by C. J. Aaron
Their efforts were matched with merciless, lethal defense. The Lei Guard cut them down without hesitation.
Within moments, a sense of order was restored to the chamber. At sword point, or mere threat of violence, the gallery was held in check. Their appetites unsatiated, yet their instinct for survival momentarily overpowered their greed. Ryl turned slowly as he scanned the room. Each face sent another wave of disgust rolling through his body. They were scratched and bruised. Blood trickled from deep gashes or streamed freely from shattered noses or lacerations. There was not a single member there whose skin didn’t share the crimson droplets of another man or woman’s blood. The opulent finery, enough wealth to feed the entire kingdom, was torn and disheveled. Several were shirtless, their torsos riddled with oozing scratches.
His gaze settled for a moment on a woman in the front row. Her blouse was torn in half, her naked chest was partially exposed, yet she made no attempt to cover herself. Her torso, like the others, was red with claw marks; the dark outline of a bruise was already forming on the pale skin over her ribs. She clutched the severed leg of a chair in her hand, her eyes darting from side to side as she calculated her next attack. Stains of black stretched out from around her heart, snaking upward toward her neck.
The focus of each among the gallery rested squarely on him. More precisely, on the vial still clutched in his outstretched hand. They glared at him with the same vicious intent that they’d displayed upon their neighbors. Black lines of the taint within their blood crept up their necks, spreading out across the lower portion of their faces, creeping up their cheeks.
Ryl’s gaze paused for a moment on Tev. The youth’s skin had blanched, his eyes wide with a mix of horror and disgust. His father, still on the floor a few meters away, had risen to his knees. He mumbled to himself softly; his mutterings contained few words, most unintelligible. The noises that dominated his vocalizations were growls, more like a beast than a man.
“You’ve all failed.” Ryl’s voice tore through the crowd. “There are none worthy among you. The greed that has tainted your souls will not cease.”
The brief message was disastrous to some. Hideous wails of agony sounded as several fell to their knees. The racking sobs of loss were sickening. The realization that their mortality was now measurable was a crushing blow.
He turned his attention to Lord Kagran. The ancient noble, the self-appointed regent, still on his knees, wavered in place. Ryl stalked forward; the anger inside him swelled as he struggled to keep it in check. A meter from the lord, he stopped, taking a knee before the subdued lord.
He watched the man carefully as the moments stretched onward. Kagran refused to meet his gaze; the tangent of his eyes darted around the room. Perhaps the most ancient man in the kingdom lacked the will to hold Ryl’s withering glare. The black lines of the nexela crept well beyond the ring of his collar, staining his neck as they sought complete control over their host.
Ryl held his hand out, rolling the vial on his palm. The thick liquid sloshed against the inside of its container.
“I have that which you desire more than anything in this world.” Though Ryl whispered, his voice echoed through the room. There was a force, an intensity, that grew with every word.
Kagran’s mouth opened, his lips forming into a snarl. The lines of black crept steadily up his chin; his facial features shifted. His look, once regal and prim, was now disheveled, more feral than civilized. His head nodded unnaturally in a sign of understanding. The devious light of greed rekindled in his eyes.
Tev took an uneasy step away from his father.
“I’ll give this to you if you can answer one simple question,” Ryl growled. “Tell me the name of the life you drained to produce this?”
The silence was deafening.
Kagran’s agitation grew, his body racked with emotion. He shook with anger. The hatred poured from him. Ryl felt the hint of the unnaturally forced emotion. The black lines now stained his cheeks, racing ever higher up his face.
Ryl stood, stepping back from the seething wreck of the devolving lord.
“Perhaps that was too difficult,” he noted. “Then give me the name of the boy who stands behind me.”
Lord Kagran could barely contain the raw, unfiltered emotions that drove his body to the brink. The stain reached his scalp, melding into his hairline as it covered his head. Ryl held the dose above his head, turning slowly as he addressed the group, though he remained focused on the lord.
“Give me the name of any that your greed, your lust for power has sentenced to death,” Ryl thundered.
The slow arc of Ryl’s rotation again ended on Tev. The young man now stood several meters from where his father quivered in anger.
The cackle that grew from where Lord Kagran remained began as a muffled rumble before swelling into a maniacal peal. His body shifted as he leveraged himself to his feet. The motion was awkward, more of an unnatural slithering as he shifted from side to side. Several horrified gasps escaped the lips of the nobles forced to watch the scene.
Once upright, Lord Kagran adopted a pose that was as disturbing as his rise. His torso was hunched, leaning slightly forward. His arms dangled limp at his sides, swaying gently; his fingers twitched as they slapped against his legs as they passed. Both of his shoulders had rolled forward in a gruesome pose, almost as if both joints had separated. His face was the last to rise.
Blood smeared the left side of his cheek, flowing freely from a gash on his forehead. The stain was crimson, though streaks of black oozed from the wound. The demon that remained where Kagran once stood was no longer human in more than figure alone.
Ryl made eye contact with Tev; their gaze held for what seemed like an eternity. In his eyes, he saw a wealth of emotion. Horror and revulsion dominated, yet underneath, there was understanding, there was compassion. Not once did his gaze stray hungrily to the vial in his hand. He matched his judgmental gaze without fear or hesitation. The undeniable spark Ryl had longed to witness flickered in the depths.
Hope.
Ryl answered with a focused wave of the matching emotion.
What he saw reflected back was a chance for meaningful change. For the kingdom. For the tributes.
For the future.
With a flick of his wrist, Ryl tossed the vial, the last of the Blessing of the King, toward Tev. The young man’s eyes went wide as he raised his hands to catch the offering. A gasp echoed from the mouths of many as all eyes in the room watched the slow rotation and lazy arc of the vial as it cut through the tension that had choked the air.
Tev caught the offering, quickly enveloping it with both hands, bringing the precious package close to his chest. His eyes darted cautiously around the room. The understanding of the dangers that were likely to come were daunting. The nobles he knew would just as quickly stab him in the back to steal their prize as they would entreat for the elixir.
A few meters away, Lord Kagran quivered uncontrollably where he stood. The dark streaks of the nexela webbed out as they covered his scalp. The last to change were his eyes. The whites, though yellowed with age, shifted to black, the stain spreading out as a drop of ink does in water.
Without a sound, Kagran lunged for his son.
There was no time for Tev to react. He watched as his death was imminent. The chilling realization that it would be at the hands and jaws of his father was crippling. The demon, the taint that now controlled the remains of Lord Kagran moved with the unnatural speed of the Horde. He would be too slow to react, too slow to mount a defense against the attack.
Ryl was not.
Chapter 48
Time stopped as Ryl lunged forward, eating into the distance between where he stood and the impending collision of the hope for the future and the devastation of the past. Tev shrank away from the demon that remained in possession of his father’s corrupted body. Kagran’s mouth widened in an unnatural snarl, his head cocked to the side at an awkward angle. His fingers were contorted, bent into a jagged pose,
appearing more like claws than human digits.
The winds swelled for an instant around Ryl’s right arm. He let the burning blade fade as he released a focused gust of wind into the torso of the charging lord. The blast sent his aged body reeling. His hands and feet squealed as they slid across the floor before crashing into the back of the line of Lei Guards at his rear. The black-cloaked warriors barely flinched in acknowledgment of his presence.
Ryl released his hold on the speed as Lord Kagran scrambled to his feet. The tainted lord wheeled around, eager to resume his charge. Ryl slipped behind Tev, placing his body between the pair. Kagran hunched forward, splaying his arms out to either side. His fingers twitched unnaturally as his greedy glare shifted to one of insult as the phrenic blocked his prey.
The sound that gargled up from his throat was shocking. The noise was a disturbing combination of hiss, growl and shriek. Particles of blood and spit flew from his mouth. The lethal determination in his eyes cut through Ryl as if he weren’t there. His focus rested firmly on the object of his desire clutched protectively in the hands of his son.
As his challenge died in his throat, Lord Kagran charged forward again. Ryl gritted his teeth as he steeled himself for what was to come. The wicked snarl distorted, adding hints of a devious smile as he closed on Ryl. He charged with an unbridled confidence that no force of nature could withstand his assault.
The pain tore through Ryl’s left arm as he pulled the power of the alexen back into control. Water welled in the corners of his eyes as the agony filled them with tears. The skin burned as the tattoo inverted. The instant stretched on for an eternity, the torturous pain unending as the scarred sun again took its place in the crook of his arm. The tingle and the glow of the energy crackled as it rushed to his fingertips.
The blade of white light sprouted from his hand.
Ryl stepped to the side of the charging demon, easily ducking under his errant slash. With the dormant handle of the Leaves in his right hand, he chopped at the legs of the passing lord. With a roar of anger and pain, he spilled forward, sliding to a stop a meter before Tev. Undeterred by the interruption, he again slithered to its feet, wheeling around for another charge.
Ryl lunged in front of him as he surged forward. The glowing white blade that formed around his left hand punched through Kagran’s heart. The momentum, once fueled by the unnatural power of the Horde, struck him with a weight that barely registered. The pressure applied was light, no greater than that of a withered body leaning gently against his fist for support.
The rush of darkness that Ryl felt flow into his body was substantial. The Lei Guard ringing the room turned again, eyeing the disruption at their rear. Fearing their reprisal, Ryl gritted his teeth, allowing the inversion of the tattoos to commence. The pain had yet to recede from the last shift as he forced his body to undergo the change again.
A gurgle rose from Lord Kagran’s chest. His eyes, burning with hatred and desire, locked onto Ryl’s for a moment. In that instant, the blackness shifted. The whites of his eyes churned, resolving into their original aged yellow. The black stains that webbed across his face receded, creeping down his neck until only his withered aged skin remained. The pressure of his body weighed heavier on Ryl, as if the phrenic was the only force holding his body aloft.
The expression on his face morphed before his eyes. From the devilish snarl to unending remorse, the emotions played out in the span of a few moments. He gasped for air as his skin wrinkled and cracked as it withered. His gaze shifted beyond Ryl to his son standing a step behind.
Lord Kagran winced in pain as he struggled to swallow. He opened his mouth as if to speak; nothing but a sickening, wet gurgle emerged. His head slumped as the final breath escaped from his lungs. Ryl caught the lord as he toppled to the floor. He laid the dead man’s body down with more tender care than his blackened soul deserved before moving to give Tev space.
“What was he?” Tev’s voice was nothing more than a whisper.
“He is the product of greed.” Ryl spoke. “The quest for eternal life, milked from the tortured arms of the children you auction to the highest bidder, is infused with the corruption of the nexela, the blood of the Horde. The addiction has no end. The dependence is eternal. You’ve borne witness to the ravages it produces. Once removed, the body will not sustain itself.”
Tev’s gaze lingered on the devolving wreckage of what used to be his father. After a moment, he raised his eyes to the vial in his hand before reaching Ryl’s.
“What will you have us do?” Tev’s face turned pensive as the reality of the moment began to settle in.
“What will I have you do?” Ryl glared. “I am neither your master nor your conscience. It is not my place to govern, neither is it the phrenics’, save for the pursuit of those you call tributes and their families. The Ascertaining Decree ends today. The testing ends. Disobey me and I’ll be your executioner.”
Tev swallowed audibly at the statement.
“The rumors of your skills were less exaggerated than we believed,” he added. “You’re kind kill with impunity; you’ll butcher us without mercy.”
“Our kind?” Ryl cursed. His voice thundered through the hall. “Our kind, as you put it, seek only to defend ourselves. The phrenics once existed side by side with mankind. That version of history has been erased from the collective consciousness of the kingdom through generations of lies. The knowledge, the true history of this kingdom, will be available for any who are willing to listen.”
Tev’s vision broke from Ryl’s, scanning the inhabitants of the room. Only the quiet weeping and moans of the injured broke the morbid silence of the chamber.
“Will the soldiers of your house follow you?” Ryl asked, breaking the quiet surveillance of Tev.
“Aye, some will. Certainly, others won’t.” He took a moment to answer; his gaze lingered on his father’s remains.
“As will be the case with many,” Ryl noted. “Though there will be no hiding the mortality that any who’ve consumed the elixir now face. The time they’ve stolen will catch up with them, as you’ve just seen. Others will devolve into madness. Any shred of the man you once knew had been long consumed by the darkness he willingly accepted.”
Ryl turned, walking back to his companions, who remained grouped together in the center of the room.
“Damaris has no easy road ahead of them,” he offered. “I hope that in a changed world, we can one day find trust again.”
Ryl inclined his head as he passed into a stream of sunlight that broke through the windows above. The sensation of the sun on his face was peculiar. He’d grown accustomed to the comforting feel of the hood and shadows that concealed his identity. Exposed as he was, he felt naked.
“The choice is yours. Choose to extend your life, choose to make yourself rich beyond comparison, or destroy it. Your action will define the course of history.” Ryl turned once he reached his companions. “Understand that we will not allow the Ascertaining Decree and its tenets to stand. As you’ve hunted those who’ve chosen their children’s lives over gold, we will show no remorse. We will raze the kingdom to the ground if we have to. Though our numbers are few, do not doubt the strength and resolve that flows within our veins. Thousands of cycles of pent-up rage are waiting for release. Keep in mind, the horrors that visited Cadsae Proper have not disappeared from this world, merely departed for a time.”
Tev looked at the vial in his hand, inspecting the liquid for a moment before casting his gaze in a wide tangent across the room.
“Or you can take the next step in rebuilding a partnership that Damaris once enjoyed. I’ve given you my commitment.” Ryl pointed at the vial of black liquid that sloshed in his hand. “The choice is yours.”
Reaching behind his back, he slid the dormant weapon back into its holster. With both hands he pulled the hood up over his head, shrouding his face in shadow.
Tev’s sweep of the chamber ended as it reached Ryl and his companions. The weight of his decision was hef
ty. His eyebrows furrowed and relaxed as he concentrated on the small glass vial in his hands. On the importance of what it stood for. He raised the small glass in front of his face; he tilted his head to the side, squinting as he let the sunlight pass through the black liquid. He rolled it side to side in his outstretched hand, watching as the liquid sloshed inside.
After a few, long moments of observation, he broke off his stare with a subtle shake of his head. He lowered his gaze to meet Ryl’s. The determination in his eyes was fierce, yet the tint of fear was undeniable.
With a halfhearted smile, he opened his hand. The vial rolled sluggishly off his fingertips, plummeting to the polished stone below.
The shattering of glass reverberated across the kingdom.
Epilogue
There was no disguising the cloud of dust that foretold their passage along the Kingsway. In the days that passed before they abandoned the capital, the rain that had saturated the ground evaporated, leaving only dry soil and the thin sheet of dirt that coated the road. The passing of their increased numbers was impossible to hide. Arriving at the city under the cover of darkness, they had been a force a little over a dozen strong. Their numbers had swelled substantially since then.
Ryl cast a glance at the inverted tattoos that painted his left arm. The exposed skin was relegated to his hand, the darkness pushed back to a wavering line just above his wrist. The hushed, darkened whispers were fleeting. Unprovoked, they plagued his mind with images of destruction and death, yet their desires were subdued. Though they tested still, they understood the strength that commanded their obedience.
