by D N Meinster
Rikki glanced to the sky. “We wait.”
The four of them crept to the edge of the keep’s outer wall and they stared out at the masses below. Rikki watched Kahar with an acute intensity while Doren slid closer to her and placed his hand on her back. Aros crossed his arms and waited for something to happen while Loraya kept her bow and arrow at the ready.
Kahar was busy confabulating with some of his subjects, and he guided his mages along as he conferred with the loyalists at the front of the pack. When he was directly below the quartet of Revolutionaries, he glanced up and gave them a smile, as if he’d always known they were there.
When he tired of conversation, he barked something at his mages and the patch of ground the three of them were standing on rose into the air and hovered above the masses.
“Fellow Streamers, I apologize for the disturbances this eve.” Kahar’s voice boomed with an enhancement only magic could provide. “The vestiges of the so-called Revolutionaries once again attempted a coup, but their revolt has yet again failed. Though this keep was damaged, and we’ve lost people and supplies we can’t replace, we have prevailed. The Revolutionaries are no more. Terrastream is safe. Our home is safe.”
Loraya had her bow pulled back and ready to shoot. None of her companions protested or tried to stop her. Maybe his mages would stop it. Maybe it wouldn’t hurt him. But it was worth it to try.
As she was about to loose the arrow, there was a noticeable tremor in the vicinity that shook the keep and the ground around it.
Loraya eased her arm and looked at Aros.
“More prop powder exploding?” he guessed.
Rikki shook her head. “No. First light.” A streak of pink had broken out across the sky.
From his floating platform, Kahar shot accusatory glances at the four of them. But even as he whispered into the ears of his mages, he was unable to halt the worsening quake.
The grounds in front of the keep split open, sending clumps of grass and gray dirt into the depths of the terrain. Streamers screamed and scrambled but there was nowhere to run. As the shaking worsened and became more violent, the crowd itself seemed to sink lower into the field. Their feet, their legs, all became trapped by mud and soil.
Rikki had one arm latched between Aros’ and another between Doren’s. They all clung together, including Loraya, who had discarded her bow in order to lock arms with Aros. Though Valiant Keep shook and cracked, it remained intact as the quake finally let up.
As dawn broke and the stars gave way to the vivid colors of the morning sky, a row of people moved from the back of the throng and towards the keep. They walked atop the soil with ease, traipsing past the stuck Streamers and dodging the occasional weapon as a loyalist lashed out.
There was only one nearing Kahar that had a staff. The rest were poorly clothed, with scars visible on the bare parts of their bodies.
Azzer had arrived, just as he said he would. And he’d found the allies he’d been looking for. All of those mages that Rikki had freed from Kahar’s dungeons had joined him.
Rikki looked on gratefully. She hadn’t expected anything in return when she’d let them go, yet they came back to her at their time of need. But perhaps it wasn’t just her they were here for.
With a flick of her staff, Rikki sent Kahar’s floating patch of land crashing back to the ground. Kahar fell to his knees while his captive mages lay flattened and motionless.
Azzer was the first to reach the King. He waited as the rest of his allies caught up and gathered around, forming a circle around Kahar.
“Mahan Kahar,” Azzer spoke, holding his staff to the king’s chin. “In the name of King Aergo Tunsev and Grand Mage Amelia Nasem, I revoke your title and remove you from your throne. You will be returned to Kytheras to face the King’s judgment.”
Kahar cackled in response to Azzer’s speech. “Did someone forget to tell you that Aergo and Amelia are dead? So sad! You have no authority here. Kytheras doesn’t rule Terrastream any longer. I do. I am Terrastream!”
Azzer retracted his staff. “I know. I cannot give you what is right. I can only give you what you deserve.”
Kahar was pulled up from his knees, and he hung limply between the mages, with the tips of his toes barely reaching the ground. All of their eyes reflected hatred, while the King’s only showed fear.
His right arm was the first piece to fall off him. He’d desecrated Aergo’s grave in order to steal the limb. He had borne it long enough.
His left hand went next. He’d taken it from the first chief that had chosen to join him; the wisest man he knew. The rest of the arm followed. It had belonged to the last chief that resisted him.
His right leg was detached next. It had once been attached the fastest Streamer in the land. His left foot then fell from his ankle. He’d been envious of the man with the largest feet he had seen. The rest of the leg stayed on, as it was one of the few parts of Kahar that were originally his.
His bottom lip dropped off his face, rejecting him just like the woman it had once been joined to. Then his nose slid from his face. The Streamer who had been born with it was said to have the senses of a miwolf.
His blue eye popped out of its socket and rolled down his chest. The mage that had once seen with it had been the oldest being in all of Terrastream.
His pink eye followed. It was rare for Streamers to be born with such eyes. He’d needed to have it.
Each ear dropped from the sides of his head, both belonging to Hunters that had let him down.
His hair deserted his body at a record pace. The gold and crystal hairs went first, those that had actually been crafted from fine mineral. Then Rikki’s magenta hair fell, almost eager to return to its original owner.
There was not much left of him when Azzer and his mages were done. They set what was left of his frame on all the stolen organs he’d accumulated over his reign.
His one leg went into spasms, and he gagged and spat and bobbed atop his collection. Kahar refused to die and no mage was willing to finish him off.
Loraya saw that Kahar continued to live and would not abide by it. She stepped to the nearest torch and lit her last arrow aflame. Then she loaded it into her bow and shot it down at Kahar’s living shell.
The entire pile of body parts burst into flame. All of Terrastream watched as King Kahar burned away.
Chapter Thirty-Two
A Split Kingdom
Ashes.
Loraya bent down close to make sure.
There was nothing left of Kahar but ashes. That was more than she got of most of her brothers, but perhaps that was for the best. Every Streamer would be able to see that Kahar was dead. He had not just disappeared. He had burned. And there was proof.
She wished her brothers had lived to see this day, when Kahar was no more and Terrastream had been restored. It was difficult to enjoy it, even with friends at her side. Her family was gone.
Still, she could accept it now that Kahar was dead as well. That need and desire for vengeance finally receded. There was a calmness within that hadn’t been there hours earlier. The Revolutionaries were vindicated. Their lives had not been given in vain but had been sacrificed in order to achieve their ultimate goal.
Jemmy. Yayne. Skiff. Kyer. Nott. They had raised her and tolerated her antics for a lifetime. She would make sure to honor them as often as she could. No day would pass without her remembering her brothers and what they had given for her and her kingdom.
Loraya spat in Kahar’s remains before rising back up. Morning had never seemed so beautiful. The sun seemed to shine with exuberance, as if it knew the great evil that ruled this land was gone.
Aros was standing right behind her, his eyes baggy and his armor dull and dented. It was only when she looked at him that she remembered they’d stayed up the entire night. She hadn’t felt tired at all.
Now that the revolution was over, she wanted to tell him everything she’d been feeling since he arrived. Everything in Terrastream could go back to how it
was. There were no distractions left to keep her from declaring how she felt.
Except, it wasn’t quite over. Kahar was dead, but the Streamers hadn’t done anything but stand around. What were they waiting for?
And then there was the Key; the one Aros and his friends had come for. They still didn’t know where it was. But that only meant he’d have to stick around until they found it, and she was glad for that. There was going to be time for them to talk; time for them to spend together.
“What are they waiting for?” Azzer asked, looking from the freed mages to Rikki and her friends.
“They’re too used to following a king’s orders,” Doren noted.
“You should address them,” Azzer told Loraya.
“Me?”
Rikki concurred. “It was your revolution, and you succeeded.”
“I didn’t do this so I could rule over these people.” She glanced at the immobile populace. They hadn’t cheered upon Kahar’s death, nor did they seem to partake in any form of celebration. They looked lost.
“They just need to hear that Kahar’s reign is over,” Rikki stated. She leaned her staff against Loraya’s neck. “Speak and all shall hear.”
As Loraya started to address the crowd, she stared only at Aros. “King Kahar is dead.” Her voice filled the area much like the King’s had done. “You are no longer prisoners of his will. You are free of Valiant Keep. You can return to your land. You can be Streamers again.”
There were murmurs and confused looks spreading through the crowd.
Rikki moved her staff away for Loraya. “They’ve grown comfortable with their chains.”
“We never did,” one of the freed mages spat.
A Streamer from the crowd approached Loraya and her company. He was young, with dark brown hair and thick eyebrows. “Who will be king now?”
“Terrastream doesn’t have a king,” Loraya replied.
An older gent with lengthy gray hair and rough skin came to them next. “They don’t remember the old ways. Kahar was all they know.”
“You will have to show them,” Azzer said.
“I was a chief once. I will do what I can.”
The assembly became rowdier as their directionless state persisted. “We won’t have mages rule us!”
“Kahar isn’t dead!” another shouted.
“We took too long,” Loraya bemoaned. They had all grown used to having a king; to having Kahar rule over them. That’s what they wanted now. The Revolutionaries saved Terrastream but the Streamers couldn’t appreciate it. “How many of the old chiefs are left?”
“Not many,” the chief replied. “Kahar had most of them killed.”
“Do they even remember their old tribes?” Azzer asked.
As they stood beneath Valiant Keep, perplexed and unsure of what to do, a substantial group broke off from the rest of the populace and re-entered the keep.
“Where are they going?” Loraya asked.
“Home,” Doren sorrowfully replied.
Loraya searched the eyes of her friends, hoping one of them would have an idea that could stop this madness, but they merely watched the endless line pass through the entranceway without comment.
“Kahar lives!” she heard one of them bellow.
“How can they say that when they saw him burn?” Loraya bent down and scooped up a handful of the King’s ashes. “I will show them.”
It was Aros that held her back. “It won’t help.”
“He’s right,” the old chief said. “I will find those of us that remember the traditions of our land. We will do what we can.” He put an arm around the youth that was still standing by them. “Come along and listen to my tale,” he said, leading them both away from the keep.
“Traitors!” A lone Streamer wielding a wooden axe ran at the chief.
Loraya dropped the ashes and reached for her bow, but another Streamer had already gutted the attacker.
The spark of violence blew up the tensions in the area. Streamers began to attack each other for seemingly no reason.
“Stop them!” Loraya begged the mages, but they remained in place.
Small contingents of her people were slaughtering each other. Why did she seem to be the only one concerned about that?
“Aros!” Loraya screamed. “Help me!” She bolted into the center of the conflict, kicking duelers away from each other and blocking blows with her bow.
Aros ran after her, sticking an arm out and letting loose his white beam between the warriors. They were so shocked by the appearance of the weapon that they tended to stop without even needing to be hit by it.
“What are you doing?” Loraya begged for an answer.
“He said Kahar is dead!” a Streamer with streaks of blood on his chest answered, pointing a finger at his opposition. “Liar!”
“Kahar is dead!” Loraya shouted.
“I told you!” the Streamer responded.
The blood-streaked Streamer charged and collided with the blunt edge of a clawblade.
“We can rebuild Terrastream!” Loraya yelled at them. “Streamers don’t belong in a castle!”
“Says you!”
An arrow passed by her ear, and Aros pushed through the crowd to try and get to its originator.
A minor skirmish broke out again, though many on the fringes of the conflict simply walked away. Some went out towards the land, while others returned to the keep.
Loraya stood between it all, watching her fellow Streamers hack at each other before they finally drifted away from the battle. None of them bothered attacking her, as she merely observed the unbelievable actions of her newly freed countrymen.
Kahar had embedded a need for violence within them. That was the only explanation that made sense. His vile behavior had seeped into the hearts of all Streamers so that they thought it was the only way to be. It would take time, years maybe, to unteach them these abhorrent impulses and have them relearn the old ways and traditions. Until then, Terrastream would be worse off. Terrastream would be at war with itself.
Aros led Loraya back to her friends as the fighting settled down and the entire assemblage broke apart. They’d apparently gotten their hands on some fruits, as they were busy chomping on them when they returned.
Azzer tossed Loraya a pink pear, which she caught and started devouring right away. She’d been so distracted and disgusted that she hadn’t realized how hungry she was.
“I’m sorry,” Rikki said to her. She appeared to be genuinely distraught by the turn of events.
“We called them loyalists for a reason,” Loraya replied with her mouth full. “We didn’t realize that meant all of them, though.”
“We’ve left your kingdom worse off,” Rikki stated.
“No,” Loraya abruptly responded. “It’s like you said. Just because they don’t realize Kahar’s death is an improvement doesn’t mean it’s not one.”
“We’re better off,” one of the freed mages said.
“Civil war, though,” Doren murmured.
“Like Faunli when we got there!” Aros exclaimed, understanding what that meant.
“Civil war,” Loraya repeated. It sounded more dreadful, but also more hopeful, than her revolution. There had only been a tiny force of revolutionaries up against the behemoth of the newly formed monarchy. But a civil war implied a nearly even split amongst Streamers. She could accept that.
Traditional Streamers would face the monarchists. Only there was no more king. Perhaps when they realized that, more would join her side.
“We can start bringing this place down,” a freed mage suggested. “It might end the war before it truly begins.”
“No,” Loraya insisted. “There are some who might yet come around.”
“Plus, if I’m not mistaken, we have unfinished business within the keep,” Azzer reminded them.
“M’dalla!” both Rikki and Aros exclaimed.
Azzer put a hand to his forehead. “I meant the Key.”
“Either way,” the freed mage we
nt on, “we’ll do what we can for the—”
“Traditionalists,” Loraya completed his thought. “And we will defeat the monarchists.” She turned to Doren. “We do not mean to disrespect you, Prince Doren.”
“I’d be fine if Kytheras got rid of its monarchy,” Doren replied nonchalantly.
“And replaced it with what?” Aros questioned.
“Political debates later,” Rikki interrupted. She held out her staff between them all. “Let’s go get M’dalla, shall we?”
Aros and Doren gripped the silver rod.
“Are you coming?” Aros asked Loraya.
She had no desire to reenter the keep, especially now that it was strictly the home of monarchists. But she owed these Kytherans for all that they did for the Revolutionaries, and because of a promise that had been made and yet to be fulfilled. Plus, she wasn’t ready for her and Aros to part ways quite yet.
Loraya put her hand on Rikki’s staff, and her surroundings began to fade away almost instantly.
Chapter Thirty-Three
The Belated Funeral
10 D.R.
Kytheras was not the same city King Shine left or remembered. The Dark Reign had cast a shadow over it, leaving it dimmer and quieter than it had been during Aergo’s time. It was a traumatized kingdom, whose wounds had festered and grown over the decade. Many structures were in a state of disrepair. Storefronts had been boarded up over the years. Awnings had collapsed but had not been cleaned up. Blood stains, water stains, cracks in the road, all contributed to the ghastly appearance of the previously vibrant city.
Shine might have expected such repulsive features in the Outer, but to see the Inner so maligned was heartbreaking. Had Neanthal no pride for the land he ruled? No concern for the place he lived?
It was his first time navigating the streets since Neanthal’s defeat and imprisonment, as it was for most of the mourners that accompanied him. Already a gloomy day due not only to the cloud cover but the reason they marched through the streets, the sight of their home somehow made them all feel so much worse.
Shine was dressed in a gray so dark it was nearly black, though there was a single green stripe down the center of his baggy attire. On his right side was his wife, Narai, clothed in a simple black gown. On his left was Prince Shine, who wore an unusual cloak of both black and white. Behind them all was Rantiford, who had substituted his white armor for dark green that day. And leading them was Amelia, whose hair was finally loose from her bun, hanging half-way down her back and swaying against her black cloak.
