The Forgotten King (Korin's Journal)

by Beam, Brian

  “You’re right,” I conceded. “Again.”

  “I am also hungry.” Max’s small stomach rumbled in agreement.

  Sal’ didn’t even seem to hear what Max had said. Her eyes were focused on the dead soldier. “What did he mean?” she asked quietly. “What did he mean about there being no one to protect us this time?”

  “I do not know,” Max responded soberly. Then, after a slight pause, “Salmaea, have the Wizard Guard start spreading the word that we will likely be facing an attack tonight. We need to inform all who remain in Terafall, so they can either evacuate before nightfall or be ready to face eldrhims.” His attention shifted to me. “I need to speak to Korin alone.”

  Sal’ sucked her bottom lip between her teeth, her eyes pained. “Just what these soldiers need. First they lose half their numbers to zombies, then they’re rescued by dragons, and now they’re going to be told that they may have to face the minions of the god of death.”

  “It’s better than dying due to ignorance of their existence,” I offered with a shrug. The look Sal’ gave me could’ve frozen boiling water in summer. I hadn’t meant my words to be crass, but it looked as if Sal’ had taken them that way.

  “I will meet back up with you shortly,” Sal’ snipped as she started for the door.

  I caught Sal’s arm. Max took the opportunity to scamper from her shoulder to my own. “Sal’, I’m sorry.” I figured an apology was better than an explanation.

  Sal’ gave me a tired smile and patted me on my stubbled cheek. Maybe I was improving on what Max liked to call my “ignorance of the fairer sex.”

  Sal’ left, letting a chilly draft sweep across the room as she closed the door behind her. I retrieved my sword and sheathed it, giving Oreon another glance. Blood still dripped from his face. I was disgusted by my ability to take in the horrid sight of his blackened body with a steady stomach, by just how desensitized I’d become to such horrors. Maybe his death just didn’t seem as grisly with much worse being only a doorway away.

  “Can we really do anything to stop this, Max?”

  “We will not know until we try.” Max’s response was followed by a long pause. “Korin, you were right about one thing: the apparition spoke with your father’s voice.”

  Max’s words stung like salt to a wound. “So my father really is—”

  “Korin,” Max snapped, cutting me off, “my convictions about your father have not changed. Remember, your father is not a wizard. He does not have the ability to do what you just witnessed. However, I want to make sure that if the worst case scenario presents itself, you will be able to handle it.”

  Something changed in me at that moment. I can’t say what exactly. All I can say is that I no longer cared about whether my father was some kind of evil, tyrannical mastermind or not. I no longer cared if he was being controlled or not. I realized that I would do whatever I had to do to save not only the lives of those I cared about, but all the innocent people who were being swept into the war as well. The weight of the world may have been trying to crush me, but I would stand tall against it.

  “Max, I will do whatever is necessary to end this. If I have to kill my own father to do so, so be it.”

  “Korin—”

  “Max, I hope you’re right about him. However, even if you’re not, I’ll still do what I must. This war has to end. If I can’t stop it, then I’ll pave the way for someone else to. I won’t falter if confronted with an untoward truth.” I felt the last of my anger ebb, resolve flowing in its place.

  Max’s shiny black eyes took me in, unblinking. “And I will stand with you, no matter what.”

  I gave Max an appreciative smile. “Let’s get the others, get a plan—”

  “And food—do not forget the food. Preferably something warm and spicy.”

  “Max,” I chastised, gesturing to Oreon’s body.

  “Yes, it is sad, but sadness will not fill my stomach.”

  “Only you,” I sighed, unable to keep the corner of my mouth from twitching into a smirk. The break in the somber mood was welcome.

  “What?” Max countered in mock offense.

  “Furball,” I muttered, turning to the door.

  “Lunkhead.”

  Chapter 48

  Goodbye, Old Friend

  Being faced with what could possibly be my last full day of life before heading to my death the next morning, I found myself yearning to do all the things I’d ever aspired to do. Instead, I spent nearly the entire time planning for the event that would lead to said death.

  There’d be no goodbyes to my adoptive family. No time to have one last gaze across the vast ocean horizon. No chance to see if Sal’ and I had a potential future together.

  It seemed a wastefully pragmatic way to spend my final hours.

  “He’ll be well taken care of?” I asked Khavin, one of the remaining members of Sal’s Wizard Guard squadron.

  “Yes, they all will,” Khavin assured me as two other wizards helped him mount Telis. Telis bucked at the unfamiliar, lithe wizard but settled down once I placed a reassuring hand on his neck.

  Khavin was heading back to the Wizard Academy, having lost much of his right leg and hand during the day’s battle. Though he’d been pulled from the fighting quickly enough for his wounds to be healed with minimal blood loss, no magic could regenerate his lost appendages. Given his new disability, he’d chosen to return to the Wizard Academy, taking some of Terafall’s surviving residents with him.

  Windmane and Briscott’s dappled mare were hitched to wagons carrying a half dozen survivors each, with another four horses doing the same. Telis was hitched to a small wagon as well, this one filled with food and barrels of water.

  I combed my hand through Telis’s shiny black mane. “Be well, my friend. Thank you for everything.” There was a sense of finality with the goodbye, but at least I knew Telis would be cared for upon my death. I felt the cold sting of tears as they were exposed to the winter air. If not for the genuine look of sympathy from Khavin, I would’ve been a little embarrassed. Not everyone understands how animals can become your family.

  Briscott patted my back. “He’ll be all right, Korin. He’s better off leaving with Khavin than being left in this blighted town. Come on.” He spoke with the friendly tone that had caught my attention so many weeks prior in Jefren’s camp.

  “He will be waiting for you at the Academy, Korin,” Khavin said as I allowed Briscott to pull me back from Telis.

  “I may not make it back,” I argued.

  “When you return, he will be there,” Khavin insisted. I wasn’t sure why he had faith in my ability to survive the trip to Bherin, but having no faith in myself, I had to take all I could get from others.

  Khavin kicked Telis’s flank with his good leg. Telis simply looked back at me with large, dark eyes. I flicked my hands forward a few times, prompting Telis to move on without me. I could’ve sworn I saw a glimmer in Telis’s eyes, one that resonated with the same faith that Khavin had expressed. He then started forward at an easy canter, setting the pace for the others.

  Watching Telis disappear around the corner of a house, I wanted to give chase, but I knew that what we were doing was for the best.

  “Come on, Korin. The others are waiting,” Briscott reminded me.

  After the ordeal with Oreon, we’d all taken the time to fill our stomachs with warm food and clean up with near-freezing water. I even had the chance to shave, saving me from having to chance another magic butchering from Sal’. Granted, she seemed to have vastly improved on her magic skills since I’d last seen her.

  We’d also discussed plans for the coming trip to Bherin. We each took responsibility for a certain facet of preparation. Til’ was to gather enough food for the night and following morning. Ithan was in charge of finding us some light armor. Briscott was tasked with securing lengths of rope to use for our flight on the dragons. I’d been put in charge of the horses. Sal’ took it upon herself to ensure that the troops and remaining Wizard
Guard members were prepared for a potential eldrhim attack.

  Max claimed that someone needed to remain in a central location to monitor our preparations—one which just happened to be in another of the still standing houses in front of a roaring hearth.

  As for our plans the next day . . . well, that was really up to the dragons.

  For now, we’d agreed to convene in order to ascertain that our preparations were complete. My reluctance to send Telis away had apparently led to Briscott being sent to haul me back.

  So, with my shoulder bag once again in hand, I followed Briscott back to the house for our final meeting before morning. I’d kept my journal, tucking the pages Saiyre had given me inside it. I’d also kept the small stick and the dragon statue that Til’ had carved for my adoptive father, Mathual. The man who, with his wife Harriet, had taken me in when I’d been sent away from my real parents by Raijom Weist in an attempt to protect my birth father from being killed by my own hands. If my gut was right, and the black apparition had been my birth father, Galvin Lemweir, then Raijom’s efforts may have been in vain.

  And if so, Raijom would be next.

  The frigid breeze stung my freshly shaved cheeks as we made our way to the house we’d commandeered for our meeting. Evening was beginning to stake its claim, while snow continued to sprinkle over us.

  Troops and town residents were working feverishly to clear the dead from the streets. Part of me wanted to help, to absorb myself in a monotonous task that would at least temporarily mask the unadulterated fear spiking through my entire being. On the other hand, each dead—or twice dead—body would be a reminder of what I’d be facing the next day.

  We passed through the carnage, eventually arriving at the squat house we’d utilized as a base of operations. The family who’d owned it was thankfully safe on one of the wagons bound for the Wizard Academy.

  Shaking the snow from my cloak and kicking it from the bottom of my boots, I stepped through the front door with Briscott behind me. The one-roomed, thatch-roofed house was even smaller than the one Oreon had been held in, but without the bloody reminder of the darkness that had befallen Gualain—the darkness that threatened all of Amirand.

  The house had little by means of décor, just a few simple pieces of furniture and plain, wood-paneled walls. In the back corner of the room, the hearth burned bright, with Ithan and Til’ sitting at a small, round table in front of it.

  “By Zieuth’s blood, shut the door before you let out all the heat,” Max greeted with mock rancor from atop the table, throwing his paws up dramatically. At least, I think it was mock. Anyway, Zieuth’s the god of fire. “The least you could do after making us wait so long is to refrain from freezing us to death.”

  Briscott chuckled good-humoredly as he shut the door behind us. In Max’s defense, the room was nice and toasty in a curl-up-and-go-to-sleep kind of way.

  “But then I would’ve missed that cute little dramatic flourish of yours,” I retorted with a smile that belied the pain of my final farewell to Telis. It pulled laughs from everyone but Max, though, so it was completely worth it. We would have little enough to laugh about by the next day.

  “Thin ice, Korin,” Max warned. When he dropped back on all fours, I noticed the Reservoir on his back glowing dimly. It looked like Max had started filling it while we were all out making our preparations.

  Til’ leaned back from the table. “Korin, don’t worry; it’s still warm in here. You should feel how warm the dragons’ caves are in the Snowy Waste. The weather can be freezing outside, but one step into the cave, and it’s like summer. You know, summers in Isaeron were . . .”

  “Are the horses taken care of?” Max asked, speaking over Til’. Til’ continued on as if we were all still paying attention.

  “Yes,” I answered succinctly, not trusting myself to hold back tears if I said more.

  “Then it seems you have all done a splendid job, even if some of us . . .” Max cast a lighthearted glare my way, “decided to drag our feet. Now we should get some food and sleep. We will need to get an early start tomorrow.”

  “Didn’t we just eat about two hours ago?” Briscott questioned, scratching his beard.

  I clapped Briscott’s back. “You obviously still have a lot to learn about Max.” I was smiling yet again, though fear continued to shred my insides.

  “If the town is attacked while we are sleeping, though . . .” Ithan began, letting his words trail off. His voice was laced with fatigue. We all felt the pull of sleep fighting our sense of responsibility to help protect the town and its remaining residents.

  Max’s ears twitched sharply. “Salmaea is ensuring that if any trouble arises within the town’s borders, we will be alerted. If I am to reiterate the need for us to rest one more time . . .” Max let us fill in his threat on our own.

  Ithan held up his hands in placation.

  “Even if we could help,” I added, “it would just be by adding a few extra bodies to the fight. They already know what to expect from the undead and living troops. Sal’s making sure that the signs of an eldrhim summoning are known by those keeping watch tonight and what to do in the case one is witnessed. In the case that eldrhims are summoned from further away, there really is no specific tactic to take them down; all eldrhims are different.”

  Briscott shook his head as he took a seat at the table. “Loranis forbid anyone has to go up against any of those blighted creatures tonight. I still can’t believe the blighted things are real, and I’ve seen them with my own eyes.”

  Max held up his paws for quiet. “More importantly, Til’ brought in more than enough food, so we should go ahead and make sure none goes to waste.”

  We all shared a meal, and our conversation turned to lighter topics. Still, I found myself wanting to leave the confined space to gather my thoughts. Also, I figured I could try to meet up with Sal’ before she returned to the house. Given that even the thought of her helped to distract my troubled mind, having actual time alone with her would hopefully calm my nerves enough to allow me at least a little sleep.

  “I’m going to head out for a bit,” I told everyone, setting my shoulder bag on the floor next to a folded blanket that was supposed to later serve as my bed. With most of Terafall’s survivors either put up in the larger of the remaining residences or being transported to the Wizard Academy, we had the benefit of being allowed the small house to ourselves. There was one real bed, but I wanted to leave it for Sal’. Out of all of us, she probably deserved it the most after all she’d been through.

  Max eyed me dubiously.

  “I just need a little time to think. Otherwise, I don’t think I’ll get any sleep tonight.” Max’s expression didn’t change. “Don’t worry, Max; I’m not going to do anything stupid.”

  “That would sure be a change,” Max replied, relaxing his gaze with a shrug. “Before you go out, you need to try on the armor Ithan procured.”

  I did as Max requested, trying on a worn suit of leather armor that was reinforced with light plating. It felt strange; I wasn’t used to the weight. I pulled out my sword and took a couple practice swings to make sure I still had a full range of motion. I did, and that was good enough for me. The extra protection could very well be necessary the next day.

  So this is what I’ll die in, I thought. Given the blood staining it, I wouldn’t be the first to wear it to my death.

  Max stared at me silently, his eyes filled with what looked like remorse. I knew that even though he felt Raijom had to be stopped, he was scared for what I’d have to go through, what truths I’d discover. He was scared that I’d be hurt or killed. He was afraid of failing to protect me. He wouldn’t voice those feelings, and I wouldn’t assuage his fears with words of assurance. We’d accepted our path. We’d accepted that we would do what had to be done. Words would only make things worse.

  After changing back out of the armor, I started for the door.

  “Try to haul Salmaea back here while you are out,” Max called behind me. “
She needs to rest more than any of us—even me. Also, I will be setting up some minor wards around the outside of the house so that nothing can enter and kill us in our sleep . . . at least, not without us being alerted and ready for them. You should be able to pass through the wards, but just in case, it will be better for you to have Salmaea with you.”

  “What would happen if I set them off?”

  Max stared at me silently for a moment. Then, “You should just find Salmaea before you come back.”

  “It would be a shame if after all this, you were the one to kill me,” I joked.

  Max just stared at me, his expression deadpan.

  I swallowed involuntarily. “Okay, I’ll make sure Sal’ is with me.”

  Chapter 49

  A Night to Remember

  Moments later, I was back in the cold, the clouded evening as dark as full nightfall. The cutting wind prompted me to draw up my hood and tighten my cloak around me. I pulled Saiyre’s ring out from my coin purse, Sal’ having returned it to me in case I needed to find her quickly. I felt it tugging slightly towards the center of the town and set off in that direction.

  The snowfall had thickened, burying the bloody reminders of the battle, save the heaps of bodies that had been piled to be burned. There would be no digging of graves, or even a mass grave, with the hardened ground and the threat of a possible attack on the town. The energy of burying the bodies would be better spent on preparing for the potential battle.

  I took my time following the pull of the ring, attempting to let the cold air cleanse my head of troubled thoughts. It didn’t work. I couldn’t just brush aside the fear of an attack on Terafall during the night. I couldn’t simply forget my concerns about flying on a dragon into a city where my father possibly ruled, a city filled with an entire army of Paigeans, Gualanians, enslaved, and undead.

  And it wouldn’t only be my life on the line. Almost everyone I cared about would be putting their lives at risk because of a prophecy—one that gave absolutely no indication that what we were doing was even right. If not for that stupid prophecy, we wouldn’t be heading into Bherin—just a handful of people and dragons—to pit ourselves against a king and his entire army. The very concept was insanity incarnate.