Crossing Forbidden Lines (Guardian Series Book 2)

by J. W. Baccaro

  “You should be pleased. Because if I found any trace of what I suspected to be in your mind you’d soon be a bloody mass crushed under my heel with Darshun under the other.”

  ~~***~~

  But it had been in her mind. What the Queen did not know is Kelarin possessed the gift of Timesight, foreseeing this event taking place prior to the Queen’s entrance. So purposely, she ‘locked’ any memory, thought or event pertaining to Darshun’s calling away in an area which could not be broken by any earthen tool or even the strongest magic. As for other past, present and possible future events she left alone. It became hard enough to lock away what she did. But now Talvenya saw something she thought Kelarin fantasized about, not realizing it was one possible future.

  “Poor, poor girl.” Talvenya tisked with pity. “Do not fool yourself darling, at heart Nasharins are as ruthless as I am. They seek nothing but strength and power. The Light even despises them. You are a foolish little girl trapped in a dream. And by healing Darshun you’ve only managed to prolong his death. The fool actually had the wit to challenge me this morning. Like you, he’s living a delusion. Just because you healed his physical wounds doesn’t mean my spell has lost effect. The Spell of Sorrow is irreversible. He’ll discover that as time passes and he finds himself lusting after the lady Aurora once again, realizing he cannot function without her, losing more and more of his will each day….”

  Kelarin tried to hide any emotion the queen attempted to bring forth as she remained quiet.

  “Then once he hits rock bottom and sees his own failure for a second time I will kill him myself. As for you, well I think I’ll have a little fun. How would you like to personally see your ‘mate’ beaten down in the arena? Oh fear not, I won’t have him killed as I said, that’s for me to do once I return. Just bashed into a bloody pulp except this time you won’t have the opportunity to heal him. Yes my dear, the arena it shall be.” Talvenya opened the door and glanced back at Kelarin. “I can’t believe for a second I thought that silly little prophecy to be true—Darshun of all creatures being its fulfillment. Ha, what a joke! Good bye for now Elf and I do hope you’ll enjoy the show this afternoon.” With a smile she walked off, the sound of her boot heels echoing along the walls.

  A sad case she is, blinded by pride, Kelarin thought. Completely unable to sense Darshun’s recovery of his will.

  Talvenya’s spell no longer held any effect over Darshun. For Kelarin wasn’t just some typical common healer of the physical body, but soul as well. Depending on her strength, she could heal any creature in its entirety, body and soul. Regenerate not only a limb or cleanse a wound, but take away sadness, sorrow or any suppression upon one’s spirit. No other healer ever possessed this ability. A rare case she existed as indeed. Strangely, as if the ability came with a price, she’d always been unable to heal herself, though this never bothered her in the least. Soothing others is all that mattered.

  She abruptly considered the Queen and her lack of sense by planning to put Darshun in the arena. Talvenya has not a clue what kind of warrior roams this castle. Darshun’s power is incredible and I only sensed a glimpse of it last night. Putting him in the arena might prove to be the Queen’s biggest mistake. There is no doubt the champion of the arena—her son Prince Sicarius will fight him. Knowing Darshun, the Prince will most surely die. And if so, I do hope Darshun finds the crystals before Talvenya’s return. There’s no telling what malice she will do when hearing about her son’s death. Perhaps even bringing Abaddon into this. If Darshun attempts to fight him I’m afraid—I’m afraid— She stopped herself from thinking any further. Darshun please hurry!

  CHAPTER NINE

  The Arena

  Darshun was taken across a long barren hall, down a flight of stairs and to the first level of the castle, entering a room stinking of death. The room consisted of three large cauldrons; dead frogs, crows and wild dogs—blood still dripping from of their bodies—hung from the ceiling by rope. Eagle, hawk and falcon feathers lay scattered across the floor and adjacent to where a narrow hallway began sat a stone table having bits of fur, animal bones and bloodstains. Beside the table a statue stood of a great three-horned ugly beast—too ugly for Darshun to describe. In its hands it held a black book, a spell book. For there could be no doubt this was a place for black magic, cruelty, ritual and sacrifice.

  Every breath Darshun took burned his lungs, as if vapors and acid drifted within the air and the sight of the dead animals boiled his blood. He wanted to unleash a frenzy of flames and destroy it all, but he needed to wait. While the Cullach took him past the cauldrons, he took a quick glance in and saw a human skull, femur bones and a spine in each one. Boiled alive? He cringed clenching his fists. How can anyone be this evil?

  “Don’t worry Nasharin, you’re not here to be sacrificed,” a guard said with a grin. “We just decided to bring you the back way to the Underground. You know, show you some of our wondrous sites?”

  They laughed mercilessly.

  One of them then spoke a word unfamiliar to Darshun. It didn’t sound Wizard or Elvish, perhaps Demonic.

  Suddenly, part of the wall opened up revealing a stairway descending into darkness. Two guards fired up a couple torches and started down first.

  Darshun was commanded to follow and the rest trailed behind as the wall resealed. Continuously walking down the never-ending stairs, the journey to the bottom took a long, long time. The lower they went, the colder the temperature fell.

  We must be far underground by now for it to be this cool, Darshun thought. Then he noticed a faint light in the distance, followed by sounds of hammering. As he drew closer the light became brighter, the hammering louder and the smell of heat, sweat and blood became unmistakable. Finally, they reached the end, walking off the last step.

  “Welcome to the Underground Nasharin,” a guard said.

  Darshun gazed around curiously—an underground cave stretching at least a mile in both length and width. Great lanterns attached to the walls hung everywhere, lighting up the place as if it were day. Hundreds of men were busy working, breaking rocks with hammers, transporting pieces containing Milandrith Metal in wheel barrels to certain guardsmen’ feet and dumping the pieces not composed of the metal in a massive pile center of the cave.

  The dirty faces of the men were full of weary, sorrow and utter depression, completely at a loss of will. But the Cullach kept them going, whipping and beating any man who would stumble. The guards brought Darshun to a section where there were at least a hundred boulders twice the size of him. They unchained him, feeling he must be no threat, as Queen Talvenya and even the High Wizard had said. They gave him a large hammer and a foot sized metal spike.

  “Chip away at these until they are pebbles. Then load the useless pieces where the other slaves are loading them.”

  Just to toy with them, as if Darshun really were being held by their will, he asked, “And if I find Milandrith Metal?”

  “Transport it to the other end of the cave, to the Draconians standing by the front exit. Oh, and don’t even think about sneaking off, cause down here you are always watched. Goodbye Nasharin, work hard or you’ll be the next victim boiled alive.”

  All but two guards left. They were to keep an eye on Darshun, make sure he wouldn’t escape or throw Milandrith into the useless pile, as some slaves have attempted before, prior to getting their throats cut.

  I have got to find a way around these fools who think they are ‘guarding’ me. Darshun thought. Though, I cannot make a scene, but neither do I have much time. I have to find what I came here for. The Nasharin!

  Unexpectedly, a great cracking sounded from the far side of the cave, drawing everyone’s attention—the guards included. A large section of the rock wall, weakened from a great lantern mounted to it, split apart and crashed onto the ground stirring up dirt, dust and rubble. It’d fallen onto the Cullach stationed in that area and caused a disruption among the slaves. Nearly every guardsman rushed over to gather up the wandering men.
>
  “Now’s my chance,” Darshun whispered. He crept away passing in between boulders, using them for cover and slivering through trenches, following the presence until he came to a slave in a little valley pounding on a rock.

  He wore shoulder-length scraggly blonde hair with green blue eyes, a slender build and a semi-pale face. “Hello Darshun.” He set down the hammer for a moment to give him a quick bow.

  Stunned, Darshun stepped back.

  “You should return to your post before they catch and torture you.”

  “How do you know my name?”

  “There is much talk of a Nasharin imprisoned at this castle. And not counting myself, there are only five Nasharins still living, three of whom I know personally: Mirabel Luthais, Seth Caelen and Nayland Winveil. Therefore, that leaves only two, a brother and sister…and you obviously are not female.”

  “My sister Minevara! How is it you know about her—us?”

  “Kelarin told me about your sister. But you I have seen for myself when you were just an infant. I was there when Mirabel rescued you from the Cullach.”

  Darshun’s eyes lit up. “Who—are you?”

  “My name is Kaylis Winveil, son of Magnus Winveil.”

  “Oh, you are Nayland’s brother!”

  “Aye.”

  “I remember my father once talking about you.”

  “Mirabel, yes, I miss him dearly. He was like a father to me also. But how do you know of Nayland?”

  “I’ve seen him.”

  “So he is alive?”

  “Indeed so.”

  Kaylis looked away, an expression of mystery and ponder filling his face. “I always knew he would survive.”

  “It wasn’t on friendly terms when I saw him.”

  He faced Darshun, passing a little sigh. “I understand. Nayland absorbed every hateful word my father preached about Mirabel, despising him just as much. Though I never blamed Mirabel for what happened. Nayland however was my father’s favorite. He vowed to become the greatest Nasharin.”

  “Well, no serious harm has been done. In fact, I thank him. He pushed me to become stronger. And now I’ve meet his brother—my brother.” That is how Darshun felt, not to mention overwhelmed with excitement that he wanted to hug Kaylis as if he’d always known him. Another Nasharin still in existence—it was wonderful!

  “Which way did you come to the underground?” Kaylis asked. “Because I didn’t see you pass.”

  “The Cullach said it was the back way.”

  “As I suspected.” He cringed.

  “I know what you mean the room they took me through, prior the stairway to here was horrible, evil!”

  “That ‘room’ not only serves as a second way out in case of emergency, but for sacrifice, especially for chosen slaves down here. They are randomly picked and immediately taken there to be sacrificed. A few good friends of mine have already died there.”

  “We will get justice, I promise. These fools hiding behind this castle have not seen a true warrior. But I will show them soon enough.” He clenched his fists. “Just wait and see!”

  Kaylis studied him, looking into his eyes.

  Darshun’s gaze appeared hard and dominant, his fiery tone and choice of words—the overwhelming presence of strength it was all present.

  “A true Nasharin you are. That’s what my father would say, had he gotten the chance to meet you—abandoning his hatred of course.”

  Darshun widened his eyes. “Say, what is your Magic?”

  “I don’t really know exactly, only that I possess the ability of—well what I call ‘Conversion.’ I am able to take in the element of another and convert it into energy.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “Let’s say you were to attack me with Wind, as Nayland had done once during a dispute I witnessed, well I can ‘open’ up pathways in my spirit, gathering your element and convert it into pure energy in the form of a shining sphere.”

  “What kind of purpose does that serve?”

  “The newly formed energy becomes two or three times stronger than your original attack of wind. But this only works by alliance. I cannot take in powers or spells cast from a heart of evil, as I unfortunately discovered. No, the magic only works on those fighting alongside me. I gathered it is an ability that corresponds in working together to defeat a stronger adversary. However, my body can only accomplish this once per battle, afterwards I weaken.”

  “Making every second count.”

  “Precisely.”

  “How strange. I’ve never heard of such a thing among Nasharins.”

  “No one has. And stranger yet, I don’t have to transform to use it.”

  “That’s not uncommon. My uncle Seth can communicate with animals while not in Transformation.”

  “Seth Caelen?”

  “Yes.”

  “So, he is still alive!” Kaylis spoke loudly, a sadness sweeping his face. “Oh, do I miss him dearly, both he and Mirabel. How I wish things could’ve been different.”

  Darshun didn’t say anything but got a terrible feeling at least one of them might be dead. He did not want to think which one and hoped he was mistaken. “So, I take it you are at a loss knowing your second ability?”

  “I never had the chance to find out. Before learning Transformation I was taken captive.”

  “Wait a minute, you’re telling me you can’t transform?”

  Kaylis lowered his head. “Sadly, no.”

  Darshun playfully hit his shoulder. “Hey, it’s all right, don’t be ashamed. It takes time, and you were captured nonetheless. Not many chances to train that way huh?”

  He shrugged his shoulders. “I gather so.”

  “Does anybody else here know you are a Nasharin?”

  “Just Kelarin.”

  “Interesting.”

  There did seem to be something peculiar about Kaylis. Besides his strange ability of ‘Conversion,’ beyond those green blue eyes showed something hidden deep—a terrible power waiting to be unleashed. This is what Darshun originally felt back up in the King and Queen’s lair. Now he discovered Kaylis couldn’t even transform, yet among his essence existed a phenomenal power—a mystery indeed. “I’m sorry about the tragedy that led you here. Nayland spoke of it, how your father was killed and mother—I give you my deepest apology.”

  “Do not apologize it is not your fault.”

  Some of the guards were coming close by, still rounding up wandering prisoners, setting them back at their stations while others began cleaning up the mess.

  Darshun and Kaylis hid low in a trench.

  “Have you been here since your capture?” Darshun asked.

  “Yes…” His gaze shifted to the ground. “I’m not proud of what I’ve done, what I’ve been forced to do. Long ago, some of us were forced to craft Milandrith Metal into swords and armor. We refused at first, desiring not to make weapons for them, but they began torturing and killing slaves until we submitted. It wasn’t long until the King and Queen saw my crafting as perfection, therefore casting the job on me fulltime. Though the Cullach learned my skills and have since taken over the job which is why I am back to the Underground searching for Milandrith, once again. They will probably get rid of me soon.” He clenched his fists. “Let them, for I cannot bear the thought of all the innocent people who have died from the weapons I made.”

  “Don’t fret upon that. It’s a blessing in disguise because I plan on using those weapons when I break us out of here. Where are they kept?”

  “In an armory on the second level of the castle…the east side.”

  “Excellent.”

  Kaylis gazed upon Darshun’s necklace, raising an eyebrow. “I see you’re wearing the Golden Crystal as a necklace.”

  “Ah, so you know of this too?”

  “To those who have eyes to see it gives off a sacred energy, an energy I can never forget.”

  “You have encountered it before then.”

  He nodded. “It was I who found it, buried
in the dirt the night Mirabel rescued you. As he carried your little body toward me it began to glow and its light converted onto you and then disappeared. That was the beginning of everything.”

  “The prophecy, I assume?”

  “Indeed, but at the time I knew nothing about it until I met Kelarin. She has given us all hope. The times are rising and the end is at hand. The world awaits you, Guardian of the Seventh Realm.”

  “With so much dread and misery…this world is more like a forbidden realm, but enough of that. Right now I’m searching for the Wizard Crystals and I can sense they’re in Abaddon’s lair. I do not know the location.”

  Kaylis gave him a puzzled look. “I can tell you it’s at the highest point of the castle. How to get there though, I do not know, this place can be a maze.”

  “I’ll search around until I find it.”

  “You best get back to your station before they see you speaking to me.”

  “All right. Be ready though, soon I will be getting us both out of here.”

  “Abidan be with you.”

  “I pray the same my brother. See, Nasharins are still in existence, perhaps more so than we thought. Our race is not yet finished, not by a long shot. And one day, we will prove to the world we were worthy of serving the Light or for that matter, worthy of doing what is right.”

  Kaylis nodded. “The power is in you. When you are ready, it will unleash”

  Darshun shook his head at him. “Look for my coming. ” He quietly slunk back to his station—and in the nick of time too, for a large number of Draconians seemed to come out of nowhere, rushing toward him.

  “This is the warrior,” one said, tugging at Darshun’s arm. Darshun threw the vile off, sparking rage in him. “Foolish Nasharin!” the Draconian growled, pointing a sword at Darshun’s head. “I’ll cut that grin off your face!”

  “No, save it for the Arena, as the Queen commanded,” another spoke. “Find the Milandrith craftsman and bring them both. We mustn’t delay.”