by Matt Moss
A shirtless man hobbled up to Arkin and knocked into him. “You got any drudge, boykin?” His eyes were strained, his skin white and flaky. A sack of bones.
“No,” Arkin said and shoved him back, uncomfortable by the man’s presence.
The man tripped and fell. “You little prick! Do you know who I am?” he asked. Faster than Arkin would have expected, he bounced back to his feet and pulled a knife. Two of his companions suddenly joined his side from out of nowhere. “Not so tough now are you, bitch?”
Arkin began to pull the sword from his back. Moses stopped him and spoke a word to the man. Immediately, the man dropped the knife, turned to one of his companions and punched him in the face. After the companion fell, the shirtless man jumped on top of him and began hammering his fists onto his friend’s head. The other man, shocked by his friend’s actions, jumped in to break up the fight. They continued to trade blows as Moses and Arkin walked away.
“What was that?” Arkin asked. “Did you just do that?”
“Yes.”
“What the hell?” Arkin cursed, knowing that this power went beyond the reasoning of the world. It took away man’s free will. “You can’t do that!”
Moses walked faster through the tunnel, bumping shoulders with people along the way. Arkin grabbed his shoulder, trying to talk to the Grandmaster.
“Get your hands off me!” Moses snapped, turning to Arkin with fury in his eyes. “And do not tell me what I cannot do! Who are you to speak those words to me?”
For the first time in a long time, Arkin felt fear — true fear, even though he trusted Moses.
“You think I enjoy doing that?” Moses spat. “I only did it to show you the third word of power.” His eyes looked away, lost in a thought. He spoke within the reverie. “I hate doing that. It tears at my soul every time I do.”
“I — I’m sorry, master. I shouldn’t have reacted like that.”
Moses regarded him again with fond eyes. “There is no need to apologize. Come, we have little time.”
Arkin wondered what the rush was about as Moses led him through the tunnel and into a room filled with people and painted lanterns. As they entered, a whore approached. “Hello, handsome,” she said and stroked Arkin’s arm. He briefly admired her before turning his attention to where he was going. That attention was quickly diverted to the energy in the room. He could feel the evil here — the lust and depravity of mankind.
Under the guidance of a steady drum beat, naked bodies were entangled with each other like a ball of snakes in alcoves around the room, oddly lit by green, blue, and red painted lanterns. Others people were scattered among the floor, snorting and smoking drudge.
Arkin almost lurched at what he saw next — children in cages that swung from the ceiling. Clothed in tattered rags, they were put there to witness everything.
He clenched his teeth and held back the urge to slaughter them all, save for the children.
“Why…”
“This is what we have become,” Moses said in a sorrowful tone. He turned to Arkin. “Carnal, corrupt, idols and false gods.” Moses pitied the people before looking to Arkin. “I feel the hatred in you, Arkin. Let it go.” He stepped in front of his apprentice and looked into his eyes. “It will destroy you. Let it go.”
Arkin cringed at the scene, the sound, and the smell of the room. His muscles tensed, urging him to leave this place before madness took hold. His eyes darted from scene to scene, each making him despise humanity a little bit more.
“Look at me,” Moses said, grasping his head. He noted Arkin’s rapid breath, his eyes wild. “Let it go.”
With nostrils flaring, Arkin gazed into his master’s eyes and gave a sharp nod. He breathed and silenced his mind as he was taught, calming after a moment. “Alright. Can we leave now?”
“Good, yes. Let’s go. Time is of the essence,” Moses said and left the room to resume travel down the tunnel.
“Why is time of the essence?” Arkin asked after he collected himself from leaving the room.
They approached a large, central gathering hall filled with tables, crates, and bales of straw. Lamps hung from the rounded ceiling, lighting the room. A few casks of ale sat tucked behind a bar for anyone willing to barter for a drink. Arkin saw a man stumble to the corner of a tunnel and relieve himself into a hole in the ground behind a stack of crates. Moses kept moving.
A man’s nearby voice rang out, gruff sounding like one that had smoked a pipe for many years. “Sure as shit, our governor, Atlas… he’s dead.”
“You on drudge, man? No way. I’m sure he’s entertaining a case of wine and a room full of women right now.”
That drew a chuckle and a reason to drink from the group sitting around a table.
Moses stopped upon hearing the news. He put his back to the group, hid behind a pillar, and pretended to deal with Arkin.
“What is it?” Arkin asked.
Moses glared at him and held a finger to his lips. Arkin leaned in close. “What is it?” he whispered. Moses gave a sharp nod towards the group. Arkin looked to find seven dangerous, desperate looking men, busy drinking and playing cards.
The gruff voice spoke. “Almighty strike me dead, Maximus killed Atlas.”
“Horse piss,” a man said and threw a card. “Why in shit’s sake would Maximus kill our governor? There’s nothing in it for him.”
“Atlas was going to betray the alliance and align himself with Victor,” an older man said, smoking a pipe. Every eye around the table turned to him. He shrugged. “It’s just what I heard.”
“It’s true,” a finely dressed man said and drew a card. “Raise.” He threw two coppers onto the table. “My friend just returned from the war. Said it was bloody as hell. Lucky the bastard got out alive.”
The card playing stopped.
“What happened?” a man asked him.
“Massacre on both sides,” the fine dressed man replied and took a long drink of ale. “He said that we drove the king’s army back and had them retreating with their tails tucked behind their arse. Confident of his victory, Maximus gave the order to the governors that they take their men and return to the cities.”
“Aye, I heard the same from a trader that just came from Greenehaven. Maximus sent most of the armies home when he thought the war was won. Said we crushed the king’s army.”
Another man stood. “What, then? Why haven’t we heard the news of the commander’s victory? Any other word?”
“That’s all. I don’t know what happened to Victor or Maximus. There’s been no word of either.”
“I guarantee Maximus cut the bastard’s head off and is tying up loose ends around Kingsport, gathering the people’s support and what not. Probably sittin’ on the throne right now.”
“Hear, hear!” a man saluted by raising a glass. “He’d be the best king we’ve had in a hundred years.”
“I’ll drink to that.”
Moses looked to Arkin. “Let’s go,” he said and led them into a tunnel. A short climb later, they were above ground again and on the outskirts of town, mostly comprised of livestock and people either selling or buying the beasts.
“What were they talking about down there, Moses? Who is Maximus?” Arkin looked to Moses, finding the man unusually worried by the news.
“Maximus is the governor of Stonebridge and the leader of the independent cities. Atlas, the other man they were talking about, is the governor of this city, Cartha.”
“And they went to war against Victor!” Arkin asked.
Moses nodded. It wasn’t one that was reassuring. It was a solemn nod with blank eyes, as if Moses already knew the outcome of the war.
“They didn’t win, did they? That’s why you keep saying time is of the essence. You knew.”
“I knew they were going to war. I did not know anything else.” Moses looked up and down the dirt street. The sun was beginning to set in the west. “I knew that Victor would not lose.”
Arkin saw something in the old man�
��s eyes. Something wasn’t right, and the old man knew more than what he was telling. “How did you know he wouldn’t lose? You have no way of knowing. He could be dead now.” Arkin pressed him for answers.
Moses looked to the east, to the hills outside of town. “We need to make camp.”
“You’ve been worried all day. How did you know Victor wouldn’t lose?”
Moses set his gaze to the hills and began to walk away, leading them out of town.
Not this time old man. “How did you know!” he shouted, causing people to stop and look.
Moses spun around. “Because I trained him!”
Arkin stood there, stunned. How could he have trained such a man?
Moses threw his arms in the air. “That is why I am training you! You are the one who will defeat him and bring light back into the world to replace his darkness. You are the one who will set things right!” Moses turned and marched away.
Arkin didn’t know what to say. What could he say?
He pushed his emotions aside and followed the old man.
THIRTY FOUR
Lyla woke to the cold that accompanied the thick dew the next morning. She shivered under the blankets and huddled tight to gather some warmth. The early morning sun begun to rise, displaying a grand painting that stretched across the horizon. She looked to Torin and found the big man fast asleep, his snore the only sound in the air.
Realizing that the warmth wasn’t coming, she rose and shook off the sleep.
“Torin, get up,” she said and kicked him in the ribs.
Torin growled and cursed. “Damnit, woman.”
Seeing that he wasn’t going to budge, she stayed busy packing up camp and tending to the horses. Before long, she grew warm and was happy to see the sun rise higher, without a cloud in the sky.
Torin rose, slowly, and gathered his things. Lyla smiled at him as he tucked the axes against his sides. “You ready?” he asked, scratching his head.
She nodded and threw a pack over her shoulders. “Let’s go.”
Inside the cave, the garden of stones had remained untouched and unsoiled throughout the ages, free from the corruption of mankind and the power that human beings, as a whole, so desperately sought.
“I’ll take that,” Torin said and plucked a glowing red stone from the ground. “And you. And you as well.” He placed two more in his pack. “Lyla, how many you got?”
“Two green, two blue,” she called back, pausing for a moment to look around, enamored by the cave. The colors shown bright, the stones almost inviting the visitors to take from them. How long had they been under the ground, waiting? She wondered if they were made for man to find or did they exist by mere coincidence.
Should mankind harness such a power? Is he capable of it? she thought.
She crouched down and cradled a stone in her hands. She felt the pull of the warm, purple glow as she lost herself in the beauty of it. It was… seducing.
Her reverie was broken as the earth began to shake. Rocks began to crumble and fall from the ceiling. She sprawled away and found cover among a natural formation in the cave.
“Torin! What’s happening!”
“Get down!” Torin yelled, running to find cover.
The violent shaking ceased and sunlight blasted throughout the cave. Lyla looked up and found the other standing stones removed, leaving their tunnels exposed.
“Lyla!” Torin called and ran towards her.
As he traversed the terrain of the cave, Lyla saw a figure drop to the ground behind him. Two more shadows emerged from the tunnels and fell to the ground.
“Are you alright?” Torin asked, slowing to a halt in front of her. “Are you hurt?”
She stood frozen, her eyes wide as she looked past him, seeing the figures crest the hill of the cave, coming towards them.
“What is it?” Torin said, noticing her fear. He turned around.
“So, what brings you folks here on such a fine day?” Grom asked. He stopped a safe distance away and put his hands on his hips. Ros and Scarface fell in beside him.
“I was just about to ask you the same thing?” Torin replied, squaring up to the three.
Lyla pulled the staff from behind her back. She didn’t know who these people were, but she knew this was going to turn bad. She exhaled and noticed her breath, suddenly feeling a new cold that blanketed the cave.
“You’re not supposed to be here,” Grom said.
Torin threw his arms out. “Yet, here we are. I didn’t catch your name, friend?”
Grom smiled. “Names don’t matter, but if you really want to know, you can call me Grom. This is Ros, and this nightmare beside me is Scarface.” Ros smiled wickedly while Scarface gaped, showing a mouthful of sharpened teeth.
Torin turned an axe in his hand, looking down at the weapon as he spoke. “You’re not here for stones, are you?”
Grom shook his head. “As I said, you’re not supposed to be here. You are unworthy to lay eyes on such and, therefore, you must be destroyed.”
Torin looked to Lyla. Her eyes were wide — scared, but confident at the same time. So were his.
He looked to the three and pulled the other axe with his free hand. “Do your best, then.”
Grom pulled his large battle-axe and took steps towards them. “Foolish humans. When will they learn?” Ros and Scarface drew steel and followed.
Another shadow fell into the cave to their flank, causing the three to pause. It took its place beside Lyla and Torin. “I would suggest you leave my friends alone,” Rico said.
“Rico!” Lyla cried. She desperately wanted to hug his neck but held back the urge.
Focus.
Grom cocked his head. “Rico? From the bar last night?” Grom asked, his tone pained as if Rico had betrayed him somehow. Rico pulled two swords from behind his back. “Damnit. I liked you,” Grom stated, letting the tip of his large axe fall to rest on the ground. “I trusted you. I told you things!”
“Torin, you got your head right?” Rico asked. “Last time I saw you at the Grand Highlands, you were in bad shape.”
Torin stood poised to strike. “Never better,” he growled through his teeth, reassuring Rico that he was ready.
Grom and his companions began to descend upon them.
“Good. We’re gonna need it,” Rico said.
Lyla recalled her training with Joko — foot position, hand transitions on the staff depending on the strike, anticipate your enemy’s movement, and always be mindful of the breath. But that was training. This was real. These strangers were bent on killing them, and in realizing that fact, fear froze her in place.
Rico paced towards the outside, positioning himself against Scarface. Torin stood steady in the center, ready to take on Grom.
Ros frowned. “Why does it always have to be girl on girl?” She pulled a dagger and licked the blade, drawing blood from her tongue. “Good thing. I like it that way.” She moved to the other side of Grom, challenging Lyla.
Lyla pressed the fear down and took slow, shaky steps to the side, away from the comfort and aid of Torin.
Rico settled into his stance and held one blade low in front, one high and behind. “Let’s dance.”
Scarface was the first to strike, roaring with a savage attack. Steel on steel echoed through the cave walls as Rico checked the blow.
Ros screamed and launched towards Lyla with an overhead strike. Lyla brought the bow staff up to block, the force of the attack drove Lyla to the ground and nearly snapped the staff in two. Lyla spun on her knees and brought the staff around, cracking Ros in the knee and sending her to the ground with a shriek of pain. Lyla swung hard and felt the impact of the blow as the staff cracked Ros in the head, sending her limp against the ground.
Lyla felt a rush of excitement after beating her opponent and turned to check on Torin. He traded blows with Grom, pressing the attack with a fury of strikes. She loved watching Torin fight. He was so—
CRACK!
THUMP
Lyla
heard her heartbeat within the sudden darkness. Her fingers pulsed, feeling the cold ground beneath her as she lie on a bed of stone.
I’m not dead.
Her eyes peeled open and saw Torin. He fought worthy as ever and pressed Grom back with a blinding flurry from his axes. Grom, falling back in defense, took a slash to the arm and screamed an unearthly cry. He held the wound with his free hand as his eyes suddenly changed, becoming something un-human. With an ear-piercing shriek, he dropped the battle-axe, lurched towards Torin at incredible speed, and tackled him, sending both axes from his hands. Even while soul tapped, Torin was no match as Grom unleashed a barrage of furious punches from the top position. Lyla wanted to scream his name, but it was no use — Torin was done.
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Rico. He danced around Scarface with blades blurring. Scarface hissed and spat as he dodged, checking blows and attempting to deliver some of his own. It was clear that Rico was the better man — the pale-skinned monster was covered in his own blood.
Rico spun and slashed. His blade suddenly stopped as Scarface gripped it with his hand, blood now pouring around his palm and down his arm. Rico brought the other sword around. The pale man caught it with his other hand and hissed. He pulled Rico towards him and threw a vicious head-butt. Rico’s eyes rolled as he fell to the ground. Scarface picked Rico up over his head and launched him towards Lyla. Rico crashed upon the ground and rolled, his body limp. Still lying face down on the ground, she reached for him, wondering if he was still alive.
How can this be happening!
“Stupid,” Grom said as he kicked Torin, rolling his body down the uneven terrain. “When will they learn that they can’t play God with their soul tapping.” He took a few steps towards Lyla. She closed her eyes, pretending to be dead. Grom stopped a few paces from her. “Ros, you know she’s still alive.”
“I know,” Ros said in amusement.
“Quit playing, then, and kill the bitch.”
Ros bent low. Lyla felt her breath hot upon her neck. She didn’t dare move, knowing that it wouldn’t matter anyway. This is it. This is how I die.
