The Chronicles of Lorrek Box Set

by Kelly Blanchard

  Anelm spun around at the sound of his cry. At first she didn’t see anything unusual, but she saw the way he stared at his hands, and she looked, seeing his flesh turning into stone. Her breath escaped her. “There must have been a precaution set in place! If anyone tried to reverse the spell, they’ll take it on themselves.”

  Anelm and Rykeldan locked eyes and stared. Part of her wanted him to stop because she didn’t want to be responsible for turning him into stone, but if he stopped now, not all the statues will be turned. They didn’t deserve that life. They hadn’t done anything wrong. However, Rykeldan had done many ill deeds. She knew allowing him to go free was not an option, and she knew she could never trust him.

  Rykeldan saw that look in her eyes. He recognized it—knew what it meant. She would never truly give herself to him. He would never have her. His soul ached as his lifelong promise was snatched from him, and he was tempted to stop the spell in spite of her, yet he saw how she cared for these people—these mere mortals and total strangers she had never known before. It was beautiful. She was beautiful.

  He could never have her, but at least he could give her one thing—his life for these strangers.

  He nodded at her, sat up straight as any king, and stared straight ahead. If he was to be a statue, he would be a regal one at that.

  The stone began to climb up his chest, restricting his breathing. He tried not to panic. Yet he whispered one final word, “Therina...”

  A tear escaped her eye. “I’m sorry.” She turned away.

  Caleth saw the exchange, watched his sister turn from Rykeldan, yet he observed as Rykeldan turned completely into stone. There was something oddly satisfying about that, but he knew he couldn’t dwell on it now. Instead, he turned back to the field and spread his magic senses far beyond this field to try and locate any untouched statue. When he found none, he came back to himself and nodded at his sister. “It is done. All the statues have been returned to their flesh.”

  “Good.” Anelm stared at the confused crowd before them. They might have accomplished a great task, yet another one waited for them—restoring the sight of all these people and returning them to their homes—if they had anything to return to. It wouldn’t be easy.

  Anelm set her gaze on Vixen. “Who is this person you know that may be able to restore their sight?”

  “Take me to Jechorm, and I’ll retrieve him for you.”

  “Very well.” Anelm nodded, offering Vixen her hand, so that she might magick her to the technologically advanced land.

  Vixen took her hand, and the two vanished away.

  Caleth looked around and let out a huge sigh. Now he had the responsibility of keeping everyone calm until his sister returned.

  40

  Draben stood in front of the open portal which led to Cuskelom, and he watched as Reven and Felhelm approached him. “Sir, if I may just say, this is a really bad idea.”

  Felhelm lifted his brows. “Well, I wasn’t interested in your opinion, but why do you say that?”

  “Because they told us to leave twice, and we did help kill one of their more powerful sorcerers.” He shrugged.

  Reven nodded her agreement with Draben’s words. “I doubt they’ll take kindly to our return.”

  Felhelm listened to what his team said, and he sighed. “You’re right, but we have no choice. We will draw a truce. Hopefully they will recognize the wisdom in that decision. I’d hate for things to get messy.”

  Reven wasn’t sure how much messier things could get, but she didn’t want to see what would happen if this world of sorcerers ever went on the offensive. “Sir, they’ve proven trustworthy with the World Orbs. Can’t we just leave them there?”

  “No.” Felhelm shook his head. “We’ve been searching for the World Orbs for the last three centuries. We can’t allow a single world to retain control over a few just because it’s convenient.” He looked at Reven. “If we did that, we’d never fully restore all the World Orbs to this place.” He motioned beyond the glass to the chamber of Orbs.

  A Keeper stood on the side of a portal with his gauntleted hand on a World Orb, and this allowed for the portal to remain opened before them. The Keeper looked at the three, specifically Felhelm. “Sir, you need to go.”

  “Yes, yes, of course.” Felhelm moved forward. “Let us be off.” And he stepped through the portal.

  Reven shared another look with Draben, and she shook her head but followed after Felhelm.

  Draben watched her go, and he trailed behind reluctantly.

  They emerged in a corridor in the Cuskelom palace, surrounded by guards. Draben raised his hands. “See? Told you this was a bad idea.”

  One guard stepped forward and appeared to be the leader of the others. “We have orders to take you to the king. Follow me.”

  The three thymords shared a look but didn’t argue as they fell into step with the man. The other guards kept their weapons trained on them as they marched through the corridors past the staring eyes of the courtiers and curious looks from servants.

  At last they came to the throne room, which had been emptied of the court. Reven set her eyes on the throne, expecting King Heldon to be seated there, yet she found it empty. Casting her gaze about, she located the king standing near a window off to the side of the room, and he stared out the window without acknowledging them.

  The guards stepped back from the thymords and gave them more space than Felhelm expected, but he supposed all of this had been planned. The king had been expecting them.

  Heldon didn’t turn to face them. He stood, staring out the window, with his hands tucked behind his back. For a long moment he said nothing. Felhelm moved as if to speak first, yet Heldon finally spoke. “When my brothers and I were younger, my brother Lorrek always assumed the role of protector. It’s an odd role for the youngest to assume. You would think the oldest would take that role, but no.” He shook his head. “Lorrek took it because he realized he had the true power to make a difference and to protect those he cared about.”

  Finally, Heldon turned from the window and set his gaze upon the thymords. His eyes held nothing but emptiness in the soul. “Lorrek went beyond protecting our family and extended his care to so many others—many who will never even know his name, never even know what he did for them! Many others will continue to believe the lies told about him and think of him as an evil and corrupt man. He tried so hard to do what was right, tried so hard to protect others, to use his power for good.” Heldon locked eyes with them. “And you killed him.”

  Felhelm sensed Reven and Draben look at him before stepping back. They knew this situation better than him, and they wanted no part of it, so Felhelm squared his shoulders and met the king’s gaze. “We’re sorry for your loss. Our actions had...unforeseen consequences—”

  “Unforeseen?” Heldon scoffed then gestured sharply to Reven and Draben. “They didn’t tell you what to expect?”

  Draben opened his mouth to protest, yet Reven elbowed him in the gut, silencing him.

  Felhelm spread his hands out. “We did what we had to do—did what we thought was right. We cannot allow you to keep the World Orbs.”

  “And why is that?” Heldon gave him a sharp glare. “Why do you insist on taking them? They have been a part of Cuskelom culture for generations now.”

  When Felhelm moved to reply, Reven cleared her throat and locked eyes with her superior, asking if she could take the lead. When Felhelm bowed his head, she stepped forward. “Your Majesty, how would you feel if Cuskelom was overthrown by another, and all those in your family were either killed or exiled? After centuries of exile, how would you feel? Wouldn’t you want to reclaim a kingdom that was rightfully your own?” Although Heldon gave no response, Reven could tell she was reaching him, and she nodded. “That is what the World Orbs are to us. They were stripped away from us and scattered across galaxies. Cuskelom was one of those places. For centuries, we have been seeking to gather together all of them because they are our heritage. This is why we
ask—why we demand—the World Orbs. We will even allow you to keep your handblade because we understand you had lost your hand in battle.” She motioned to his gauntleted hand.

  Heldon made a fist. He had not lost it in battle, but it had lost it to an enemy. The handblade acted as his hand now, and he bowed his head to Reven, showing his appreciation to her for allowing him to keep it.

  He heaved a heavy sigh though because he could not argue with their logic. “Very well. I will show you to the chamber. Follow me.” Gesturing for them to follow, he walked past them to the door and led the way out.

  Draben glanced at Reven, surprised. If it had been that simple, maybe they could have avoided all this conflict from the start. However, the thymords turned and followed the king.

  As they walked through the corridors, others fell into step with them. Heldon noted the presence of his wife, Erita, and his brother, Theran—who walked now without his black armor. Therth also walked with them, and so did Vixen. They had been in the shadows and observing the conversation between Heldon and the thymords, and now they would not let him out of their sight.

  They walked through the passageways, deeper into the castle’s bowels. Torches along the wall lit the way, but Draben saw scratches on the stone walls. He looked up and saw scratches on the ceiling too, and on the floor—as if something big and metal had passed through here. He shivered at the thought of what it could have been, and he set his gaze ahead once more as their party came to a halt before a door.

  Heldon flipped through the keys until he came to the right one and inserted it into the lock and twisted it. With a click, the door unlocked, and Heldon put away the key then pulled open the door.

  Deep darkness met him, yet he ignored it and stepped right in. As soon as he entered the room, light began to filter in from a source he could not identify.

  As the room lit, it revealed a massive, domed chamber with multiple levels and shelves on each level.

  Empty shelves.

  Not a single World Orb stood on a stand.

  Felhelm looked around and furrowed his brows. “What is the meaning of this?” His gaze swept across the empty shelves, and he turned back to Heldon. “Where are the World Orbs?”

  “Sir.” Reven’s voice turned Felhelm’s attention back to the room, and he saw her pick something off the floor—a letter. She handed it to him.

  He took it, looked at the seal but didn’t recognize it, so he broke it and began to read the short note.

  “My name is Lorrek—Prince of Cuskelom and Mage of the Realms. I am still alive...”

  Heldon, Theran, and Therth stood in the room around the bier where Lorrek’s body had been placed. The chief servant announced the other servants were ready to wash his body and prepare it for burial, and Heldon turned to leave. However, when he noticed the others didn’t follow, he looked back at them and issued the command. They turned to him reluctantly and filed out of the room. They found themselves in the hallway, uncertain what to do, while the servants went into the room. All they could do now was wait. It felt wrong.

  “The reason for my survival came as a surprise even to me...”

  Suddenly, screams and cries of surprise came from the room, and they heard the sound of several thuds. The brothers and cousin shared a look and rushed in, ready to fend off whichever attacker dared to disturb Lorrek’s body, yet they came to a complete halt and stared in front of them.

  There stood Lorrek, looking alarmed and disheveled, but there he stood—with the bodies of several fainted servants at his feet while the other servants scurried away, terrified of the man who came back from the dead.

  Theran, Therth, and Heldon stared, stunned. Therth even dropped his sword in shock. Heldon was the first to move, and he approached his brother timidly but soon hastened his steps to him. “How is this possible?” Heldon checked Lorrek’s chest but found it healed, and he felt the heartbeat beneath the skin. His face lit with a smile, and he pulled his brother into a tight embrace as he let out a relieved cry.

  Vixen stepped into the room with Radella, and a pleased smile lifted Radella’s lips. “You spent a year in Elloi watching over Vixen. The land gave you an extra life, as I hoped it would.”

  “However, I will use this life as I had the other—protecting those I love and keeping power out of the hands of the corrupt...like yours. I have taken the World Orbs...”

  Days later, Lorrek stood in the midst of this very chamber, and he took in the sight of all the World Orbs.

  He heard someone approach, and he didn’t bother to look. “How is Theran adjusting?” He looked down at his hand and made a fist, relieved Radella had healed his hand after he hand phased his hand through Theran’s suit, grabbed his brother, and gotten him out of it. Finally, Theran was free. It had been too long.

  Radella stepped up beside him and nodded. “He’s adjusting well.” A smile found her face. “I believe he is relieved to no longer have that power.” Then she glimpsed up at him and saw him gazing at the spheres all around them. She knew what he was thinking and had to ask, “Are you sure?”

  He exhaled heavily. “The scroll Uncle Torroth found in the Archives says it is possible to store all these World Orbs into a pocket dimension. I simply haven’t done anything of this magnitude.” Lorrek stared at the Orbs surrounding them.

  “Perhaps I can help,” Radella offered. When he looked at her curiously, she went on, “I have magic as well. I can store some World Orbs in my pocket dimension...” Yet she trailed off when she saw Lorrek shaking his head.

  “Forgive me, Lady Radella, but the World Orbs are the heritage of Cuskelom, and they belong with those who are from Cuskelom. I appreciate your offer, but I must decline.” He looked back at all the Orbs. “The thymords will keep coming until they have what they want. They do not care how many lives they destroy in the process. They have already destroyed so much.” He locked eyes with her. “I will remove the threat from Cuskelom and place the World Orbs where they can never retrieve them.” With that, he made a large sweeping gesture over the room, and all the countless of World Orbs vanished, pocketed away in another dimension—one only Lorrek could access.

  “I now seek all the other World Orbs you have yet to collect, and I will keep them out of your reach...”

  Anelm approached Lorrek as he stood on a hilltop overlooking Cuskelom. “I never did thank you.” Her words earned a confused look from him, so she went on, “For sacrificing your memories for my freedom back when we were prisoners of Roskelem.”

  He pressed his lips together as he was reminded of that dark time. Thinking back on it now, in light of everything he now knew, he had to ask, “Was it worth it?” He looked back at her. “You are a kelliph, over a thousand years old, with magic I cannot even comprehend. You played Roskelem the entire time, and you played me—as did your brother. You could have freed yourself whenever you wanted because there is no...creed to the pure magic. Why didn’t you escape on your own?”

  She hesitated but finally sighed. “Until recently, none knew what a kelliph even was. We had to keep up appearances—”

  “Was it worth it?”

  Anelm stared at Lorrek, trying to understand his question. Was the secret of the kelliph worth his memories? Worth turning him into darkness and having him commanded to hunt down those he cared about? She stared at him, lips parted, but the words failed her.

  Lorrek saw that look and nodded. “As I thought.” And he turned away from her, tucking his hands behind his back as he stared across the capitol of Cuskelom—the place he always called home but rarely lived.

  “I have something for you,” Anelm told him as she reached into her pocket.

  He shook his head, still not looking at her. “I want nothing from you.”

  Anelm pulled out a Black Stone and held it out in her palm. “It will aid you on your travels across the stars.” With that, she tossed the stone into the air then levitated it there with her magic. Suddenly the stone began to shift and grow, morphing into a shape Lorrek ha
d never seen before. He stepped back as it took form, and it became bigger and bigger, its body sprouting metal wings and its features taking on the vague likeness of a dragon with what appeared to be scales over the entire body.

  It took a moment for Lorrek to realize what he was looking at. As Anelm lowered it onto its stands on the ground, it came to him. “A craft to travel space.” A section of the underbelly lowered into a ramp, and he neared it, awed. “I...I cannot use this. I don’t know how.” Lorrek shook his head as he tried to comprehend this piece of technology.

  Anelm smiled. “It responds to magic. Having this will give you someplace to call your own while you are on the run. This way you will not wear yourself out magicking from world to world. This will be your safe place.” Anelm followed Lorrek onto the ship, and both of them took in the smooth corridor of the ship and the different sections of the ship. Finally, they came to the cockpit where smooth glass surrounded them. Lorrek saw the four seats but also the lack of any technology similar to what he saw in Jechorm—no buttons or panels or screens.

  He frowned and turned to Anelm. “How does this work?”

  She smiled at him. “Magic. Consider this an extension of your power.”

  Still uncertain, Lorrek moved to the pilot seat and sat down. As soon as his hands touched the spheres on either armrest, he felt an instant connection with the ship and found it easy to slip into the magic realm to direct it. Quickly, he withdrew his hands with a sharp breath, but then he smiled and nodded. He sensed another presence on the ship. “Radella.”

  Radella stepped into the cockpit and grinned as she gawked at the shiny ship. “Ohh, pretty!” She smiled at Anelm. “Lorrek and I decided, due to what Rykeldan showed us of the thymords back in Athorim, it would be best if the two of us combined our powers and journeyed together.” She took in her surroundings with a wide smile. “I like it.”