Lost Empire

by Jeff Gunzel

  Morcel displayed a hint of a smile. “I’m afraid that’s not possible...friend. You see, I’ve sworn my life to the Gate Keeper. Not to you,” he raised an eyebrow as his stare turned up a notch, “or to the Queen.”

  “Believe me, my friend, Her Majesty and myself understand this completely. But what we are asking is not a punishment, nor do we deem you incapable. Far from it! In fact, it’s a promotion of sorts.”

  Morcel’s other eyebrow now joined his first, both seeming to want to climb to the top of his head. “And what exactly would be considered a promotion over guarding the Gate Keeper himself?” Morcel was almost beginning to look amused now. Almost.

  Azek couldn’t help but chuckle at the wit rarely displayed by the hardened mercenary “When you put it that way, absolutely nothing. But as both of us know, that is not exactly how the world works. This has nothing to do with whether or not Eric needs your services. It’s more a matter of...” Azek glanced around the room a moment, as if trying to choose his next words carefully, “It has more to do with an open position in the services of Taron that can’t possibly be filled by anyone else.”

  Now it was Morcel’s turn to gaze around the room. He seemed to weigh the gravity of this proposal. At length, his eyes met Azek’s once more. “Go on then. I’m listening.”

  “You see, a man of your skill—and maybe more importantly, a man with your leadership qualities— would ascend the Taron military to heights never seen before. A man such as yourself comes along once, maybe twice, every five hundred years or so—”

  “And what about Eric?” Morcel interrupted. “Have you even bothered to discuss this with him?”

  “Yes. As a matter of fact, he has,” said Eric, leaning in the doorway. He seemed to have emerged from thin air. “Trust me, Morcel, it was not a decision that was easily made. Of course I want you to go with me. Your vast skill set,” Eric cocked his head to the side, “and let’s face it—your uncanny brutality—cannot possibly be replaced.”

  Morcel let out a long sigh before slowly bobbing his head with unspoken understanding. The man was far from stupid. He could see where this was going—the logic behind the decision—but allowed it to play out anyway.

  “I am in more than capable hands on this quest,” said Eric as he approached Morcel, placing a hand on the big man’s shoulder. “But as capable as they are, none of them could bring the honor, leadership, and unblinking commitment to this military the way you could. They are as committed to me as you are, but they are not soldiers.” Eric gave the man’s shoulder a final shake and a firm squeeze before stepping back. He raised his open hand in a proper solute. “And for these reasons, as well as a hundred others, your title is now Morcel Quaron, Captain of the Guard.”

  Morcel sat there looking dazed for a minute. Then he finally stood and recklessly flung his chair across the room. He took a deep breath as his green eyes flared. “I am both honored and humbled that the two of you would show such faith in me. Therefore, I accept. That is...on one condition.” Eric raised an eyebrow as he met those green emeralds. “You make sure you make it back...alive.”

  Eric’s grin grew even larger. “Deal,” he whispered as the two embraced.

  Azek clasped his hand over Morcel’s shoulder, forcing him to glance his direction. “Don’t forget your rank, big man. You still answer to me.

  Chapter 2

  The room was still plenty dark when Eric’s eyes blinked open for what seemed like the hundredth time. Just lying there wide awake wasn’t going to help anything. Sleep simply wouldn’t come, and it was getting too close to morning to benefit him anyway. No sense in putting this off any longer. Better just get up. He kicked back the thick green blanket along with the clinging white sheets. Still in his small clothes, he ambled groggily over to his large mirrored dresser.

  Eric splashed a generous amount of rose-scented water from the wooden washbowl all over his chest and face. Droplets of scented water dotted the dresser and floor. After brushing away a few petals that had stuck to his chest and one from his cheek, he took a long look at himself in the gold-bordered mirror. The minimal light played tricks on his eyes as a reflection he no longer seemed to recognize gazed back at him. With eyes sunken in deep and heavily exaggerated age lines around the eyes, the reflection looked to be a much older version of himself. But even as he moved his hand to touch his cheek, the reflection did no such thing!

  Eric felt paralyzed all of a sudden; his every instinct screamed for him to pull away, to run, but his eyes stayed locked on the mirror as the animated image leaned out from the glass. An unnatural toothy smile stretched clear across its face—a stretched-out smile no normal face was capable of, as the corners of its mouth nearly touched its ears. Golden light began to scatter from its enormous mouth and bulging yellow eyes. Its head snaked out like a serpent, slinking toward Eric as a thick, black, forked tongue whipped around in circles.

  Suddenly Eric snapped out of his dark vision as light knocking came from outside the door. Breathing heavily, his head whipped around this way and that. He slammed both fists down onto the dresser and defiantly stared into the mirror once more. His reflection seemed normal again as he performed a series of small tests just to prove he hadn’t gone completely mad—a touch of his cheek, a hand across his forehead. Mercifully, his reflection mimicked his every move. The light knocking repeated with no added urgency. “I’ll be right there,” he said breathlessly, doing his best to steady his voice. Blinking away the bizarre vision he could only rationalize as a severe lack of sleep, he pulled his pants up just as Ilirra peeked through the door. Seeing that he was at least mostly decent she entered the room but didn’t close the door.

  “Good morning Eric,” she said, doing a terrible job of hiding the sadness in her voice. “The others are waiting for you downstairs. They are ready when you are.”

  “But it’s still dark,” he said with a touch of puzzlement in his voice. “We’re leaving for Candrin already?”

  “Yes, Eric. The others are ready and you have a long trip ahead of you. But first...” She paused a long moment. “But first, I think it might be best if you spoke to someone before you go.” She turned sharply without waiting for a reply and went back out into the hall.

  “Speak to whom?” he watched her turn and speak to someone just out of his line of sight. He just barely heard her say: “You have five minutes. Then he must be ready to leave.” The Queen disappeared from his vision as Eric was left staring at an open door. His anxiety began building.

  His uneasiness was more than justified as a muscular man with short blond hair and dark eyes stepped into the room. The silence hung heavy in the air as Eric stood face to face with the only man he had ever called “father.” This man. This lie! This mockery of family and love. How dare he come here? Memories of the past flooded though him like raging water—memories he had hoped to bury forever. Lies! Images of blowing out candles on his name day. Do I have a name day? This…man… comforting his son when he scraped his knee. Helping him sound out long words during his studies. Taking his son fishing...hunting...hiking.... His son? His guinea pig. His project. His...duty! But just as fast as the searing anger flashed through him like lightning, it melted away, replaced by pain and regret. It cut him so deeply to even lay eyes on this man. He looked so different now; eyes heavy, like he hadn’t slept in days. The man opened his mouth to speak before Eric abruptly cut him off.

  “What is your name? Your real name?” Eric’s voice was hard as iron.

  The man Eric had thought was his father paused a moment, clearly caught off guard by the straightforward question. “Corelle,” he replied, his dark eyes meeting Eric’s. “Corelle Nenkara. Tell me, Eric, does it make any difference what my birth name is?”

  “As a matter of fact, it does,” he growled while taking a step closer, clenching his hands into fists to help ease the trembling. “Don’t you see?” his voice eased to a whisper, “it’s the first time you’ve ever told me the truth.”

  Corelle
winced at the stinging words. “Eric, I didn’t have a choice,” he muttered. “Do you think this didn’t tear away at me every single day?” He backed up to the wall and began talking to the ceiling. “It—it went too far. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. The ruse was meant as an illusion for the other townsfolk. It was not without purpose. We had to keep your identity secret at all costs. It was necessary so I could do my—” his voice cracked hard, “my job.”

  Eric gave his head a shake to remove a few locks of hair that crept down over his forehead. “So how did your job turn out? Tell me, father, am I the perfect son you’ve always envisioned?” he calmly asked. “Like any other dog who finally learned to do tricks on command?”

  “It wasn’t like that!” the man pleaded, nearly groveling. “I let you down, Eric...me. Not even the Queen shares in my failure.” He shrunk down to the floor, his hands resting on his knees and his head hung low. “I was supposed to tell you years ago, but I didn’t have the guts. I...I just couldn’t!”

  “How long were you planning to keep a secret of this magnitude?” Eric railed as he threw his hands into the air. “You finally told me only when your back was to the wall and you had no other choice. I trusted you! Every thought I have, every decision I make, is based on my earliest memories—the teachings of my father.” He blinked away the building moisture from his eyes, not daring to shed a single tear for this man. “Everything was a lie. I have no idea who I really am.”

  Corelle sprung from the floor like a coiled snake. Before Eric could even blink, a large forearm drove him back against the wall. Corelle suddenly held a crazed look in his eye as he kept Eric pinned with nearly shocking strength. “You are my son! That’s who you are. You are the boy I chased with a switch when you and Jacob ran off for an entire day. You are the teenager who studied hard because I would accept no less than your best efforts.” He finally pulled his forearm from Eric’s throat and backed away. In a far calmer voice, he said, “And now you are the grown man who stands before me. The man who has been wrongfully burdened with the weight of the world; the man whose destiny can be no less than greatness, because anything short of that will be catastrophic.”

  Corelle turned and walked towards the open door. Burning questions swirled through Eric’s mind. Where did I come from? Who are my real parents? When is my real name day? Do I have one? But all the unasked questions remained locked in his throat. He couldn’t speak a word as he watched the only family he had ever known leave him once more.

  Corelle turned back with just a hint of a smile and said, “Eric, I told you who you are to me. Now you need to know who I am. Even if not by blood, I am your father. And even if you don’t believe it now, I love you. I pleaded with the Queen for this time to tell you, above all else, that. I hope someday you can find it in your heart to forgive me for failing you.” His dark eyes, though glistening with unshed tears, looked warm and familiar to Eric for the first time. “My time is up, and I must leave. Go now, and be the man you were born to be.” He turned and disappeared from the room so quickly it was as if he had never been there at all. No more than a few seconds passed before Eric bolted into the hall after him. The man was simply gone.

  Eric retreated back to his room, beginning to wonder if any of this was even real. Confusion, anger, sadness and regret swirled themselves into a sickening mix of emotion, a new emotion too vile to ever be given a name. He sat at the corner of the bed, rubbing his temples in the hope of massaging away the pain that threatened to consume him. A futile attempt, to be sure. I’m not sure how much more I can take. I never asked for any of this. But that simple truth meant little. These burdens were his and his alone. He’d been born into duty, even if he hadn’t known for most of his life. He certainly hadn’t asked for it. Burden? This is a curse.

  The circular motion of his fingers stopped. With everything that had just happened, he was surprised at how he felt all of a sudden. He felt guilt as intense as it was surprising. How dare he feel sadness over anything as trivial as his own life, a life that had never even really been his to begin with? Millions of lives hanging on the choices he alone made, and he dared to complain of everyday luxuries such as family?

  I am a tool—a weapon, nothing more. My life is forfeit. Best to accept it. For some reason, the chilling thought brought him comfort because it left him feeling like he had nothing to lose, and, more importantly, gave him a reason to press on. Throwing on a black wool shirt, he approached the mirror once more. Not unlike the first time, he hardly recognized the man he saw. Hard, dark eyes cold as steel returned his gaze. Void of innocence, he was no longer the boy who had spent his life dreaming he could be more than an ordinary blacksmith one day. Be careful what you wish for. He took one last look around the room. It was probable he would never see it again.

  Once out in the hall, it became clear his impending departure on this day had to be the worst-kept secret in the palace. Everyone he passed was treating him much differently than usual. Serving girls curtsied incessantly, turning themselves as he passed to make sure the eloquent movements were directed at him the entire time, and even then not taking their eyes from him until he disappeared around the corner. He began to speed up a bit, not really caring for all the unearned attention.

  Just before he got to the steps, a thin man with a square jaw and deep-set blue eyes stepped in front of his path. The man wore a huge grin that proudly displayed mostly toothless dark gums. “G-good m-m-morning sir,” he stuttered as his smile grew even larger.

  Eric smiled, warmed by the simple man’s innocence. “And good morning to you too.” He could hardly believe the progress made by the so-called mindless savages. All were speaking in full sentences now and many had even been given apprenticeships in several local shops. It was clear they would all be pulling their own weight soon enough. The thought that Queen Ilirra had been able to save all these lives warmed his heart. Savages indeed.

  “I-I hear you l-leaving for a while.”

  Does anyone not know? Eric just shook his head and shrugged. “Yes, I will be leaving for a while. And no, I don’t know when I’m coming back.”

  The man’s toothless grin beamed once again as he rattled his head up and down like an excited child. “Well, g-good luck.” He turned to leave but only got a few steps away before looking back once more. His eyes were filled with clarity and understanding, an innate intelligence that wasn’t there a second ago. In a deep, clear voice, he said, “Long live the Gate Keeper.” Eric’s eyes nearly popped out of his head. The man quickly reverted back to his childish grinning expression before continuing on his way.

  Eric shook his head more than once, wondering again if he had imagined it. After all, it was clear his eyes were not to be trusted this morning. I think I’m going mad. He rubbed his eyes before heading downstairs. He marched through the familiar halls of the palace and down a last flight of steps before finding himself standing in front of Berkeni’s door. Not bothering to knock, he stepped in to find many familiar faces seated around the table. It seemed a bit odd to meet in here, but it was clear no one wanted to see the inside of the war room again anytime soon. Besides, Berkeni was well within his element, surrounded by all his mystic tools and devices.

  The small man stood at the head of the table with Addel seated to his right and the other three spread out to the left. Ilirra and Azek had isolated themselves as usual, having a “spirited” conversation amongst themselves off in a corner. Jacob was whispering something to Athel as she grinned sheepishly. Jade sat quietly with her hands folded on the table. When they noticed Eric had arrived, Azek guided the Queen toward the table with a gentle arm wrapped around her shoulder. Eric suddenly noticed that Morcel was quietly standing in the other corner. He had been shockingly still and unassuming, even with his massive arms folded over his chest. How could a man so large and intimidating go completely unnoticed whenever he chose too?

  Berkeni rubbed his hands together vigorously before gesturing toward an open chair at the opposite end of th
e table. Eric took his seat quietly. Even though Berkeni was conducting this final meeting, all eyes seemed to be on him. He flashed Jade a quick wink before pointing his chin in Berkeni’s direction, a gesture meant to direct all the attention back where it belonged.

  “As all of you know, this will be our final meeting, and probably the last time we will all be in the same room together, at least for quite a while, I suspect,” Berkeni said as his forehead crinkled up, straining to form a smile he certainly didn’t feel in his heart. “The final arrangements have been completed. We have a loaded wagon guarded by the Queen’s finest waiting for you all outside. The four of you will leave within the hour.” He shook his head as if were having trouble believing his own words. “Addel will take it from here. I only wish to add that I have enjoyed working with all of you. I wouldn’t trade our time together for anything.” He sat back down as Addel slowly got to her feet.

  “I’ll be brief so you can all say your proper goodbyes to whomever you wish.” Her warm smile lessened a bit at her own statement. “To be honest, I don’t have much to add, since the situation really hasn’t changed any. We still know the proper ‘power shift’ is somewhere in the land of Shangti. We don’t even know if the demon will be able to enter through it in 20 years or tomorrow, but enter he will. This is why you must leave now.” She lowered her head. “I wish there was more I could do to aid you.”

  Berkeni stood back up again, clearly wishing to add to Addel’s statements. “Yes, it’s true. We don’t know how much time we have, but rest assured Addel and I will be working on that diligently while the four of you get yourselves established in the new land.” Using his thumb, he spun his silver ring a few revolutions around his finger while eyeing Jade. “We plan to remain in constant contact and continually give updates as to the progress we’ve made.” He abruptly folded his skinny arms over his chest as a strong look of determination gleamed in his sharp eyes. “We are all in this together. You four are not alone.”