by Matt Moss
Lyla cracked her eyes open as another shadow fell into the cave. Boots echoed with each step he took, commanding attention. He walked next to Lyla and stopped, making Ros back away from her. The four stood around her at equal distance. Lyla didn’t move, afraid that if she did they would kill her immediately.
“What the hell are you doing here!” Grom threatened, his voice echoing through the cave.
The shadow didn’t answer. Lyla moved her neck ever so slowly to gain a peak at the stranger. The man dressed in black. He drew a gleaming, silver blade from his side and held it point to the ground.
“Traitor!” Grom howled and hefted his large axe. “Alright, then. Have it your way.” Scarface and Ros began to pace out, taking the stranger’s flank. They stood snarling on both sides of the man, tense and poised to strike. Lyla could feel the energy among them, tingling her senses like never before. But there was something different about the stranger that caused her to question — some indeterminable power that he possessed but controlled, keeping it hidden, reserved. The other three must have sensed it as well because she felt the discomfort in them.
Time seemed to stop as all three surged towards the stranger. He remained unmoved, waiting as they slowly came towards him. Grom jumped over Lyla, the stone pebbles and dust from his feet spotting the air above her, seemingly frozen, the man’s motion inconceivably slow. Then, time seemed to speed up as the stranger countered their attacks, as if he was the one controlling time himself. He blocked a strike from the pale man, span away from Grom’s overhead slash, and delivered a spinning back kick to Ros. The kick buried itself into her chest, the bones heard snapping, and sent her flying to crash into one of the cave’s massive stalagmites. She fell to the ground, rolled, and didn’t move again.
“Ahhttt!” Scarface made a sound of pure hate before exploding towards him.
The man in black extended a hand and froze the monster mid-strike, suspending him in the air. In a flourish, the man spun, twirled his sword around and delivered an overhead slash that decapitated the pale man.
Scarface’s head rolled in front of Lyla’s — a savage look still in its eyes, mouth wide with bloody, pointed teeth. She wanted to scream but didn’t dare. Through sheer will, she found herself rising from the ground.
Grom faced the man alone with axe held ready. He screamed, “You were the chosen one! We should have killed you a long time ago. The only reason that you live now is because of the prophecy!”
“I don’t believe in prophecy,” the man in black said and held his sword point to the ground in front of him. Standing now, Lyla noticed Grom’s eyes shifting solid white, his muscular body swelling as he pulled more energy from some unknown reservoir. He attacked the man with a savagery like she’d never seen before. It caught the man off guard, and a punch to the chest sent him flying. The man in black flipped in the air and landed on his feet, crouched with a fist to the ground. He snarled and exploded, leaving a wake of dust and rock behind him. Grom did the same and both men collided with a shockwave that rattled the cave, causing more debris to fall from the ceiling.
The stones in the cave shown brighter than ever as the two men fought. Lyla looked down, finding a soul stone pulsating as if urging her to take it. She bent and took it into her hand. She could feel it calling her; willing her to use its power. Her body coursed with heat, her straining arm extended towards the men. A green light suddenly filled the cave, blasting from the stone, blinding her to the point that she was forced to shield her eyes with her free hand. After a moment it disappeared, leaving Grom suspended in the air, surrounded by a green swirling wind.
“You bitch!” he cursed, struggling against the bond. “Stay out of this!”
Before he could say another word, the man in black thrusted his sword up through Grom’s throat. The blade protruded from his skull and dripped with fragments of bone and brain. He cast him to the side and the body convulsed on the ground as blood pooled around the head.
Lyla still reeled from the power of the stone after the glow faded away, leaving it looking like an ordinary rock. Kneeling and breathing deep, she felt drained — like she had nothing left. Her will to fight was gone. She knew this man would probably kill her and lay claim to the garden.
She looked up as his eyes locked onto her.
She grabbed her staff and scrambled to her feet. With shaking hands, she stood as tall and threatening as she could.
He walked towards her. “Who are you? How did you learn to use the power of the stones?” he asked.
Before she could reply, someone coughed and moaned from behind them. The man in black stormed to the broken woman and Lyla followed.
“You bastard… son of a bitch,” Ros choked out as blood trickled from her mouth. Lyla knew from the sound that her lungs had been crushed and were taking on blood. She was in her final moments of life. “How could you have betrayed us? After everything we’ve been through…” Ros wheezed.
“There is no us,” the man in black replied. “I’m not with Victor, the damned dark society, or anyone else for that matter. Each and every one of you will get what you deserve.”
Lying broken on the ground, Ros raised her neck and glared at the man. “So… will you… Lucian.”
Upon hearing the name, Lyla froze. This was the man who killed Arkin’s father. The same man who massacred the people in the market at the capital.
He crouched, wiping the hair from Ros’s face. Even in her final moments, she was beautiful.
“Funny… I thought you were… someone else when you entered the cave.” Her eyes were fixed on Lucian. “A young man… Arkin. We met him… on the road.”
“Arkin?” Lyla choked out. “How do you know him!”
Ros regarded her with a smile before turning her gaze back to Lucian. She touched his face. “We were good together… once.” Her words faded away as her eyes rolled into the back of her head. Lucian ran his fingers over her face and closed her eyes one last time. He turned to Lyla.
“Arkin. Levi’s son?” he asked, turning to her.
Shaking, and too weak to fight, she looked down.
He raised her chin. “Don’t make me ask again, girl.”
She looked at him with tears in her eyes. “Yes.”
“Where is he?”
She shook her head. “I don’t know.”
He gripped her face tighter and stared into her eyes, searching. “I believe you,” he said and released her. He began to leave.
“Where are you going?” she cried.
“None of your business,” he said, bending down to tuck a couple of stones on his person.
She stepped towards him. “If you’re going after Arkin, then it is my business! If you harm him, I’ll kill you,” she promised.
He met her serious gaze. “I’m not after Arkin. There’s someone else who demands my attention at the moment.” He walked to the tunnel that held the rope. Lyla followed him.
“Where are you going, then?”
“You’re an inquisitive one, aren’t you. It’s really none of your business, but if you must know, I’m going to Kingsport.” He gripped the rope and began to climb. Before his feet left the ground, he paused and turned back to her. “How did you find this place?”
“A book — The Path of Man.”
Lucian smiled and shook his head, recalling all of the shit that he’d been through over that book. All of the mistakes that he made. He turned back to the rope.
“What are you going to do?” she asked.
He stood fixed in place, staring into the vastness of the cave. She awaited his reply, which seemed like it would never come. Finally, he turned his head to the side and answered her.
“I’m going to kill the king.”
Lyla ran to Rico after Lucian climbed into the tunnel and out of the cave. She cursed herself for not looking after her friends sooner, even if it was just a few minutes of conversation with the man in black— she had to know what he planned and how he knew Arkin. She knelt beside Rico as
he came to.
“Easy,” she said, placing a hand on him as he rose to his knees. He looked around, lightheaded but ready to fight. “It’s alright, they’re gone,” she assured him.
“What happened?” he asked and slowly rose to his feet.
“Look at me,” she instructed and held a finger out. She waved it from left to right, watching his eyes follow it. “Do you feel any severe pain, broken bones, torn ligaments?”
“I’m fine,” Rico growled. “What happened?”
“A man named Lucian killed them.”
Rico looked at her like she was crazy. “What did you say?”
She nodded. “I have to tend to Torin!” She turned and ran to check on the big man.
Rico remained fixed in place, attempting to piece it all together. He looked around and marveled at the garden of stones, wondering how it came to be; how everything came to be. He walked around the cave and saw Scarface’s head lying on the ground. He picked it up with both hands and held it in front of his face for inspection.
“Rico!” Lyla screamed, “Help me!”
Rico let the head roll and ran to her.
“There’s no pulse,” she said and quickly straddled the big man. With both palms to his massive chest, she pushed as hard as she could over and over again, counting each time.
“What are you doing?” Rico asked.
She didn’t answer. She leaned down, brushed the hair from her face, put her mouth over his and blew air into his lungs. Again, she began compressing his chest.
Rico watched her repeat the act several times— pushing, breathing. He shook his head. “He’s gone, Lyla.”
“Shut up!” she yelled at him, wiping the matted hair and sweat from her face. “He can’t be.” She continued to push and began to cry, wondering if it would have made a difference had she gotten to him sooner. She knew it would have, and the thought of losing him made her sob harder. The compressions slowed as she gave into the truth of the matter. He was gone.
She fell onto him, tucked her head into his neck and sobbed sorely.
Rico watched in a numb state. He knew he should feel something, but he didn’t. He regarded Torin, emotionless.
Lyla stopped crying. “No. You can’t die.” She raised up and began pushing again. Everything in her prayed to the Almighty to save him. “You will live! You’re not done here!” she said before pressing her mouth to his. She began to compress his chest again. Suddenly, Torin coughed and wheezed air into his lungs, his eyes snapping wide open. Lyla cried for joy and hugged his neck.
“Damnit… girl…” he wheezed, still catching his breath. He gently threw an arm around her back.
She moved to the side of him and put a comforting hand on top of his head. “I thought you were dead,” she said, crying.
He coughed. “I’m too damn stubborn to die.” She laughed and wiped the tears from her face. He held her hand. “Thank you,” he said.
Rico knelt beside him and grabbed his hand. “Good to have you with us, brother.”
Torin managed a grin, though his face was a bloody wreck. “Help me stand?” he asked Rico. Rico helped the big man to his feet. Torin looked around. “What happened?” he asked them.
“You tell him, Lyla. He’d laugh if I said it.”
“What?” Torin asked, turning to Lyla.
“A man named Lucian fought the three. He killed them, then left.”
Torin found the corpses lying about the floor. “Why would he do that?”
“I don’t know. I think he intended to save us,” Lyla said.
“Not Lucian. Lucky he didn’t kill us too,” Torin stated. “Where is he now?” With peeled eyes, he searched the cave.
“He’s gone. Said he was going to Kingsport.” She met both men’s gaze. “He said he was going to kill the king.”
“Let’s hope that he does,” Torin said. “He’d be doing us and the whole damned world a favor.”
“Rico, what’s wrong?” Lyla asked, noticing his worried, blank stare.
Rico snapped out of his reverie. “Nothing. We need to leave.”
“Where? What’s the plan?” Lyla asked.
Torin looked at the stones. “Gather as many stones as you can carry. We go back to the Grand Highlands and hide them there. After that, we rejoin everyone at the camp and bring every able person with us to help carry every stone that we can.”
“Why? Nobody knows of this place,” Rico said. “We should just leave it alone.”
“Lucian knows,” Torin noted. “And I’m pretty sure that any trader or traveler to come along the road would notice that the standing stones are no longer standing. We have to move quick.”
After filling their packs with stones, they climbed the rope to the top. The sun was high in the sky. “We should be able to make the Grand Highlands by morning if we ride all night,” Torin said. He finished packing the horse as Lyla mounted her’s, ready to leave.
“What is it, Rico?” she asked, still noticing his blank stare.
“I’m not going with you,” he said, looking to the horizon.
“What?” Torin said. “What’s wrong with you man? I mean, I got the hell beat out of me, but you’re the one who’s been acting strange since.”
“I…” Rico paused, searching for words. He looked to Torin with pain in his eyes. “I’m tired of getting my ass kicked! I’m tired of being weak!”
Torin walked to put a hand on his shoulder, but Rico shrugged it away. Torin’s frustration flared at Rico, but he kept it in check, knowing that he had gone through something similar not long ago. “You win some and you lose some. There will always be someone who can best you in a fight.”
“No, there shouldn’t be. There won’t be!” he stated. “I will be the best.” He looked at his companions. “I’m done playing games.” He turned and began to walk away.
“Where are you going?” Torin asked, throwing his arms up.
Rico stopped and turned his head as he spoke. “As I said, I’m done losing, and I’m tired of being weak, so I’m going to do something about it.”
“Rico,” Lyla pleaded.
Rico pulled his pack tight and set out along his path.
“Let him go,” Torin said. He mounted his horse and gave Rico one last look. “Let’s go,” he grumbled and snapped the reigns.
Lyla felt her heart drop as she watched Rico walk away. She reigned in behind Torin.
Rico didn’t look back. He clenched his jaw. “I will become the most powerful man who has ever lived.” Speaking the words overwhelmed him and fueled each step as he walked the road that led to the Crossing.
THIRTY FIVE
Arkin stood on his hands with his body and feet held straight, toes pointed to the sky.
“Now, concentrate. Feel the earth and everything around you.” Moses instructed.
Arkin closed his eyes and focused on his breath, all the while aware of the world around him — the grass, the rocks, the trees, the birds in the sky calling as they flew over the hills on the outskirts of Cartha.
“Whenever you’re ready,” Moses said.
Arkin pulled one last breath and spoke a word. His hands left the ground, and for a moment, his body suspended in the air. In excitement, his body began to shake and he soon crashed to the ground.
Moses helped him up. “Good.”
Arkin felt incredible. He just suspended himself in the air through a power that he channeled from within!
“Now, move that stone,” Moses said, pointing.
“That’s easy.” Arkin extended a hand and whispered a word that would bond with the stone. The word didn’t matter, though; it was the connection and the name that Arkin gave it that made a thing bend to his will. The stone levitated into the air before shooting up into the sky and disappearing into the clouds. He looked at Moses and grinned.
“Now, that one,” Moses said, pointing to another.
Arkin spoke to it, but the stone didn’t move. He extended both hands and spoke again, but the stone remained
still. He breathed, closed his eyes, and concentrated. The stone didn’t budge.
Arkin threw his arms down. “Why won’t it move?” he asked.
“Because I am calling it to remain still,” Moses said. “You cannot move something that someone with greater power than you is controlling.”
Arkin frowned. “How powerful is Victor?”
Moses looked away. “He is powerful. And his power grows, still. I can feel it.”
“You can feel his power?”
“Yes, to my discomfort, I can.”
“Can you feel mine?” Arkin asked.
Moses nodded.
“Am I powerful enough to take on Victor?”
“You are not.”
Arkin desperately looked to his master for help. “Teach me everything that you know.”
“I have taught you everything I know, save for one word.”
Arkin felt another rush of excitement. “What is it? Tell me.”
Moses shook his head. “I cannot tell you this word because it is different for every person. You must learn it on your own.”
Doubt washed over Arkin, knowing that he may never be able to unlock this power. “What does it do?” He still wanted to know.
“It grants the power of healing — to heal yourself or someone else.”
Arkin’s eyes went wide. That power would have made all the difference at the Grand Highlands. So many would have lived instead of died.
“There is a fifth word,” Moses said.
“A fifth! I’ve got to know what it does.”
Moses looked away. “I do not know. That is why I still seek.”
Arkin looked confused. “Then how do you know there is a fifth word?”
Moses smiled. “The Path of Man.”
“These powers are told in the book?” Arkin asked, incredulously.
“They are. But they are not easily deciphered, as you already know.”
A thought struck Arkin. “Let’s return to my camp. Lyla has the book and we can figure it out together! Meanwhile, you can train me,” Arkin said, his eyes suddenly full of hope.
Moses took his hand. “That is not the path for either of us.”
