With a full stomach, Rasi thought of his wife, Edonea, and the rumors she must have heard. My love, I’m coming.
The light from the two dawning suns shined on the upper edges of his would-be tomb. A tree root protruded from the stone wall near the top of his pit. He knew he could never reach it but he had to try. He dragged his hands along the rocky wall. The stones met with small, finger-width gaps where mortar should have been. Years of weather had taken its toll.
He stuffed his fingertips into a tight crevice just above his head. With a grunt, he pressed his cold, numb toes against the stone, wedging them into the gaps. His arm shook. His other arm hung limp at his side.
It was no use. He lowered his feet to the ground. His task would have been difficult with two good arms, but with one, he hadn’t a chance. He pressed his forehead against the wall and cursed it.
The skin on his back tugged upward. He slowly lifted his head. One of the meaty straps had crammed its tip into the wall high above.
He stared, his mouth agape, his feet lifted slightly from the ground. The strap tugged at his back, breaking his trance.
He shoved his fingers into the cracks and pulled. The strap held his weight as he reached higher. The other straps joined the effort.
His bicep burned, his injured shoulder ached, but the image of his beautiful wife awaiting his return prodded him past the pain. His fingertips stung and bled. One of his toenails ripped away and he winced, but refused to quit.
The root represented his freedom and he pushed toward it. Most of the morning passed before the root came within reach of his newest limbs. He dug his nails in for one last thrust toward freedom. His straps released and stretched for the root. But then, with freedom so close, his weakened toes gave way and his weight wrenched against his fingers and good shoulder. His hand ripped free. He had time for one thought.
I’ve lost.
Just as he began to fall, the skin on his back tugged at his bone, jarring him to a stop. He peered over his shoulder toward the suns’ light and the single strap that hung onto the root. He dug his fingers into the crevices again. Another strap reached over the edge of the hole and grasped something, maybe another root. With a strong thrust, Rasi pulled to freedom.
He flopped onto his back and inhaled delicious gulps of the fresh, frigid air. His pupils constricted in the brightness, struggling to recapture their focus.
CHAPTER 5
THE HARDEST LOSS
The two suns streaked across the sky, disappeared over the edge of the world, and rose again while Rasi traveled through the treacherous mountain terrain. He didn’t eat. He didn’t rest. He did nothing but press onward toward the setting suns and Thasula.
The snow fell sideways and pounded against his tired body and face, blinding him and burying the ground beneath an ocean of white. His bare feet hid below the surface and he wondered why they hadn’t turned black and dead in the cold. His face was flush; his body was feverish.
Finally, Rasi approached the base of a familiar mountain. The maps called it Widow’s Run, he knew from his war studies. That meant Shadows Peak and the Forest of Concore at its base weren’t much farther. Another day’s walk and I’ll be home, my love.
His burning legs begged him to stop, to rest, if only for a moment, but he refused. By evening, the snow had let up enough that he saw Shadows Peak in the distance.
As he entered a clearing between the mountains, his straps grew tense. He stopped as he, too, sensed that he was no longer alone. He had sensed that he was being followed for quite some time.
His secret pursuer announced his arrival, ending the game. “Rasi,” he shouted. “Turn and face me.”
Rasi slowly turned. He didn’t know the hulk of a man, nor did he much care to. He scowled at the stranger. Anything or anyone who came between him and his destination was about to regret that choice.
The man moved cautiously forward until Rasi could see the scars on his face. The straps flared out around the threat. The man watched them closely from the corner of his eyes.
Something glistened at the stranger’s side and he grinned at Rasi’s recognition of it. No use hiding it now. He shed his long winter fur, revealing a blade protruding from his elbow in place of his right arm.
“Good soldier,” he said. “Always sizing up your enemy.”
“I hathn’t dime thor you,” Rasi muttered, barely understanding his own garbled words.
“You hathn’t dime? What? The mighty Rasi can’t speak?” The stranger scanned him from feet to head and back down again. He smirked. “The scout said you killed the rashta but I didn’t believe it. Elijah sent me to make sure you didn’t escape the pit, yet here you are.”
Rasi ignored his taunts and turned away. “I hab bidnis.”
“What’s your hurry?” the stranger said. “I’ve already paid a visit to your lovely wife.” While those words pierced Rasi’s heart, a bloody scarf landed in the snow at his feet. The stranger licked his lips. “Tasty.”
Rasi choked back a mouthful of raw stomach acid. He recognized the scarf, a gift he had once given Edonea. An animalistic growl escaped his throat and he gnashed his teeth together.
There will be no mercy this day. He leaped at his foe. The big man was fast, faster than his size led Rasi to believe. Rasi dodged the beast’s massive arm as it whizzed past. Rasi crashed his fist into the man’s jaw with a dull thud, winced and pulled his hand back, wondering if he had done himself more damage than he had his foe. The beast of a man refused to stifle his antagonistic, taunting laughter.
Though the armblade was fast, even one-armed, Rasi was faster, landing punch after punch while narrowly avoiding each counter shot. Rasi prayed for an opportunity to make the attacker regret his arrogance, but with each heavy blow he landed, the behemoth seemed to become stronger. Rasi knew he himself was becoming weaker as the fight raged on.
The battle was long and violent and Rasi gave all he could, but his foe was too strong, too fresh. Finally, Rasi had given all he had left and could not avoid the onslaught any longer.
“Uh!” He grunted as searing pain sliced through his good shoulder and into his chest cavity. The straps responded instinctively, wrapping the wound. His blood ceased to spill onto the white ground, but it didn’t mute the hurt. Before he could recover, excruciating pain erupted from his nose as it exploded into a red volcano. He dropped to his knees, eyes blurry with tears.
Thunder rumbled in the sky and the clouds darkened, announcing a dreaded mountain storm.
The beast of a man hovered above him, his once-glistening armblade now dulled with red smear. He raised his sharp appendage into the air again, this time preparing for the killing blow. Rasi lowered his head. He was too tired, too weak to resist. If he had met this murderer when he was rested and uninjured, he’d have killed him, he was sure. But not this time.
I’m coming to you, Edonea. If not in this world, in the next.
The beast smiled with flexed muscles.
“Good-bye, Rasi. You were formidable, I suppose. Heh, heh.”
Rasi braced for the coming death strike while angry songs of thunder rang in his ears. His wife’s long, silky hair flashed into his mind. He smiled, remembering her perfect scent. He would use that scent as his guide in the afterlife.
He flinched as he sensed the beast’s blade swing toward his neck. His anger rose inside him, helpless to release. He clenched his jaw. Finish this, he silently ordered.
But death did not come. Instead a blood-curdling scream rang out over the thunder. Rasi was startled to realize it wasn’t from his own lungs. He opened his eyes. The beast of a man writhed on the ground while the whiteness changed to crimson sludge around him. Blood spurted into the air from where his arm, his weapon, once was.
Rasi lifted his gaze to his hovering straps. The bloody stump of his enemy’s arm hung beneath them with tendons and ligaments dangling from its end.
Rasi rose to his feet, reinvigorated. He glared at his fallen opponent as the beast struggled to
crawl, a trail of blood and meat left in his wake. The man, once so cocky, whimpered like a beaten dog as he slithered away.
Rasi’s new straps snapped like cobras in the air, eager for more blood. The one around his arm uncoiled from the now-clotted wound. Adrenaline surged through his veins and he wondered if that was what kept him standing. He was excited and strong and wanted more.
I am invincible.
Rasi gave his fallen foe his back. He didn’t know if this armblade would survive bleeding in the cold, mountainous landscape, nor did he care. He left with the solace that the murderer’s likely death would not be a pleasant one. As he drudged through the whiteness, he could no longer hear his enemy’s cries and he grinned.
The temperature dropped as a storm and the night approached. It was a more bitter night than the others and for the first time Rasi began to feel the sting of the cold. The snow fell heavier from the gods, covering his tracks as quickly as he made them. He stumbled several times but somehow kept his footing. His stomach rumbled again, angry at its lack of nourishment. He could no longer feel his toes. The black bite of frost that he was so fortunate to have missed would not stay away much longer. Too weak to push onward, he fell to his knees. His legs quivered as he tried to push himself to his feet but he had nothing left.
Maybe I should lie down. Rest for just a moment.
With no more strength to push him, he gave up.
As he started to close his eyes, he caught a sliver of hope poking through the pounding blizzard. Maybe it was a mirage, maybe it was real, he could no longer tell. He had to try. He could make it, he told himself, for it was Shadows Peak that stood in the distance. But that wasn’t what gave him hope. No, his hope lay with a long-forgotten cave on the mountain’s side. The brutal wind beat at his exposed skin as he willed himself back to his feet one last time.
He staggered through the whiteness until he reached the cave. A couple of steps into the darkness and he collapsed onto his face. Sleep will be beautiful, he told himself, even if I don’t wake up.
A frost beetle scurried past. Rasi summoned his remaining strength to snatch it and shove it into his mouth. Too weak to chew, the bitter insect squirmed on the soreness that was his tongue. After several weak attempts, he choked the scurrying beetle down his throat.
A small stream of melted snow trickled past his head and he slurped it into his mouth. The moonlight at the cave’s entrance disappeared as the whiteness rose. One by one, each of his new and strange straps lay down beside him, beaten and exhausted. His last thoughts were fears of another predator choosing the cave as its refuge as well, but he forced those thoughts from his mind. There was no sense in worrying. If that was his fate, he could not avoid it and he would be food by morning. He had no more fight and faded into unconsciousness.
CHAPTER 6
SAVIOR
Rasi awakened long enough to wonder if he was alive or dead. Either would suit him fine.
A glimmer of sunlight peaked through the cave’s entrance as some kind of creature dug at the ever-widening gap of piled snow. Rasi fought his eyelids but lost again.
Rasi opened his eyes, stunned that he was able. A dark blur stood before him. The blur was Death. Rasi smiled. I’ve been waiting for you.
Like a dream, the cold eyes of death faded, replaced by another’s face. If the cold and starvation hadn’t taken him, he was sure this stranger would.
Another hallucination? he wondered. The stranger’s warm, gloved hands grasped beneath Rasi’s armpits and pulled his limp body deeper into the cave. He fell asleep again for what he hoped was the last time.
Rasi felt warmth tickle his face and forced his eyelids open against their gooey coating. His mouth was dry like he’d been chewing on cotton. A fire flickered before him.
He moaned as he lifted his arm.
“Easy, old friend,” a familiar voice said.
“Therik?” Rasi mumbled which hurt his throat.
“It is me. Rest, friend.”
Just as the gods had brought such a horrible winter upon him, to redeem themselves, they brought his friend, Terik, as a savior.
As the weeks passed, Rasi’s strength slowly returned. Terik arrived each morning with rations and anti-infection medications.
One such morning, Terik’s demeanor was somehow different, sadder than usual. For most of the morning he hid what troubled him, but Rasi had been his friend long enough to know something was wrong.
After a pause, Terik blurted, “This will be my last trip for awhile.” He intentionally kept his eyes away from his old friend. “I fear I may not be able to prevent suspicion if I continue to sneak up here.” He paused. “I brought something for you. I have been taking care of Salient since you left and brought him along today. He is a fine stallion and deserves to be with his owner.”
Neither man made a sound as they sat by the campfire. There was one subject they had avoided all these days but Rasi could not allow Terik to leave without knowing for sure.
“Ith it ’rue?” he asked.
Terik lowered his head for what felt like an eternity. Though Rasi knew the answer, he allowed himself the slightest bit of hope.
Terik’s answer was as brutal as it was final. “I am sorry, friend. By the time I found out about your banishment and went to your home, it was too late. I made sure Edonea’s body was treated with respect and that she had a proper burial.”
Rasi’s heart burned as though set afire. He rolled onto his knees, vomited, and clutched his chest. He pressed his palms against his face with a force that left red blotches on his skin.
“Rasi, I know you didn’t do what they accuse you of.” Terik paused, maybe seeking validation but receiving none. “You cannot return to Epertase. Everyone is angry. They think you are a monster. King Cecil, himself, was devastated to hear of the charges against you. He didn’t want to believe it, but he had no choice. The evidence against you was staggering. Thasula’s citizens have called for your head but he went against the masses. He declared the barbaric armblade’s brutal execution of your wife as punishment enough. He declared your killing of him in self-defense and that you faced no additional charges. He called off the hunt for you and announced that, due to your loyal service, your death sentence was absolved. But he said you are never to set foot in the territories again.” Terik placed his hand on Rasi’s shoulder. “Old friend, go back home to Puimia. Hide with your parents. Live your life in peace.”
You mean disgrace. Rasi’s mind flashed back to the empty, dead stare of the poor, murdered girl he was too weak to save. She deserves justice. No, I will stay here. These mountains are my life now. He nodded to his friend in agreement while staring at the floor.
“Good. I will look you up in Puimia one day.”
Rasi felt emptier than ever before.
Hatred for the prince consumed him, keeping him warm through the bitter, lonely winter. He must do it right. He must take his time and plan with vigilance. Elijah would not be easy to get but it could be done.
CHAPTER 7
SCORNE
Any thought of Rasi was little more than a bad memory by Elijah’s 31st birthday. To celebrate, Tevin treated him to a rare evening of drinking and gambling. By evening’s end, Elijah was up twelve coins and ready for more. They made their way deep into the city, seeking out more games of chance and suckers to swindle. It was late. Most of the citizens were safely tucked away in their homes with their families or their ale which made finding an active game more difficult.
They happened across a sleazy, rundown tavern wearing a hand-painted sign that read “Arthur’s Dive,” with the “D” written backwards. While Tevin clearly understood the dive status of the bar, Elijah had consumed too much ale to care.
Elijah plowed through the door as though everyone awaited his grand entrance. He counted five, six patrons at most in the dim shithole. A putrid stink lingered in the place like an outhouse.
“My gods,” Elijah said, covering his nose. “What is that smell?”
&
nbsp; A man shouted from behind the bar, “You’ll get used to it.” Elijah didn’t want to get used to it. He scanned the bar and found no tender, only the massive back of a hulk-sized patron. “Pretty soon you won’t notice it at all,” the man continued and that’s when Elijah saw the top of a balding head from behind the bar.
“Have a seat anywhere, hon,” a waitress hollered. “Be right with ya.”
She leaned over and shook the shoulders of an unconscious man who lay supine atop a table. The drunkard’s gut protruded into the air like a whale stuck on the beach. He didn’t budge so she lowered her ear next to his mouth to confirm that he still drew breath. He mumbled something she must not have appreciated, most likely concerning her thick breasts pressing against his chest.
She bounced back. “Don’t talk to me like that, dunghole,” she said, her language showing her class. She yanked the end of the table into the air, dumping the drunkard, along with several half-empty mugs, to the floor. He rolled to his side, unaffected, and began to snore. “Shut up,” she said with a noticeable annoyance before kicking him in his bloated gut. His cheeks puffed out with a half-vomit, half-choking sound before he swallowed, rolled to his opposite side, and continued his sleep.
She made her way to Elijah and leaned on the wobbly table. Her belly, in all of its stretch-marked glory, hung from below her shirt. “What can I get for ya?” she asked with a twang in her talk.
She couldn’t have been more than twenty-eight years old, though her weathered face indicated otherwise. Too much sun and tobacco sticks were likely the cause.
Tevin nudged Elijah and whispered into his ear, “Looks like an old blister, does she not?” Elijah chuckled, diverting his gaze to the knotted table.
“I recognize you, your highness,” she said.
Light of Epertase 01: Legends Reborn Page 3
