Of Heroes And Villains (Book 4)

by Julius St. Clair

  “And do you agree with that? Or more of what Catherine believes?”

  “A mix of both. I won’t pretend and say that I have never lied or used deception to further my cause. The Maker knows that I’ve placed plenty in danger, and I’ve lost friends that were dear to me. And yet, I would do it all again, given the opportunity. My daughter’s approach is admirable. We all hope it works, but only time will tell if it was a good decision.”

  “You could have done the same,” Bastion replied. “In the beginning, you could have told the village about your mission. Maybe more Sages would have been born to assist with your cause.”

  “I don’t dwell too much on the past,” he said. “Learn from your mistakes, and nothing more. Spend too much time in the past, and you’ll end up destroying your future.”

  “AH!” someone called out to them from the entrance. “Master Arimus! To what do we owe the pleasure?” The man was dressed head to toe in Order robes. His head was bald and his facial features were tight and tucked in toward his skull. His body was pudgy, as his stomach was sticking out, even through the robes, and his bare feet were swollen.

  “You can cut the pretense, Val” Arimus muttered, waving a hand toward Bastion. “He is with me. We’re here on business that is of the utmost importance. I need to speak to the Order Master.”

  “He’s busy.”

  “As we all are. I need to, regardless. You know that I have full access to him whenever I please, and I have not exercised that right since the Order has been created.”

  “Then why now? Is something the matter?”

  “Val…”

  “Sorry. Sorry. Not my place, I know. He’s inside. Just go right in.”

  “Is he alone?”

  “Of course not, but the rest of the Order is downstairs.”

  “What is the Master doing by himself on the top floor? That’s unlike him.”

  “Why don’t you ask him yourself?” Val said with a sly smile. Arimus scowled at him and kept his hands close to his side. Bastion took a deep breath and did the same. Eidolons had to be at the ready—just in case.

  Val stepped out of their path and held the creaky, wooden door open for them. Shutting it behind them, they could hear Val beginning to talk to someone else outside. Bastion tried to focus on the second voice, but he couldn’t make out the words, and he dared not to release his eidolon, even a tip. Everyone in the village knew that the Order and the court disagreed on many matters. Since Arimus was his escort, he didn’t want to make that situation worse.

  Bastion instead turned his attention to the inside of the Order headquarters. The room was small, but cozy. As if they had entered a tiny chapel, the room was full of wooden pews that were nailed to the hardwood floors. Candelabras were lit and sitting on top of tiny tables to the sides. The tables started just by the entrance and then wrapped around the room until they hit the front. The front was bare, except for a tiny desk and chair. A pad of paper was sitting on it, but no writing utensil. Standing right by the desk was who he assumed to be the Master of the Order, father of none other than the boy he had nearly killed. Bastion decided to keep his name a mystery if he could help it.

  “Arimus,” the Order Master spoke softly. “Come forward.” The Order Master was thin and frail. His fingers were long and bone thin and his hair was wet and sparse. His eyes were distant and beady. There was nothing physical about the man, but his presence was mysterious and unnerving. No matter what anyone thought of the weak, old man, his words and his voice had great authority. He controlled far more of the Kingdom from his cozy house than the court would like to admit.

  Arimus took a step forward slowly, and then another, approaching the man with care. The old man laughed to himself, and then he began coughing. He shook his head and lifted his eyes to give Arimus an amused stare.

  “You have nothing to fear, Sage,” he said to Arimus. “There is nothing going on here.”

  “Val made it seem otherwise.”

  “Val finds pleasure in the little things. He was as the kids say, ‘messing with you.’”

  “I certainly hope so,” Arimus said, his face still serious.

  “What is it that has gotten you so anxious? You’re usually much more cordial,” the old man glanced over at Bastion. “And who is this young man? A new member of the court? You haven’t had one in quite some time.”

  “He is here to observe. Unfortunately, Master, I cannot tell you any more than that about the boy. I’ve come here to discuss another matter. We have received word that a pair of Sages, one male and one female, has been trying to rally troops to their cause. They claim that they are trying to ‘take back what is theirs’ and we believe that they are talking about Allay.”

  “Rallying troops? Taking back what is theirs? I’ve not heard of anything on this matter. Is this just speculation, or do you have some evidence that could back up your claim?”

  “I could tell your more, but it would have to remain confidential, even to your members of the Order. The Kingdom’s security is at stake.”

  “Oh, my. What kind of danger are we in?”

  “You have to swear first.”

  “If all of our lives are on the line, then yes, I swear. What is the problem?”

  Arimus relayed the issue quickly, citing the discovery of the Quietus and their claim about the Sages as quick as possible.

  “Hmm,” Master Torill mulled over Arimus’ words. “Have you considered that these Quietus are lying? In order to distract you from some other ploy?”

  “I doubt it. There’s evidence to suggest that their story is true. They have been honest about everything else, and I don’t know why they would be deceitful about this. What would they have to gain?”

  “Considering that you are here, I would say mistrust among us.” There was a gleam in the old man’s eye.

  “That fragile cord has been shaky since the beginning,” Arimus said, “but at least we both understand what this could mean if these two Sages are from neither of our camps. It could be nothing, but it warrants a look. Imagine if they were somehow about to bring the Langorans and Prattlians to war against us.”

  “Oh, come now, Arimus,” the old man laughed. “Surely you did not just say that about our esteemed neighbors. You and the Queen have been very vocal about their inclusion within our walls. Don’t turn back on it now.”

  “Still, you agree that this is troublesome.”

  “That it is. I can say this, and—you may use your Sage abilities to monitor my pulse, in order to confirm that I’m not lying—I can say that no one in this Order has gone off on some secret mission. All of my members are nestled in the walls of Allay. We wouldn’t go to the other Kingdoms because their mixing into our culture will ruin the purity, and we are not soldiers, let alone Sages. If any of my men encountered a Quietus, I can assure you that they would wet themselves post haste.”

  “So who could this pair be, if they even exist at all?”

  “What did they look like? According to the Quietus account?”

  “The girl was short and ‘solid,’ and the man was tall and lean. Both wore black Sage robes, and the Quietus say they are very powerful.”

  “Hmmm…the Quietus…their inclusion into our Kingdom is going to be monster of a conversation.”

  “We’ll discuss that later. Do the descriptions help you at all?”

  “Black robes…I, um—I’m not knowledgeable about how your Sage abilities work. When you put those Sage robes upon you, do you get to choose the color?”

  “I suppose if we wanted to, yes. But when we first transform, a distinctive color appears to reflect something inside of us. The same goes with our eidolons.”

  “The Sages of Old used to wear garments such as those,” Master Torill stated. “Black as night. I don’t think it was instinctive though. They wore the robes as a testament to their unity. They all chose the color. At least, that’s what I can remember. We didn’t see the Sages often. Do you recall this?”

  “It was be
fore my time,” Arimus said. “I worked within the castle then. I didn’t see much of the Sages either, and when I did, they were in normal clothes. These black robes—do you know what they could mean?”

  “I’m unsure, but perhaps this pair knows about the Sages of Old. Maybe their donning of the black robes is a declaration—of their animosity toward the current state of Allay.”

  “Just one big statement?” Arimus scoffed. “This pair would have had to only recently become Sages themselves. James said that the Quietus believe the rogue Sages are stronger than us. How is that possible with them being…so young.” His words trailed off as his eyes fell down to the floor. Bastion fidgeted in his seat. He was sure that Arimus was thinking about him.

  “Well,” Master Torill continued, “to my knowledge, there is no law saying someone has to be born a Sage on an equal level with everyone else. Such things are even true with our classes and government system. We don’t even choose what Kingdom we are born into.”

  “But what could those two want? And how would they even know what the Sages of Old wanted? The old Sage Academy was destroyed and we already went through the material.”

  “Maybe they found a way to break in before you had arrived.”

  “It’s highly unlikely.”

  “Well, I don’t know anyone that is discontent in our Order, at least not to the point they would mingle with Quietus. Disgusting.” The old man said ‘disgusting’ casually, as if it was a fact.

  “There’s no one that left your Order? Perhaps even before it was official. I know that you had sermons for the villagers occasionally throughout the years. Was there anyone in your congregation that was displeased with the Kingdom?”

  “Everyone was displeased back then. Even you. That’s why you started the Sentinel Academy—to get us out of the cesspool that was our lives. I’m sure that many were thinking of all they could to…hmm.”

  “What is it?”

  “Now that I think about it…I do recall one. But this was ten years ago, mind you. I wouldn’t even think he was alive still. There was a young man. His name was Ephai. He was a devout member of my Order back then, though it didn’t take much to become one. He was there for every sermon, right outside my porch every two days in rain or shine. He wasn’t a bad kid. Just interested in what I had to say. I guess that was a bit unusual back then,” the old man stopped to chuckle. “But…he did leave one day. He told me that he wouldn’t be coming to my sermons anymore because he got the notion that the Sages of Old were out there somewhere. He knew the stories that everyone else did, of course. There was no reason to believe that the Quietus had not been thorough in their attack, but he believed it just the same. Belief is a very strong notion. It doesn’t matter what that faith is put into, if you believe hard enough, it will make its mark on the world.

  “Anyways,” he stopped to give a short cough into his right fist. “He said that there could have been more Sages of Old on away missions, and they just hadn’t come back yet. He decided to go find them, bring them back, and restore the Kingdom. He said that if the villagers weren’t in such fear, everyone would want to hear my sermons.”

  “You’re right,” Arimus nodded. “The odds of Ephai being alive are very slim, considering how dangerous the world was back then. We had no allies, and we would have known if he had become a Sage. The Langorans or Prattlians would have mentioned it in our travels. It would have been a spectacle. When we were on our quest, our arrival was a very big deal.”

  “Still, it does make me wonder about a few things. Being a man of faith, I tend to come up with theories every now and then, about the Maker, about the world around us. You know, just humoring myself. Nothing serious. Perhaps a theory of mine ends up being the answer to your troubles, considering that these so-called Sages were wearing robes from the old days.”

  “What is that?”

  “The story of Thorn. Everyone reads it. Many have experienced it in one way or another. Fascinating story. But there has always been something about it that troubled me. He created the ether to hold the souls of both good and evil, and this has been confirmed by your team’s own accounts. I believe Scarlet and Kyran were able to see their loved ones during your journey?”

  “They were,” Arimus said, unsure where he was headed with the line of questioning.

  “Well, in one part of the story, Thorn says that he was able to defeat the Dark One and keep him apprehended. His plan was to eventually take an army to the gates of Paradise and try to usurp the throne of the Maker to claim as his own.”

  “It is a crazy notion.”

  “Well,” Master Torill continued, “once you all destroyed the ether and the souls were all freed, the good souls went to Paradise, but the evil ones…where did they go? Was the Dark One freed upon Thorn’s defeat? And even if he was, was he able to round up all those evil souls in time?”

  “I don’t know,” Arimus admitted. “But even if that true, they are just souls. They can’t harm us.”

  “There is more than one way to harm someone. Maybe an evil soul got to whispering in someone’s ear, telling them about the Sages of Old and kindling their discontent. It’s not far-fetched.”

  “It’s not far-fetched for you,” Arimus laughed. “I’m not saying that it’s not possible, but there was evidence of what Thorn was trying to do. He demonstrated his power by showing my colleagues Chloe and Scarlet’s brother. But even before then, there were villagers that had seen their loved ones be denied Paradise. As time went on, and the witness accounts increased, we then decided to act upon it. It wasn’t just complete faith that the stones of power would dispel the ether and solve our problems. We acted once we got some evidence, through the shrines and eyewitness accounts. So surely you understand why we can’t just act upon this “evil spirit” theory of yours.”

  “Not until the proverbial ether’s over our Kingdom, right?” Master Torill smiled and folded his hands together. “Well, you had to face forces involving the supernatural once. You may again. Who’s to say? I just have to say. Considering you can mold your souls into weapons and manifest your imagination into tangible objects—I thought you would be a little more open minded.”

  “I’ll think about it,” Arimus grunted as he turned to Bastion. “Are you ready? We have other places to look into.” Bastion nodded and Arimus turned back to the old man.

  “I hope you find your answers, Arimus,” the old man replied. “Your victory is beneficial for all of us.”

  “Thank you,” Arimus said, giving him a nod. Then he and Bastion turned and walked out the door. It wasn’t until they had gotten a safe distance from the house that Arimus snickered.

  “What do you think about what he said?” he asked the young Sage. “You’ve read our history.”

  Bastion shrugged his shoulders. “I’m not sure. It’s possible. Based on rumors in the village, there were stories of people seeing their loved ones after Thorn was killed. The sightings have dropped off significantly over the past couple years, or else no one is talking about it anymore. Either way, those sightings would coincide with what Thorn was doing. We could probably assume that if those ‘good souls’ went to Paradise, the bad ones would have to be placed somewhere.”

  “And the whole Dark One business?”

  “We don’t even know if the Maker exists, let alone the Dark One. Of those two, there is no evidence. Of Paradise and Oblivion, we do. Maybe those places act on their own. Why does there have to be someone guarding them and manning the gates?”

  “I don’t know,” Arimus shook his head. “This might all be distraction. We might have to look into the Order some more. Master Torill could be using his knowledge of what we went through to his advantage. Considering we fought manifestations and a man who claimed to be a god, we would certainly think about what he said.”

  “Well, those evil souls went somewhere,” Bastion said. “That much we can confirm, but I doubt it’s here on our plane either. From what we know about our eidolons, the soul isn’t stro
ng when it doesn’t have a shell to go back into. I imagine it would disintegrate…or something like that.”

  “So the evil souls are either in Oblivion, or somehow in Paradise. I can’t imagine Paradise. Chloe and Kyran would be having a field day up there.”

  “Then they have to be in Oblivion…right?”

  “Right.”

  “I thought we weren’t going to entertain that line of thought,” Bastion laughed. Arimus threw his hands up in the air and just began laughing.

  Chapter 17 – Ancient

  They reached the top of the mountain, but James was hesitant to proceed any further. Last time he had been attacked by Quietus, but Arimus had been with him. His father-in-law brought a calm to his nerves that he wished had lingered a bit longer. The closer they got to the ruins of Old Prattle, the more nervous he became. And he had to stay brave. Especially since the young Sages behind him could probably sense his apprehension. And that wasn’t good. They were already nervous, and now he was making them question if they were on a suicide mission. It’s not like he had given them a whole lot of information.

  James stopped at the edge of the summit and held up a fist for them to halt. He had eight Sages with him, all unseasoned and terrified. He needed their minds like steel.

  “Listen, guys. I want you all to have your eidolons out at all times. If you think you’re about to be attacked, then go ahead and strike. Your lives matter first and foremost.”

  It was a horrible suggestion. He knew that in the back of his mind a Quietus child could just run out and be killed accidentally. Hakin could have definitely left a second group behind, just in case he and the first group were captured or killed. Still, he didn’t want his Sages slaughtered because they weren’t sure whether to attack or just defend. As long as they accomplished their mission, it would all be worth it. Even if some Quietus died…as long as they got the stones, that was all that mattered.

  James blinked rapidly, and he wiped the sweat falling into his eyes. Was this the way of a Sage? Making decisions that were morally and ethically wrong? Just to ensure the safety and security of the Kingdom? At what point did just doing what was right enough? He could tell the Sages not to attack unless ordered, but what if he was apprehended? What if they were killed because they were so busy trying to follow orders that they didn’t have the sense to keep their bodies unharmed. What if…