed away, yet still watched curiously. “The last time we’ll ever meet, you say? That much we can agree on.”
He threw his hands in the air. Lightning flashed all over the sky. It was nearly blinding. Golden doorways formed all around them, enclosing them in a circle of light. Black, catlike creatures sifted through the openings. Flat headed, with yellow eyes perched high on their foreheads, the growling dark creatures began creeping towards Eric.
* * *
Jade’s blades worked in furious stabbing, slashing movements, clashing against Morita’s steel. Colorful sparks bloomed out in all directions, creating a light show similar to the stormy sky. Morita’s flesh wounds were already beginning to close, but new ones were appearing at an alarming rate. How long can this human keep such a pace?
Desperate to turn the battle and regain the upper hand, Morita twisted in place, firing out a deadly heel kick. Jade rolled to the side while the foot crashed into the stone behind her. The crushing kick sunk deep into the stone, crunching rock like brittle ice. The wall cracked outward in all directions, deep lines resembling a spider web. The force would have easily killed Jade, but the miss still accomplished exactly what Morita wanted: separation between herself and this dangerous assassin.
Jade completed a dive roll, then sprang back to her feet. She turned back, steel in hand, determined to keep the pressure on. But before she could blink, her feet slipped out from under her, her body sailing through the air. She crashed against the stone with a jarring thud, all the air instantly forced from her lungs. Again she felt her suspended body pulling away from the wall. Slowly floating through the air with her arms and legs stretched outward, she resembled a drifting crucifixion.
Morita cackled, her long, grotesque tongue flapping around wildly in her excitement. With her hands stretched out, eyes glowing green, she flung her helpless opponent back against the stone. Jade crumpled to the ground, her body burning with pain. Morita had determined this skilled mortal was not one to cross blades with. I’ve had my fun with this one. No sense in taking any unnecessary chances. Best to just finish her off from a distance.
Morita took a moment to gather her strength. All her Chi was summoned from deep within her. Her eyes blazed a brilliant green, her hands dancing with energy. All at once, Morita released a torrent of energy, intent on driving Jade through the stone behind her. But instead of turning Jade to dust, the energy split to either side, the way a river parts around a stone. The violent force slammed into the wall behind, crumbling a fair amount into gravel. Orange dust rose up in a dry, choking cloud, obstructing Morita’s vision. She strained her eyes, gazing into the dust cloud, trying to see what had just happened. What went wrong?
A dark outline surfaced from the cloud. “It can’t be,” Morita whispered to herself, watching the dark figure draw nearer. The dy-chita on Jade’s forehead glowed a brilliant green, her gleaming eyes mirroring the same light. Her wild, dark hair feathered upward, frayed and staticky. Lightning flashed multiple times in a row, briefly revealing her sadistic expression: lips curled back in a snarl, drool flowing freely. Morita took a step back from the harrowing sight. She’s not human.
“Why are you here?” Jade growled, her steps slow and deliberate while stalking her prey.
“I-I,” stuttered Morita, continuing to back away.
“Because you blindly follow the man in white, like a lost sheep. That’s why. It is you who are the pet, not I! I will protect the Gate Keeper until the day my body no longer draws breath. I do it because I choose to. I do it because I love him, and in order to stop me, you will have to kill me!”
Solid green light fired from Jade’s hands, bathing Morita in its brilliance. She immediately warped her Chi, twisting it into a defensive shield, but Jade’s power was astonishing. Her feet began to slide backward along the stone. “Impossible,” Morita screamed in a strained voice, her flesh beginning to sear and steam, her shield withering, disintegrating under the pressure. “You can’t be stronger than me. My power was a gift from— You can’t— It’s not possib—”
Her shield shattered like glass in a burst of white and green crystals. Launched into the air, her smoldering body was flung over the side of the mountain. Morita’s screams could be heard for miles as her plunge off the mountain seemed to go on forever.
* * *
The beasts came at Eric from every angle. He whirled Spark with skill and precision, sending them into the afterlife one after another. The sickly sweet scent of burnt flesh filled the air, his blade feasting on muscle and bone.
Instinct alone warning him of the danger, he spun back, his blade intercepting black steel at the last second. The madman cackled, pressing forward with impossible strength. Eric pushed off, shedding the stronger man and creating some distance. An explosion of pain shot up his leg. Long, sharp teeth sank deep into his calf. With a whirling slash he dissipated the cat, but the damage was done. Blood flowed from the open wound.
The madman lunged in again, blades whirling and slashing with ferocity. Eric blocked each strike, steel crashing against steel, but braced for what he knew was coming. A set of claws tore into his back while a second bite took a chunk from his side. He screamed at the searing pain, then turned back on the cats.
He slashed one across the face, its lower jaw coming unhinged. It crumpled to the ground like so many others had. The cats’ bodies were everywhere, forming mounds of steaming pieces of heads and legs. Two more cats leapt back and joined the others, circling patiently like sharks, waiting for their next opportunity. At least another two dozen remained.
Eric cried out shamelessly when black steel penetrated the back of his shoulder, protruding out his front. The man in white began to twist his blade, moving it from side to side. Eric tried not to scream again, but the white-hot pain was beyond anything he’d ever felt. Unable to remain standing, loosing blood at a rapid clip, he fell to his knees, his left arm dangling limply. “I could make this quick and painless,” said the madman, grinning widely. “But what fun would that be? I have the mighty Shantie Rhoe right where he belongs: down on his knees, worshipping the true Shantie Rhoe.”
Eric knelt there helplessly. His hair was soaked with sweat, matted down over his eyes. Multiple open wounds pumped out blood, soaking the ground around him. “I’m still going to kill you,” he mumbled, the soft, gurgling words barely audible.
With a final twist, the madman ripped the blade free, causing Eric to double over from pain. Eric placed his other hand on the wound, applying pressure. He looked around at the bald men who had witnessed this entire fight. They watched on, expressionless and emotionless. He tried to get up, but fell back down to one knee.
“What drives you to fight on?” asked the man in white. “You know it is hopeless. An insignificant worm like you could never beat me. The people closest to you did nothing but feed you lies. Don’t you understand that yet? You are nothing special, and never were.” The cats circled closely around Eric, waiting for their master to give the order.
With a second effort, Eric pushed off the ground, hobbling up to his feet. Wiping the bloody hair from his eyes, he stared at the madman, ignoring the surrounding beasts hissing and growling. His voice was soft and controlled, “ I fight on because there is no other choice. I am the Gate Keeper, and I was born to kill men like you.”
His eyes began to glow a golden yellow. His multiple wound
s began giving off a strange soft, milky, white light that made it seem as if his blood had changed color. A translucent cloud of white vapor drifted up through one of his wounds. It hovered in the air for a moment, then whirled around him like a mini tornado.
Flash
Instantly, Eric’s head was filled with memories not of his own. A blademaster’s memories, from a time long forgotten. Ancient sword techniques, forgotten by scholars centuries ago. The gaping wound mended, sealing itself shut. Another cloud of mist floated up from a second wound, then spun around him.
Flash
More memories filled his head. More forgotten skills, gifted to him by the fallen spirit. A man who once believed he was the Gate Keeper. A ghost now seeking redemption.
In spirals of white, clouds of mist began to leave his body, each healing the wounds they exited from. They spun around in a flurry of white, each lending their knowledge, giving their skills to the one who had truly earned the title. Eric’s eyes shone brightly in the dim light. His charred tattoos gleamed with golden light, crackling with energy.
“Kill him!” roared the madman, slashing his hand in the air. The first wave of cats rushed in, snarling and clawing, hungry for blood.
Calm Waters: Spark flashed around him in an intricate display of whirling slashes, leaving a trail of fire, ash and flesh. It was an ancient technique used to fend off multiple foes at once, a technique he had never learned before, or even heard of. Ears, snouts, and legs rained down around him in a bloody downpour.
Sleeping Scorpion: Eric calmly sat down on the ground, his legs crossed, looking relaxed. With his sword pointed straight up in the air, eyes closed, he appeared to be completely vulnerable. Smelling blood, the second wave of beasts rushed in. At the last second, eyes still closed, he swept his blade around his head in one complete circle, then brought it back to rest, holding it high above him. Throats opened, spraying blood; the surrounding cats wilted to the ground, a few still gurgling, long, wet tongues hanging out.
Eric’s eyes popped back open, still radiating light. Leaping up to his feet, he whirled his blade around his back, slicing two more he couldn’t have known were there. His hate-filled eyes locked on the man in white. Even with the remaining beasts diving at him with reckless abandon, he ran straight for the madman.
Ancient Tree
Foaming Sea
Gliding Hawk
One after another, the lunging beasts tasted the edge of his sword as he performed ancient techniques masterfully, born from memories that were not his own. Executing kill after kill with breathtaking efficiency, he pressed forward. Eric wanted the madman’s blood, and nothing would stop him this time. “Once again you have underestimated me,” shouted Eric, slashing open the last of the cats and picking up speed. “Now you will witness the standards of the Gate Keeper!”
Eye’s wide with terror, the man in white ripped at the air, quickly forming a doorway. In desperation, he bolted through. It began to snap shut before Eric could reach him. “No,” he whispered, reaching out his hand, then spreading his fingers open. “You will not escape me again.” Having closed to the size of a fist, the doorway pulsed like a tiny heart, then snapped back open by pure will of the Gate Keeper.
Eric dashed through, the doorway shutting behind him. He found himself on an old stone bridge, brittle gray rock crumbling with each step. Down below was a river of thick, red liquid. Hands and screaming faces bubbled up from the red ooze. They begged for mercy, pleading for someone to stop the pain. This dimension must have been some sort of purgatory for these lost souls. A black void, lost somewhere between the living and the dead. The man in white turned back, hands in the air. “No. No, I… How did you follow me here?”
Eric stalked forward, his sword still hungry, even after feasting on so much flesh. Its appetite was insatiable. “I warned you never to cross me again,” said Eric, his voice echoing through the eternal emptiness of this place. “It seems that warning has fallen on deaf ears. Tell me, madman, are you going to beg for your life? All the innocent people you’ve killed—women, children—tell me, did they beg for their lives as well?” His voice boomed, an inhuman rumble. “Did you grant them mercy?” He approached the kneeling man, looming over him like a giant while he cowered against the rail.
“Wait! Wait,” he cried, appearing small and insignificant, cradling his head with both hands. “Don’t kill me. We can join our forces. Together, united as one, no one could ever stand in our way! The gods have given you a gift. One you cannot waste on righteousness, or the illusion these humans call freedom. You and I were born to dominate those lesser than us.”
Eric looked down at the man, pity in his eyes. The flames pulsing down his sword extinguished with a light crackling. He slid his weapon back into its sheath. Hoisting the pitiful creature back to his feet, he whispered in the madman’s ear, “That thinking, my friend, is exactly why I cannot let you live.”
With a shove, he sent the man over the side of the bridge. His shrill scream echoed all the way down, until he splashed into the red ooze. The madman re-emerged, choking, trying to spit the thick goo from his mouth. Slime-covered hands grasped at his flailing body, pulling him down into the blood-red river. Hairless faces covered with red ooze rose up and bit into his flesh, tearing and ripping until he dipped back below the surface.
* * *
A golden doorway ripped the air. Eric stumbled through, then fell to his knees. The men with shaved heads were all still there, looking down at him with blank expressions. Each of them wore flowing, orange garments, with a slash of purple across the chest. Eric’s body had been pushed far beyond its limits. With heavy eyes, he looked up at them one last time before collapsing onto the stone.
The men exchanged silent nods with one another. Two stepped forward, collecting his unconscious body. They carried him on a primitive-looking cot made of sticks and vines, then walked over to a large bell seated within a small stone tower. In front of the bell was a thick log, strung up with rope. Two more men approached the log and pulled back the rope. When they released it, the log crashed against the bell, sending its piercing song out across the desert. Using the log, they rang the bell nine more times.
It is said when the Shantie Rhoe is named, the skies will be bathed in light. The Mountain of Dreams will drop its veil, presenting its true form to the world once and for all.
On the tenth toll, a brilliant ray of blue light fired up from the tower, striking against the black, cloudy sky. Lightning began to flash incessantly, lighting up the sky as if the gods themselves were at war. A single bolt crackled downward, striking the side of the mountain. It ripped away bits of stone, scattering a spray of red-hot pebbles into the air. Another struck the other side, then another and another. The Mountain of Dreams was suddenly being torn apart by nature’s wrath. Stone fragments cascaded in all directions while the stormy onslaught continued.
After a final bolt crashed near the top, everything went quiet. The light from the tower faded away, the blazing skies now quiet and calm. Many of the men looked over the side, gazing down at the shocking transformation. The mountain had become squared off with four flat sides. Carved directly into those newly shaped cliffs were ancient symbols, similar to those burned into the Gate Keeper’s arms.
The ancient stories were true. The Mountain of Dreams had revealed its true form. The Shantie Rhoe had been named...
* * *
Seated on a mound of straw, Ilirra leaned back against the cold stone wall. A single oil lamp hung from an iron hook just outside of her cell. It flickered a dim but welcome light. Wearing nothing but a torn brown tunic, she was filthy and covered with soot. She had been forced to stay in this cell while Filista carefully integrated her band of crytons into the city’s political system. But that was not the thing that hurt her most. Her monarchy had been given away, and no one had the right or power to dispute that. She did what needed to be done, and there was no room for regrets.
But the looks on people’s faces when the crytons
had marched up to Taron’s walls... Queen Ilirra Marosia, hands bound behind her back like a common thief. The expressions of horror on the children. Men at arms lined along the great wall, dropping their weapons and lowering their heads in shame. The look on Azek’s face when he met them at the gate, forced to allow them to parade their prize through the streets of Taron.
These were the lingering images that would haunt her the rest of her days...
She heard footsteps and the jingling of keys just outside of her cell. A moment later, the door opened and Filista stepped into view. Covered in fine gold jewelry with her hair pulled back, she wore a long, yellow dress. With her was the short cryton. He still did not look comfortable with the idea of being her interpreter. She hissed and popped a few guttural words to him, but kept her eyes on Ilirra.
“You must come with us now,” he said, avoiding Ilirra’s eyes. “Before the torch can be passed, the people of Taron must see you in a certain ‘light’ for them to fully accept the coming change in leadership.” Filista added a few more words. “Do not worry. The temporary disgrace is just for show. No harm will come to you.”
Ilirra held the confident woman’s gaze but said nothing. Filista gazed back at her curiously, then muttered something else. “You’ve abandoned your crown, all for the sake of saving the lives of a bunch of commoners,” he repeated. “You’ve lost everything. Don’t you have anything to say to me?”
Ilirra’s lips tightened, the hint of a smug smile slowly creasing her face. “Why would I ever second-guess your actions? After all, you are now my queen.”
Filista’s grin faded with each word while the man translated. With a huff, she snapped her fingers, then turned away. Two more crytons entered the cell. One hoisted Ilirra off the ground, the other pulled a black sack down over her head. They bound her hands, then guided her away. She heard the loud bang of the cell door shutting behind her.
Covering her face had been the same trick they used to bring her down here in the first place. She really wasn’t sure which cells these were. After walking for a time, they stopped, then hoisted her up onto some sort of platform. Following the unmistakable feel of a noose tightening around her neck, a soldier spoke softly, “Forgive me, my lady. My orders came straight from the Qu—” Choking up, he couldn’t even finish his sentence.
