“A ruse?”
“Only about a fourth of the village was murdered when the Quietus suddenly stopped killing of their own accord. They just stood still in the village square and waited, knowing that the Sages would execute them quickly. Five Sages answered the call and spoke to the group of Quietus, demanding that they take their battle elsewhere. The Quietus agreed to go to the courtyard of the Academy…where Lakrymos waited, enraged.
“At the courtyard, they gave little explanation for their arrival, demanding only that Lakrymos meet with them for a conversation. The Sages refused at first, sensing a trap, and they responded in kind. The entire Sage battalion congregated around these ten, perching on the pillars above and circling the Academy entrance doors, ready to pounce on and kill the Quietus as soon as they gave their story. With every Sage brought together at the southern wall, there was no one to defend against the Quietus Army that abruptly arrived. A hundred Quietus infantryman stormed the western wall, broke through and, surprisingly, left the village alone, only killing a few passing citizens in order to attract the Sages’ attention.
“Lakrymos gave orders quickly, telling Sages to save the village and warn those protecting the King and Queen. Little did he know that the castle was one of the Quietus’ primary targets. The King and Queen would be captured, their own bodyguards unable to take on the waves of Quietus that attacked them. Still, the order was given, and the Sages went their separate ways to save the Kingdom, each of them divided and conquered by a waiting death squad. The Quietus had planned an attack on Allay for decades, waiting for the perfect time, when our guard would be down and all the Sages could be exterminated at once. They chose a perfect day. The Quietus had divided into groups as well as the Sages, but their groups were calculated well in advance, each troop knowing full well its members’ strengths and weaknesses. And as each Sage was slowly cut down, one by one, the Sage Association was forced to send every member they could muster—even their reserve—to protect their homeland.
“All were defeated as more and more armies of Quietus, hundreds upon hundreds, stationed around the Allay Kingdom, its walls, and even the forest, waiting in the wings for their unsuspecting prey. I remember a villager telling me once that they had overheard a trio talking, discussing how Allay was the Kingdom to test their might on—the Languor and Prattle Kingdoms being nothing by comparison. The Quietus wanted to collectively know that they were the best, defeating all that stood in their way. And with Allay gone, there would be only one land left to challenge their might, one Kingdom remaining that was higher than us: Zen-echelon…but that conquest would be reserved for another day.
“In no time at all, Allay’s infantry was dead along with every one of its Sages, except for Lakrymos. He fought the elite of the Quietus Kingdom valiantly, but already they had demolished his Kingdom, massacred his people and murdered his soldiers. He wasn’t the cool and calm warrior of legend anymore. He didn’t strike fear into the Quietus elites. He was now just a man. A man with great power, but still just a man—his symbolism cut down, his spirit broken. They had anticipated this. Everyone has a weakness, and they had figured his out. They knew that under normal circumstances, even fifty on one, Lakrymos would be the victor, maybe bruised, a little scarred, but impressively the victor. He was the highest level of Sage after all. Yet, they were eventually able to overwhelm him, and force him to his knees…out of a broken heart.
“It was a great battle, not one of shame or dishonor. He managed to kill many before they humbled him. And without ridicule or insult, they respectfully brought the giant down and spoke to him as an equal, despite their triumph. They asked him what he, this warrior of warriors, this legend among the Quietus people—desire. He didn’t hesitate. He asked for the sparing of his people, for the Quietus to cease the ravaging of his already decimated home. The Quietus agreed, and Lakrymos suddenly saw through his enemy: deception.
“Clear-headed now, he broke free of his captors’ grasp, destroying their bodies with a flick of his wrist. The Quietus had prepared for this, knowing that Lakrymos’s intoxication with grief would end at some point, and so the captured king and queen were suddenly brought forth to squelch his rage. Lakrymos’s anger subsided as he saw his reason for living standing before him, the code of the Sage whispering maliciously in his ear: the King and Queen are your life.
“Lakrymos bowed solemnly, ready to raise his blade, when the King of Allay bellowed a ‘STOP! Do as they say!’ fearful of his own life. Lakrymos shook his head no in defiance, refusing his birth right, the Sage code, and his name. He knew they would not spare their lives. Not these Quietus. Unfortunately for Lakrymos, his non-compliance with his own King had also been anticipated.
“Through the crowd, gliding like water on rock, the King of Quietus emerged, protected by his own as far as the eye could see. He wore a pitch-black hooded cloak, covering his face and body, so that all one was able to see of him was that he was a big man, over eight feet tall, and that his hands were hideously thick and calloused as if they were made of granite. Intimidating to all who saw him, he came face to face with Lakrymos, unafraid.
“‘I understand your will to fight,’ he said. ‘Still, as long as I am present, your efforts will achieve very little.’
“‘I will not let you harm the King and Queen,’ Lakrymos stated respectfully but firmly, his decision made.
“‘You bow before me yet you make demands. How interesting. I commend you, Sage, for impressing me is an accomplishment not easily achieved. Yet, I am not willing to spare the head of my enemy without recourse. Are you willing to sacrifice for their lives?’
“‘I would die for them in an instant.’
“‘Do not be so dramatic, warrior. I know of your contract with death. I speak of your soul.’
“‘What do you mean?’ Lakrymos said. For the first time since the siege had begun, he grew afraid.
“‘I desire your salvation, human. The treasure you have coveted since your first breath. Allow me to consume your soul—to gain the power of a Sage coupled with my own, and I swear, that no Quietus now, or ever, shall lay a finger on the Kingdom of Allay or its inhabitants. Neither shall the King or Queen lose their life, nor their soul.’
“‘You would spare everyone, including them, in exchange for my soul and my Sage abilities?’
“‘Yes, creature,’ the hooded man breathed, nodding in approval. The King of Quietus, despite his violent nature, was known for his cold-hearted honesty. Lakrymos knew that if there was anyone to trust in all of Quietus, it was him.
“‘I pray you keep your word, monster.’ Lakrymos threatened, ‘or I will fly to Oblivion myself to tear your spirit limb from limb!’
“‘Ah…’ the Quietus King laughed, ‘but you would no longer have a soul to do so.’
“That day, Lakrymos, the greatest Sage in our history, lost his life and his soul at the hands of the Quietus Kingdom. True to his word, the King passed a law in the middle of our own courtyard, declaring that no Quietus was to ever set foot on our soil, less they be executed speedily and their soul consumed by the King himself. Our own King and Queen were spared, but,” Catherine paused, her voice breaking. “They were taken and brought to Quietus, made into slaves, and the Kingdom of Allay has struggled ever since to survive without their leadership…”
“How was the Quietus King able to gain the power of a Sage? And what did you mean by ‘he consumed Lakrymos’s soul?’”
“I’m not sure exactly. All I know is that, somehow, the Quietus can take your very soul and all that it possesses—memories, abilities, thoughts, dreams…and absorb them into their own body. I’m not sure how it’s done.”
“Then I’m glad I’ll never have to see one, or meet one.”
“Yes. As long as you stay on Allayan soil, you won’t ever meet a Quietus.”
The stage coach stopped abruptly, the horses neighing loudly as if to say “get out.” James climbed out the door. Taking Catherine’s hand, he helped her step down into the s
now that lay in front of the eastern doors.
“I guess chivalry isn’t dead after all,” Scarlet remarked from her post. She leaned against the side of the eastern doors, arms crossed as if she had been waiting for their arrival the whole time. She was emitting a strange scarlet glow from her body, but James figured it was some weird reflection between the light, her hair, and her armor, which was now visible for all to see. In spite of the climate, she did not wear a cloak to protect her.
“Aren’t you cold?” James asked as he cringed under a stray breeze.
“Not at all,” Scarlet sighed as she rubbed her forearms. “Toasty, really.”
“Right,” he stated flatly. “So are you here to take us back to the Academy?”
“Hardly. I know what it’s like to be cooped up in there. Catherine said she wanted some time outside of the place so I agreed.”
“Oh yeah, you’re cousins, right?”
Scarlet stole a glance at Catherine who maintained a blank face and then glared at James.
“I’m not breaking the rules because we’re family,” Scarlet said. “And in reality, she’s more like a half-cousin, through marriage.”
“Which doesn’t make us any less close,” Catherine sang as she hugged Scarlet. Scarlet dropped the cold composure and hugged her back.
“That reminds me,” James stated. “If the King and Queen are gone, who’s running the Kingdom? Nobody?”
Catherine looked up from her embrace and into Scarlet’s eyes. Her cousin looked away and let her go, scratching her head.
“At the moment, it’s a little complicated,” Scarlet answered. “But I guess one could say the Princess. The sole heir to the throne. She’s the only one who survived the siege of ‘88 which I’m sure Catherine told you all about. When the Princess is a little older, she’ll be able to become Queen and take a more prominent role in the Kingdom as a whole.”
“How old does she have to be?”
“Twenty-one. It’s when the heir is of age and deemed able to properly dictate law.”
“That seems like a random number to me.”
Scarlet shrugged her shoulders. “I don’t write the laws.”
“So this Princess…I haven’t heard of her before, but she must be really beautiful, huh?”
“She is,” Scarlet winked and laughed whole-heartedly.
“Then I guess I know who my wife’s going to be,” James blurted out, causing such shock in Scarlet and Catherine that they both almost fell down in the snow.
“WHAT?!” Scarlet spat. “Where’d you get an idea like that?”
“I’m going to be a great Sage someday,” James declared boldly. “And I think it’s only fitting that the Princess of Allay be my wife. I’ll protect her with everything that’s within me and I’ll cherish her until our dying day.”
“Romantic,” Catherine sighed in approval.
“Garbage,” Scarlet snapped. “What makes you think you’ll even like the Princess? What if she’s this horrible monster of a person? What? So you think she’s just this buxom beauty airhead goddess that will just fall head-over-heels in love with you? Serve you at your every whim? A trophy wife on your mantle to go with your Sage achievements? You haven’t even passed the test yet, High Hopes.”
“Well, of course I have to meet her and all, but I’m sure that she’ll be just as lovely as she’ll look.”
“Whatever you say, High Hopes.”
“Stop calling me that.”
“Well, it’s what you are.”
“Shut up, Scarlet,” James snapped, forgetting his place on the hierarchy. Scarlet didn’t even bat an eye.
“I have a question for you, James,” Catherine said shyly. James calmed down and turned to look at his friend.
“What is it?”
“What if I was the Princess?”
James looked into her eyes to see if she was joking, but he couldn’t hold it in. He burst out laughing. His hesitation and laughter were all Catherine needed to get the message.
“I get it, James. I’m not pretty enough, is that it?”
“I didn’t say that,” James replied quickly, trying to salvage the situation. “You’re pretty in your own way.”
“Wow,” Catherine said, casting her eyes to the ground. She cupped her hands together and bit her lip.
“I mean, if you washed your hair, or—”
“—I think that’s enough, High Hopes,” Scarlet cut James off and grabbed the back of his collar. “And for the record, you’re the last person to be giving a lecture on hygiene.”
James tried muttering a response, only to be shocked as Scarlet half-lifted, half-dragged him by his collar over to the eastern doors. He cried out in surprise as Scarlet pushed him through the open doors, sending him sprawling into the dirt beyond. He tried to get up quickly and run back outside, but he had landed so awkwardly that he had trouble gaining his footing.
“You can take the long way back,” Scarlet said firmly as she began closing the door. “Catherine’s staying here with me.”
The last glimpse James saw was her hurt, teary eyes as the doors ushered a booming slam in his face, leaving him in the very place his journey had begun.
Chapter 6 - Shattered Dreams
James didn’t feel like running, but he knew that he had to. He realized he had messed up and that the longer Catherine was able to dwell on what he had said, the longer it would take to repair the damage. Besides, she was supposed to tell him how to beat Dominic and the day was already getting late.
Unfortunately, he had no real clue on how to get back into the Academy, just a general direction. When he had left home, he had hardly paid any attention to the long road he and the driver had taken.
I seriously have to start paying attention!he thought angrily as he ran aimlessly through the village he had called home. He barely took in the sights and hardly thought of his friends as he instinctively ran through familiar passageways and shortcuts, jumping over the same potholes that were never fixed and the cobble ground that tore at his shoes. He didn’t pay any attention to the people looking at him in shock, seeing James not only home from the Academy, but actually running for the first time.
He was running so fast that he barely saw the hand that reached out and grabbed his shirt collar. James reached out toward his vague destination, but his assailant kept him back. His adrenaline died down as he looked up at his own father keeping him at bay.
“What on earth are you running to, boy? And why aren’t you at the Academy?”
“I’m trying to get back, seriously,” James huffed as he tried squirming free. His father kept his vice-like grip on him and continued the interrogation.
“What happened? You get kicked out or something?”
“No, it’s not like that. I tried getting some fresh air. That’s all. Can you please let me go?”
“Fine,” James’ father grunted, letting him go free. James tried making a break for it only to have his father grab his shirt tail and bring him back all over again.
“Listen, you might as well spend some time with your old man since you’re already out here,” he stated flatly. “It’s been weird not seeing you. Already you look a little bigger. What have they been feeding you?”
James wiped the dust off of his shirt and sighed, coming to terms that he’d just have to talk to Catherine that night. She was sure to be there…and hopefully in a forgiving mood. Although James knew she was a girl and therefore was a lot more sensitive than a guy, she did have a pretty tough hide. Surely she would forgive him.
Her parents must have been tough,he thought.
James mused over what they could have possibly been like. Probably the stereotypical old married couple that bickered a lot, forcing her to mature and look at the brighter side of things, realizing that there was more to a person’s comment than the surface value. Surely she realized that he hadn’t meant what he said. He didn’t mean it…not really.
Most of the time James just played around, searching for a smile
or a read of her reactions. It wasn’t like she didn’t enjoy the excessive banter either. She definitely had her fair share of quips and jabs at his ego that left a numbing sting in his chest. Yet he laughed and admired her wit, waiting for the right moment in the conversation to pop up in which he could throw in his own clever mix of raillery. A battle of words that didn’t seem to have a clear end in sight.
He thought of the look he saw in her eyes as Scarlet had closed the doors in his face, and he realized that he didn’t want to make her feel like that ever again. He had been wrong to say there was no way Catherine could be a princess. She was after all, despite her unladylike manner, one of the coolest girls he had ever met—even cooler than Leidy—who yelled a lot and got on his nerves occasionally. Catherine had a sweetness about her that drew James in, but she was still able to hold her own when the situation arose. And he liked that.
Who cared what she looked like? If Catherine was a queen, she at least would be fun to hang around with. He didn’t remember the King much, but he heard that the King had known his subjects well. That had to count for something. Catherine would probably be the same way, knocking down the castle walls to invite everyone to a party or masquerade. That’s the kind of person she was.
James made up his mind that when he saw Catherine next, he’d tell her that she would make a great princess. He would just leave out the whole “not looking like it” part.
“Are you done?” his father asked, trying to decide whether to slap him or not. Apparently, he had been yelling at his son for quite some time, drawing a considerably sized crowd around them.
“Oh, you were talking. I’m sorry,” James said seriously, patting his dad on the shoulder.
His father looked at him like he had just placed a spider there.
“What is wrong with you, James? I swear you get weirder and weirder.”
“Maybe I’ll get so weird, I’ll burst and go right back to being normal, huh, dad?”
“What are you talking about?”
The Works of Julius St. Clair - 2017 Edition (Includes 3 full novels and more) Page 12
