Guardians of Lakaya: The Catalyst

by Richmond Camero

  Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHAPTER TEN

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  Read The Wrath of the Phoenix

  Share Your Thoughts and Help an Artist Out

  Be a Guardian

  About the Author

  Guardians of Lakaya: The Catalyst

  GUARDIANS OF LAKAYA

  —

  BOOK ONE

  Richmond Camero

  Copyright

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  No part of this publication may be reproduced in any form by any means without the written permission of the publisher. The author appreciates you taking the time to read this work. Please consider leaving a review wherever you bought the book, or sharing the book to your friends or blog readers to help spread the word.

  Thank you for supporting the work of this author.

  Guardians of Lakaya: The Catalyst

  Copyright © 2016 by Richmond Camero

  All rights reserved.

  CHAPTER ONE

  “Drink,” Dror said. He was holding a goblet half filled with wine, the trace of the red liquid still evident on his lips.

  Guier snapped his head toward Dror. He stared at his face, his left eye squinting while the scarred right one was shut tight. Dror looked back with a grin on his face. Guier saw Dror’s outstretched arm with a cup of wine in his hand and realized what he was doing. Guier smiled and raised his hand, declining Dror’s offer.

  “Come on, Guier,” Dror said, punching his shoulder. “You don’t get to taste wine like this in Perennia.”

  Dror sat beside Guier on the ground. He took a swig from his cup and belched. He bowed his head in apology and offered the goblet again. Guier mused for a moment before taking the cup from Dror.

  “That’s my boy!” Dror said. He raised his cup to Guier and said, “To Perennia!”

  “To Perennia,” Guier replied. They toasted their cups and drank. Guier took a sip, while Dror drained his.

  Guier gazed at the fire in front of them. Beside them were the Akishans, their host for over a year. That night was a night of celebration. There were men and women holding hands around the fire, wearing colorful robes with shades of green and red. Strips of red paint adorned their faces, moistened by the sweat from their forehead. Every time a stray wind blew the fire, the Akishans would raise their hands and shout high pitched tones. Then they would resume dancing along with the beat of the drums and the singing and chanting of the crowd.

  “Are you ready to go back to Perennia?” Dror asked, watching the dancers.

  Guier nodded, his gaze straight to the fire.

  “Can’t believe it’s been a year,” Dror said, scratching his bristled chin. “And I can’t decide if it went quickly or not.”

  “Felt like you did not accomplish anything?”

  Dror scowled jokingly, then the expression on his face shifted. “But there’s still a lot of work.”

  Guier looked at the faces of the Akishans. They were laughing, their eyes brimming with hope. Guier stroke his long gray hair. Nobody was prepared for the Oblivian Rebellion. Everyone woke up that day believing it would be a normal day. Even he hadn’t felt that anything would go wrong around him. But it happened. Oblivia sent out its strongest forces to those who were unprepared, to those innocent villages - Akisha being one of them. It was a disaster.

  Perennia had tried to help but they were too late. In every instance, in every village, Oblivia had already gone through the villages leaving traces of loss and despair. It was as if Oblivia was teasing them, taunting them that they were always one step behind.

  After the Oblivian Rebellion, Perennia had concentrated its efforts in rebuilding all that Oblivia had destroyed. For Guier, it was an absolution for his shortcomings, for his inability to protect the Anarrians during Oblivia’s attacks. But had they really done enough? Perhaps not. The lives taken and destroyed by the Oblivian Rebellion, they would never be restored. They may be able to rebuild a village, but not the life it nurtured within its walls.

  Guier sighed. Dror looked at him and said, “Don’t be too hard on yourself.”

  “You know me too well.”

  “Of course, I’m the only one who can handle you and your self-loathing. Without me you’ll lose your head.”

  “I guess you're right.” Guier stayed silent.

  Dror was about to speak when someone spoke from the crowd. “Make way for Aban Yulik!”

  Guier looked up and scanned the group of people for the one who spoke. The celebration around them lulled into silence. The Akishans stopped dancing and gathered around the fire. He saw the group of people opposite him parted into two smaller groups, creating a path between them. They were looking at someone from the far end, waiting for him to pass by. The sound of footsteps crunching on the ground became louder and from the crowd, a cloaked man appeared. Unlike the colorful garments worn by the other Akishans, this man was wearing a pure white robe. When he reached the center, the Akishans around him bowed low to the ground. Guier and Dror stood up and bowed to the man.

  Aban Yulik raised both of his arms and the Akishans stood up. He withdrew the hood of his cloak and it revealed the face of a man hardened by time. His skin was tight, but there were wrinkles in his eyes and around the lips. Yulik also wore red paint in his face, but his was more intricate, with vine-like pattern crawling across his forehead and the side of his face. He looked around and stopped where Guier was standing. “Tonight, we give honor to those who helped us rebuild,” Yulik said. “We have been through difficult and dark times, but we were given the chance to live. Now, we are reborn.”

  The Akishans shouted in approval.

  “And this is because of Perennia’s aid.” The Aban raised his hand toward Guier and Dror beckoning for them to come to him. Guier walked towards the Aban with Dror following him behind. They went around the fire and stopped in front of the Aban. Yulik looked to his right and an Akishan came to him, bearing a long object wrapped in cloth. Yulik received it and turned to Guier. He bowed down and with outstretched arms, presented the object to Guier. He removed the cloth and it revealed a sword sheathed in a golden scabbard filled with precious stones.

  “This is one of the most valuable treasures of the Akishan tribe, the sword of the first Aban,” Yulik said. “Please accept this as a sign of our gratitude.”

  Guier looked at the sword, his hands still beside his hips. “We appreciate this gift Aban Yulik but we helped you because it was our duty.” Guier pointed to the sword. “This belongs to your family.”

  Yulik chuckled. “You are modest, Gatekeeper. But the greatest of deeds deserves the greatest gifts. We owe our future to you.” Yulik bowed and offered the sword to Guier. The sword gleamed, its luster magnified by the light of the fire.

  “If you’re not going to take it, I will,” Dror whispered between his teeth.

  Guier threw Dror a glance. He held out his hands and bowed. “We thank you for this gift, Aban Yulik,” Guier said, taking the sword.

  Yulik faced the Akishans and said, “Today, we become Perennia’s brothers!”


  The Akishans shouted in response. The sound of drums and music swelled again in the air. One by one, the Akishans returned on their feet and went near the fire. With their hips swinging and the wine in their cups sloshing, the celebration went up to its peak.

  Guier handed the sword to Dror and he received it with a sheepish grin. He walked near Yulik and said, “Thank you for your hospitality, Aban Yulik,” he said. “We are fortunate to be welcomed to your home.”

  Yulik waved his hands and said, “No, it is us that should be thankful. You are of great help to us.” Yulik bowed and walked away from them. The Akishans that were dancing made way for Yulik. Guier watched the Aban walked back to where he came from until he was out of sight. When Guier turned to Dror, he was already wrapping the sword with the cloth.

  “That was nice,” Dror said, securing the wrap with several knots of rope. When Dror finished, they walked away from the celebration by the fire. “I better put this in my pack.”

  “I’ll join you,” Guier said. They started walking toward their camp. They passed through the houses of the Akishans, small cottages made out of wood. With the Akishans joining the celebration, only a few cottages remained lit. Walking through the town for probably the last time, Guier remembered the times when they had dined with the townsfolk. They were merry and hospitable. Each supper felt like a feast. He smiled at the thought and promised himself that he would come back here. Someday.

  When they reached the outskirts of town, Guier said, “Have you seen the others?”

  “Wasn’t looking for them. Besides, they deserve to have fun.”

  “As long as they’re not drinking themselves to death. We'll leave at first light.”

  “Don’t worry, I’ll tie them to my horse and drag them if I have to,” Dror said with a laugh.

  They reached their camp and went to their cabin. They entered and were surprised to see their companions already packing their belongings. Guier counted the men in his head. Five. His unit was complete.

  “Told you there’s nothing to worry about,” Dror said, walking to his cot in the corner of the room. The Perennian soldiers greeted Guier with smiles and went back to their packs. Guier walked past them and realized something. He was worried that his unit would drown themselves in wine and merriment. But what he didn’t see was that there was something greater than the celebration and was more fulfilling than Akisha’s wine on their minds.

  It was going back home.

  Guier felt a warm sensation in his chest and he allowed himself to relish it. He looked back at his unit, his brothers for the past year and smiled. Yes, it was time for them to come home.

  * * *

  At the break of dawn, the crow of a distant rooster rang through the cabin. Guier opened his eyes and listened to his surroundings. He heard the rooster’s crow again, but other than that, it was quiet. He sat up, deciding to start the day early. Looking around, he saw that Dror and his other companions were still asleep. A few more minutes wouldn’t hurt. Guier then stood up and made his way to the door. He went out quietly and was welcomed by the soft breeze of dawn. The sun was just rising, its rays peeking through the trees. Guier took a deep breath and he inhaled cold air with the scent of a stream nearby.

  “Peaceful, isn’t it?”

  Guier spun around and raised his fists. He was expecting that there would be someone running at him, but what he saw was Yulik. He dropped his arms on his side quickly, feeling ashamed. “Aban Yulik,” Guier said. “Forgive me, I wasn’t expecting you.”

  Yulik chuckled. “Sorry to give you a scare, my lad.”

  Guier noticed that the Aban was wearing a robe lined with fur to keep him warm. He studied Yulik’s face. Guier felt that Yulik was reading him and looking right through him. He always felt like this when talking to the Aban and through months of living with the Akishans, he had learned to ignore it. He knew Yulik was powerful and he attributed the feeling that he had with that power.

  Yulik held his hand toward the forest. “Shall we take a walk?”

  “Of course,” Guier replied. He allowed Yulik to lead. They walked away from the main road and went inside the forest. Yulik walked slowly, biding his time and observing the beech trees as if he was seeing them for the first time. They continued to walk for several minutes and when Guier looked back, he could only see the faint outline of their cabin.

  “I have to tell you something, Guier,” Yulik said.

  “I’m listening,” Guier replied.

  Yulik looked at him, his lips curved into a frown. “A few days ago, I used my Eye to look over the horizons.”

  Guier was confused for a moment before he realized what the Aban was saying. “What did you see?” Guier asked.

  “That is the problem,” Yulik frowned and turned his head to Guier. “I am not sure what I saw.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I saw the earth shaking and the sky splitting, and Perennia being a witness to all of that. The Perennian Lords were in grave distress. You too Gatekeeper.” Yulik held Guier’s shoulders. “I saw you wounded, not mortally, but wounded just the same. But beyond that, there was darkness. Have you ever found yourself in a completely dark room?”

  Guier was surprised by the question, but he said, “Yes, I have.”

  “It was like that. Being in a dark room and knowing, feeling that there was someone or something else with you. An ominous but elusive presence that you cannot see.” Yulik let the silence hung between them for a few moments and said, “That is all that I can tell you.”

  Guier gazed at the clearing, thinking about what the Aban had said. “May I ask you something?”

  “What is it?” Yulik replied.

  “Do you think…” Guier started. “Do you think this has something to do with the Oblivian Rebellion?”

  Yulik sighed. “I don’t know my child, but I hope not.”

  Guier heard laughter and chattering from where they came from. Yulik tilted his head at the direction of the sound and walked back to the camp.

  “Thank you for telling me this Aban Yulik,” Guier said. “I will relay this to the Perennian Lords when we return.”

  “Send them my best regards. I’m sorry I am not much of a help,” Yulik said.

  “This is more than enough,” Guier said.

  They reached the camp and found Dror standing outside facing away from them. Dror seemed to hear their footsteps and turned to them. “Aban Yulik,” Dror said, his eyes wide with surprise. He bowed to the Aban as greeting.

  Yulik smiled at Dror and raised his right hand. He then turned to Guier and said, “We’ll meet you at the village entrance to send you off.”

  “Yes, Aban,” Guier replied.

  Yulik walked back to the village center. Dror and Guier watched him go.

  “I knew there was something going on when I saw your bed empty,” Dror said.

  “Where are the others?” Guier asked.

  “On their way to the stables. I said we’ll meet them back in town.”

  Guier nodded and did not say anything more.

  “Is everything alright?” Dror asked.

  “I’m not really sure,” Guier replied. “I’ll tell you on our way back. We best get ready.”

  Guier retrieved his pack and his weapon, the Yggdrasil staff, from the cabin. He and Dror went back to the village and were met by some early risers. The smell of fresh bread and herbs already filled the air. They went past the village center and into the stables, where they saw some villagers handing out salted meat and bread covered in leaves to the Perennian soldiers. Guier nodded to them in thanks and went to his horse. After half an hour, they rode to the village entrance, with Guier leading the way and Dror on the rear. The Akishans cheered them as they passed through their houses. They reached the entrance and found Yulik already waiting for them, along with other Akishans.

  Guier guided his horse to face Yulik. “Come visit Perennia sometimes,” he said.

  “I will,” Yulik said, smiling. “If my health permits
me.”

  Guier smiled back. “Until we meet again.”

  Yulik bowed. “Akisha will always welcome you with open arms,” he said. “May Vethuri and Millad be your guide.”

  Guier nodded and reined his horse away from Akisha. The Perennian soldiers waved to the villagers and the Akishans responded with shouts and cheers. Dror was the last to depart after giving them an exaggerated bow.

  With the words of Aban Yulik still in Guier’s head, he led their way back to Perennia

  CHAPTER TWO

  “I see it,” one of the Perennian soldiers said.

  “Finally!” Dror exclaimed, stretching his arms and adjusting his weight on the horse. “I thought I’d be sleeping with insects for the rest of my life.” He grimaced and said, “My buttocks are sore already.”

  “Serves you right for not getting down from your horse,” Guier said. The soldier was pointing to the Yggdrasil tree, standing over Perennia and rooted in the heart of it. Judging by the distance of the tree, Guier surmised that it would still take them several more hours at best. It was still late in the morning and if they maintained their speed, they would reach Perennia before night fall.

  “Always a sight to behold,” Dror said, appearing beside Guier.

  “Indeed,” Guier replied.

  Guier’s party continued on the final leg of their fourteen-day journey. The Perennian soldiers urged their horses to speed up to a gallop, only slowing down to allow them to regain their breaths. Finally, with the sun still visible in the late afternoon, they reached Perennia’s gates.

  Guier rode in front of them and waited for the guards on the battlements to see him. The guards shouted with joy at their arrival, raising the gates to allow them inside. Guier rode through the gate with his unit closely behind. When they crossed the gate, they saw that there were only a few people on the streets. Some were sweeping the front of their homes, some were crouching on the ground gambling, and some were grouped in clusters, exchanging stories and the day’s gossips.