“How can this be?” Flint asked. “Just a few hours ago this boy was revered as a hero, a force for justice, and now this! Razzius never mentioned any of this abuse to either me or Bryce.” Flint noticed the multitude of empty liquor bottles, and cringed as the story of his newly appointed Knights rang true. Razzius was no Knight; he was nothing more than a murderer. Flint turned to Lawrence and Benni who stood ready at his side, awaiting their orders.
“Our watchtowers will be on constant lookout. You two are to lead a scouting party and look for that murderer!” Flint shouted in anger. He felt betrayed and deceived. “If you find Razzius, you are to take one of two actions: Arrest him and bring him back to Haile with you, or…” Flint stopped and stared at the dead body of Wurn Grimm for a while. “Kill him!”
***
Kill him!
Kill him!
Kill him!
The words repeated in the two Knights’ minds as they sat together later that night at the barracks. In all of their training Benni and Lawrence had never actually taken a human life. How were they going to take the life of the man who was once one of their closest friends?
Lawrence struggled to sleep that night, wondering if his father had ever faced anything like this. He tossed and turned as the thoughts of the possible battles to come frightened him. A familiar feeling of doubt came across him as Lawrence began to question his own abilities and his reasons for the path he chose. Lawrence knew that violence was a reality of life. His father had told him of his greatest triumphs in battle many times. It was always easy for Lawrence to imagine his father’s victories, to imagine the marauders and bandits and evildoers he had slain, to imagine the grandeur and the accolades that came with winning great battles. But Lawrence had never fully understood that those victories came with a steep price, paid by a man’s soul.
He realized now, as he lay in a heavy sweat, the irony was that the very life he had sworn to protect would mean that other life would have to be taken. Taking a human life was something that Knights became desensitized to. It was what they trained for. And in reality it was simple: kill or be killed. But Lawrence knew that the coming days would no doubt test his resolve, and Lawrence wondered if he would still have his own convictions about right and wrong at the end of it all. Could he ever look at the world, at his duty, at his life the same again after taking another man’s life?
Chapter 27:
I found the most peculiar tome today. It was just sitting by the edge of the pond in the center of the clearing. It must have floated in from a nearby river. There are drawings and passages unlike any I have seen before in my life. It details spells I’ve never heard of like Carcass Decay, Life Drain, and the opening of a gate to hell. What could they be? Could I actually wield these powers? Surely, I must keep this discovery from Gorbin.
- Journal of Kastor Char, Age 15
The dark evening provided Razzius a black veil to obscure himself as he traveled. His horse had left the spot where he had abandoned it, so he needed to travel on foot. It took him longer, but he would not allow such a small setback to overshadow the greater plan he was trying to accomplish. He scaled the canyon, traversed some thickets, and crossed some rolling hills. He knew the area of caves where the apparition told him that Kastor was living. As he arrived there, he felt a strange, ominous presence in the air. Even in the darkness, he felt as though he was being watched. As he walked amongst the various caves, a hooded figure appeared in front of him, blackness radiating in all directions from around its body. It was dressed in long, black, gold-hemmed robes. It levitated above the ground.
Razzius knew this must be the dark sorcerer. Razzius smiled eagerly and spoke, “The great Kastor Char, I presume. It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance.”
The figure removed its hood, revealing the face of a man. His head was bald, his eyes a deep purple. His skin was wrinkled and saggy. He smiled, revealing his yellowish-black, decaying teeth. He spoke in a low, menacing, arrogant voice, “How would you know who I am?”
Razzius didn’t want to waste time fighting; he had goals to accomplish. “I was told about your abilities, your exceptional skills, by a great spirit, a spirit who gave me this.” He unsheathed Bloodletter, showing it off to the sorcerer.
The figure’s eyes narrowed as a sadistic smile crossed his face. “Ahhh, the energy from that sword, it comes from the same darkness I embrace. But what makes you think you are worthy to the company of Kastor Char, Dark Sorcerer of Veronicia.”
“I am Razzius Grimm and I have a proposition for you. I need your assistance. I am going to gather an army and destroy Haile. I am going to conquer the capital of Forme. The sorcerers of the Everglen pose a great threat to my plan. I need you to destroy the Everglen, and all who call it home!”
“Why should I assist you?” Kastor growled, irritated by Razzius’ forward request. “I owe you nothing, boy!”
“Because, my friend, in exchange for your help, I promise you complete dominion over your own dark utopia. I give you my word that you will rule the Everglen as you wish. Destroy it, and then rebuild it into your own vision. A place where you, and all who believe as you do, can practice Dark Sorcery undisturbed.”
“Ahahaha!” Kastor roared with a deep, conceited laughter. “And why would I need your help to destroy the Everglen? You have no idea the power that I possess. I can destroy you where you stand!”
Razzius could feel the tension escalating. He believed Kastor’s claims and really didn’t want to test his powers. “Kastor, think of what I am offering you. This is your chance to destroy those who cast you out, a chance to have your ultimate vengeance.”
But Kastor still wasn’t buying it. Egos are a strange thing. There was nothing more that Kastor wanted at this very moment than to have his vengeance against Gorbin Gabrielle and the sorcerers of the Everglen. He had been cast out years ago, and had exiled to these caves. He spent his days and nights studying, practicing, and honing his skills. His abilities in Dark Sorcery had grown to powerful new levels. Yet he felt that he didn’t need to align himself with anyone, especially a young boy. He would have his revenge, on his own time.
“No. Now leave me alone, boy, before I kill you!” Kastor sneered.
“Either help me, or kill me. There are no other options!” Razzius retorted back, his own ego standing tall.
Kastor smiled and formed a black ball of energy in his right hand. He launched it maliciously toward Razzius. Razzius stood his ground, holding Bloodletter in both hands. As the ball flew at Razzius, Bloodletter began to glow a bright, luminous purple. The ball was attracted to the sword, absorbed by it. Bloodletter rumbled and glowed in Razzius’ hands, but it protected him fully from the sorcery’s effects.
Kastor hovered in place. He had never seen any normal person withstand his Dark Fireball before. He was intrigued by this peculiar sword, and the young boy who carried it. He reasoned that maybe he shouldn’t meddle with this boy who wielded a weapon of power he had never witnessed or imagined. Perhaps, Razzius possessed some of his own incredible powers that he would be wise to align himself with.
“Your powers are certainly strong, Razzius. Perhaps, we can make a deal after all?” Kastor offered, his tone now much more respectful. “But how can I be sure that you will leave the Everglen to me? How do I know you will not betray me?”
Razzius was still a bit stunned by his involuntary survival, but he quickly composed himself. “Because I have no quarrel with you, and no use for the Everglen. Besides, I will need your abilities again in the future as we conquer Forstwood and Embrydge and all of Veronicia. You can’t much help me if you are dead, or have no true place to train your followers.”
Kastor nodded his head slowly, beginning to understand the logic of Razzius’ plan. He lowered himself to the ground and approached Razzius. He stuck out his withered, bony hand, awaiting Razzius to do the same to finalize their deal.
Razzius shook his hand and said, “I’m glad we can work together. A new era is about to beg
in. My master will tell me when you have finished destroying the Everglen. I will march on Haile at that time!” Razzius figured that the Knight Guard would be searching for him and he did not want to risk detection. He asked his new ally for refuge for the next day.
Kastor was hesitant, but obliged. Secretly he was excited to have a competent visitor, someone he could view as an equal both in motivations and abilities. Razzius was one of the few mortal souls that Kastor had seen during his seven year exile, and the only one he had ever harbored.
Razzius spent the day resting and relaxing while discussing his master plan with Kastor. Both shared ideas, notions of the world that they wished to create, that they wished to rule. Kastor and Razzius mixed well after their initial spat. Where Razzius was concerned with sword fighting and physical battles, Kastor was concerned with spiritual, magical ones. Where Razzius wanted to control Haile, Kastor only really cared for dominion over the Everglen. They made a perfect, complementary pair.
The next night Kastor was eager to begin. “Razzius, I can start the destruction of the Everglen at any time. I venture that the sorcerer’s there have completely forgotten about me and the incredible abilities I possess.”
Razzius knew Kastor was anxious to destroy those he detested, but still he wanted to ensure his plan was foolproof. “Before we set this in motion, there is still something I need to do. Come with me. I need to recruit Phillip Galexia in Green Bryre. He hates the Knight Guard as much as you hate the sorcerers of the Everglen. It will be much easier to convince him to join me on a journey through the Frozen Mountains if I can show him that I have one powerful accomplice already.”
Kastor had not been out of those caves in seven long years. He longed to see flowers and trees and rivers again, anything but the cold, gray walls of those lonely caves. This request was a symphony of the greatest music to his ears. “Ahhhh, yes….what a great point, Razzius.” Kastor again marveled at Razzius’ aptitude. “I will be happy to join you. It will be nice to see a change of scenery for once.”
Chapter 28:
The sky was unusually dark the next morning. Storm clouds pervaded the usually blue sky, and the threat of rain and strong winds lay on the horizon. Many citizens of Alacrecia awoke, unaware of the events that had transpired the night before in Haile. Galvan didn’t fish on this morning and it threw off his internal rhythm. He was still exhausted from the heavy workload from the Advent Ceremony. He stood up in his dwelling when a knock came at the door.
Rap! Rap! Rap!
Galvan slowly opened it. The gray light from under the dark clouds flooded his room, alerting him to the gloomy weather. Catherine stood on the other side of the doorway, her face glistening with tears.
“Galvan, it’s horrible! Last night, after the ceremony, one of the new Knights went home and killed his father. The entire city is in an uproar! Galvan, what are we going to do?!” Her face was covered with worry as she looked to Galvan for some form of comfort.
Galvan thought on it for a moment and then furrowed an eyebrow. “There isn’t really anything we can do,” he said. “Unfortunately, life will continue on with or without that poor soul. It may sound cruel, but the world doesn’t stop for one man’s life, or one Knight’s strife.” Galvan had been trying to balance his heavy workload with spending time with Catherine afterwards, and as a result, had been missing out on important hours of sleep. His response felt out of character for him, but he didn’t care, he was exhausted. “I just cannot see-”
Whap!
Catherine’s hand slapped across Galvan’s face and cut his sentence short. “You jackass, Galvan! How can you be so insensitive?! A man just lost his life, and the only thing you can think about is the flow of the world! Who gives a damn about that! We should be more concerned with the safety of our cities and their citizens, not our own personal agendas!” Catherine stopped her tirade for a moment and looked away in disgust. “I’m going to the market to get some spices, do whatever you want!” She turned and slammed the door in his face.
Galvan didn’t move to open the door; he just stood there defeated, hurt, and alone. He walked over to a table and slumped down in a wooden chair. The chair shook as the weight of his body crashed into it. He placed his arms on the table in front of him, cupped his head in his hands, and sighed.
Chapter 29:
The Galexia boy came to me one night shaking in his boots. He was terrified and looked like he had seen a ghost. He assured me that he had. I went to his mansion later that evening and set up camp on the ground floor. I remember those halls lined with porcelain statues and silver and gold idols, such a waste of space. I don’t think the Galexia family spends much time here anymore. I sat in my chair that night and finally heard it: the scratching, the clawing, and the growling in the walls. For a moment I was excited that I might actually see a ghost. My excitement soon faded when I checked around and found the culprit. It was nothing more than a family of raccoons making the mansion their new home.
- Big Branic’s Big Book of Mysteries, Chapter 22
The next evening Razzius and Kastor trekked cautiously to Green Bryre. They were careful to avoid Haile and its guard outposts. They used the woods, the thickets, the cliffs to move quickly and undetected throughout Forme. They arrived in Green Bryre which was quiet and deserted. Its citizens were fast asleep at such a late hour, completely unaware of the malicious plan that was unfolding at their town’s entrance. Though Razzius himself had never been to Phillip’s home, he had a good inkling that it wouldn’t be hard to find. He had heard the stories and the legends of the grandeur of the Galexia house.
As the pair made their way through the shadows of Green Bryre, past the statue of Mervin and the small, shuttered shops that composed the town, they looked dubiously at each other. They noticed the large towering Galexia home in the distance, but wondered if they had made some mistake. They stared at the cracked windows, the overgrown vines choking their way up and down the stone steeples, the unkempt hedges, the long, weedy grass growing in the front gardens, and speculated whether or not the place had been inhabited by anyone in a long while. This looked nothing like the home of the wealthiest family in Forme, but more like an abandoned castle from a forgotten kingdom. The two stopped at a gate to the massive, dilapidated home.
As they were about to turn around and leave, Razzius noticed a small candlelight in a third story window. He grabbed Kastor and pointed eagerly toward the glowing sign. “Do you think there might be someone living there, Kastor? It seems like no one has been here for ages!”
Kastor grunted and whispered back, “Well, I didn’t come here for nothing. There’s only one way to find out.”
The two approached the large, rusted, iron gate that blocked the overgrown path to the Galexia castle. Decayed, mossy letters spelled Galexia throughout the iron framework of the portcullis; the first true symbol that confirmed that the two were in the right place. A rusty padlock impeded their progress. Kastor grabbed the lock, his hand turning a glowing red against the blackness of the night. The padlock melted, disintegrated slowly. Kastor turned toward Razzius, and opened the door.
Razzius led the way up the winding, meandering path toward the worn front of the Galexia house. Torch holders and lanterns sat bare and unlit along the path. There was no light to welcome them to the gigantic front door, which seemed as unwelcoming as the rest of the house. Razzius made a motion to knock, but was interrupted by Kastor who stopped him. Kastor motioned his forefinger to his lips, telling Razzius to keep silent. Kastor tried opening the door and it creaked its way open slowly, a chilly draft flowing out of the foyer.
The two men entered. The house was unbearably cold and smelled of rot and decay. It was completely dark, obscuring the duo’s vision. Kastor raised his hands, and a grayish purple hue emanated out in front of him. It was a dull light, but it was enough to highlight tables, chairs, and other obstacles within the living area. The home hadn’t been cleaned in a long while; dust and cobwebs had invaded every crevice. A dead bir
d lay in a corner, a perpetrator of the horrible smell. Something scratched in another corner, bats or rodents, perhaps. The cluttered space was filled with an eerie stillness.
Suddenly, the hue of candlelight began to flicker at the top of the stairs. The telltale zing of a sword being unsheathed shattered the tense silence. Razzius and Kastor readied themselves for battle against the unknown.
“Who goes there? You’re trespassing!” the unseen man yelled. “I’ll give you one chance to leave. Do it now, lest you taste my blade!”
“Phillip? If that’s you, we request an audience. We mean you no harm,” Razzius responded, hoping to avoid an unnecessary confrontation.
A thin, pale, young male cautiously inched his way down the stairs, stopping to overlook the foyer. The candlelight illuminated his face. Bags hung from his sunken eyes; it seemed as though he hadn’t slept a full night in ages. He shivered constantly, struggling to hold the candle, and his sword, at arms length. His face was angry and callous. His body seemed frail, weak, unable to support the weight of the feelings that seemed to consume him. Upon seeing the two intruders, both of whom appeared much more steadfast than he, he changed his tone immediately. He stuttered, his arrogance turning to fear, “Please, forgive me; I am in no condition to fight. Take what you will; there isn’t anything of value left here anyway.”
As Phillip backed away, Razzius spoke, holding his hand out toward the man as if to stop him from leaving. “Phillip? Wait! Don’t leave. We aren’t here to rob you. We are here to ask your assistance for a very important task. We want you to join us. We need your help.”
“And what help would that be, gentlemen? Have we ever met before? Do I even know you?” Phillip crept down the stairs, still unable to identify his visitors. But as he got closer, his eyes glinted with hateful familiarity as he recognized Razzius. “You! Is this some sort of sick joke? Has the Knight Guard sent you for me? I’ve stayed far away from Haile! Now leave me be, you have no business here!”
The Trinity of Heroes (I Will Protect You Book 1) Page 23
