The Legacy of the Ten: Book 01 - Eyes of the Keep

by Scott D. Muller

  “I never really thought about it, but yes. The mist is always around. Sometimes I get a glimpse of the world, just like the mist clears for no good reason. Never lasted long though, and I don’t know why it happened either. Just did!”

  “Thanks, you’ve been helpful! Go ahead and say your piece,” Men’ak bade.

  “How long has it been?”

  Men’ak looked puzzled.

  “You know, since I died?” the man asked.

  “Probably over fifteen-hundred years if you were fighting in the battles of Ror,” Men’ak said. “Why?”

  “Well, dead bones — what I had to say don’t matter anymore. That’s all.” The man said, as he dissolved into gray smoke and was swept away.

  A little girl stepped up and stared into Men’ak’s face.

  “I don’t know you,” she said.

  “I’m Men’ak.”

  “Hail Men’ak. Have you seen my mom and dad?” she asked as she looked around at the mist.

  She was holding a well-worn rag doll that only had a single arm. The girl clung to the doll tightly and rocked back and forth. Men’ak wasn’t sure what to say.

  Men’ak stooped down. “And who might you be?”

  “I’m Lana,” the girl said. “Pleased to meet you!”

  “Well, Lana. I’m not sure where your mom and dad are. What do they look like?”

  “Oh,” the little girl said, with a heavy sigh. “I miss them a lot. They took me away. My mom is in a blue dress and my dad is wearing green pants and a brown shirt.”

  Men’ak shook his head, “I don’t recall seeing them today.”

  “Maybe I’ll come back tomorrow,” she said with a sniffle.

  She stepped away and wandered back into the mist. Men’ak was so surprised he just watched her go. She was gone before he realized she had been different from all the rest. He called after her, “Lana? Lana?”

  She didn’t answer. He had expected her to disappear like the rest. He stood for a while trying to puzzle out what had just happened, but he couldn’t make any sense of it. He knew it would bother him and dig in his craw until he figured it out. That was just the way of things, sometimes you had to fret for a while before the answer came to you.

  For a while, the people came and went. Next, he had a couple encounters with dead demons, if there were such a thing. He wasn’t sure why demons were there, that was another conundrum about this place that left him baffled. This place had no rhyme or reason to it, and he didn’t have the sagacity to figure it out.

  On the positive side, Men’ak found the information that came from the demons to be most interesting if not cryptic. Some spoke in old tongues he didn’t recognize, some quoted prophecy he wasn’t familiar with — but most told him snippets of things they had done or seen done. Many of the tales didn’t seem to fit into any puzzle he knew about.

  Men’ak scratched his head. He hypothesized that as time passed, he would have gathered enough stories to get a handle on the larger picture, but right here and now? Well, that was a different animal and it wasn’t anything he recognized.

  In the end, after all had come and gone, there was a single small gray-skinned demon waiting in the field. The small wrinkled and leathery creature stood to the side pacing nervously letting every other soul talk. As Men’ak bade him to come forward, the demon turned and began trying to run away, but he was being pulled to Men’ak’s side. His feet slid over the ground even as he dug his heals in. Men’ak was befuddled as he watched.

  The demon appeared to be fighting with all his might to get away clawing at the ground, but could not. Men’ak was not sure what strange creature or power it was that caused this behavior, but something appeared to be holding the demon in place, if not shoving him backwards until he was standing in front of Men’ak.

  Men’ak stared down at a nearly baldhead, creased with scars, scratches, boils and caked blood. “Well, you’re the last, what do you want demon?”

  “I want nothing from you,” the demon spat looking the seer.

  He scowled into Men’ak’s eyes, but quickly averted his gaze and stared at the ground. Men’ak could see how much it despised being asked to talk as it sneered, twisting its mouth. Long pointy ears twitched uncontrollably as the demon pulled at the tufts of fur growing from them, “Leave me be.”

  It’s pasty skin seemed almost wet, almost translucent and a sickening green gray color. The demon crossed his little arms and turned his back to the mage.

  Men’ak was repulsed by the mere sight of the creature, but figured he really didn’t have any choice if he wanted to eventually get some rest, “Surely you stood in line for hours for some reason?”

  “Didn’t! I tell you. Didn’t expect to be here, besides, I can’t tell you…,” the demon groaned. “Let me go.”

  Men’ak threw up his hands confused by the demon’s behavior, “I’m not holding you. Can’t you just tell me what you wanted to say so we can both leave?”

  “Can’t tell you about the master plan,” The demon hissed, shaking its little head vehemently from side-to-side. “No, I can’t.”

  “Ah, the Master Plan — and what plan would that be?”

  The little demon turned around hesitantly. “Well, it’s not the plan about taking over the Keep, or killing all the mages — oh, no it isn’t. There’s no plan like that …,” the demon said, as its small frame began to violently shake.

  “It’s not?” Men’ak asked playfully, cracking a smile. “Pray tell me, what evil and troublesome plan do you have?”

  “Okay, so it is. No, it isn’t,” the demon pouted. “You wouldn’t understands it anyways, you’re a human.”

  Men’ak stood straight and placed his hands on his hips, “So why can’t humans understand?”

  “Because humans don’t know all abouts demons and demon kind,” said Zax arrogantly. “Only the old mages knew about us. They learned it from the Great Book, but the book is lost ….”

  “Wizards do!” Men’ak pointed out.

  “Yep! But you ain’t no wizard. You’re just a simple seer,” said Zax snidely, eying Men’ak up and down.

  Men’ak raised a brow, “I’m not, aye? What makes you say that? Maybe I am ….”

  “Not!” said Zax, shaking his undersized head and holding up his hand with his fingers held just slightly apart. “Ye got no magic. I knows magic, and ye got just a tiny, tiny amount. Amount, that amounts to nothin’!”

  Men’ak tried not to show any surprise. Apparently, only ancient magic registered in this place. What really surprised him, was that he was in this place at all. He didn’t understand how he could be here and back in his room at the same time, and it really made no sense at all that the little demon in front of him could tell if he was or wasn’t a wizard, since by rights, he wasn’t even here, there … whatever, or was he?

  Just the thought of it made his head hurt. He’d have to think long and hard on it later when he had gotten some sleep — a mead or two wouldn’t hurt the cause either!

  “So which is it? Either the plan is about the wizards and the Keep, or it’s not.’

  “It is, it is. Don’t tell anyone I told you…,” the demon said, with a scared look on his crunched up face. His small black eyes darted back and forth, as he looked around searching the mist. “The Master would be displeased, and he would burn and hurt Zax again.”

  Men’ak was surprised that the demon had leaked his name, “You’re Zax?”

  “NNnnnn..yes!” the demon replied as he grimaced.

  For demons, at least as he’d read, knowing their name is paramount with being able to summon and control them.

  “Do you have to answer my questions,” Men’ak supposed. “Zax?”

  Zax bit his lip and squeezed his eyes closed a he wrung his hands, “Y.y.y.yyyessss! No-no-no-no…”

  “Why is your master not here?” Men’ak queried, curious that a master demon would allow a servant to wander this far without some kind of supervision.

  “Cause he’s not de
ad like me,” he said, placing his small claw-shaped hands on his bony and protruding hips.

  “You’re dead. Aren’t all demons dead?”

  Zax looked at the seer in absolute confusion, “Of course I’m dead, everything here is dead but you. Why you asking such silly questions? Everyone knows that there is dead and there is really dead. I’m really dead now, but not for long. No, no, no! You better hurry, cause I’ll be back in the planes in a while. A little while. Hmmm, yes!”

  “So how did you end up dead?”

  “Another silly question? You’re a silly seer, not like the other one. He’s cruel and very mean. But, he is so, so very smart in the demon ways. Scary smart he is! You want me to play along, so I will, yes, I will. I’m dead because that’s what happens when demons die, but we don’t die,” Zax laughed, amused by his own logic as he slapped his knee. “We get deader!”

  “Master was angry and killed me really dead. Master killed me slow. It hurt so much. Zax screamed, Zax begged master to be quick, kills Zax quick,” Zax said, before lowering his voice to a whimper. “Screaming doesn’t help…the Master likes screaming. Better to just swallow the pain.”

  Men’ak shuddered, “What do you mean you will be back in the planes?”

  “Silly seer! Demons is already dead like, we are either here or there. We cannot be staying dead in the mist plane forever. You need to either sink back to the planes or go away…” Zax nodded.

  “Go away? Where do you go?”

  Zax shrugged, “How should Zax know? Zax has never been to the other place, I always am sinking back to the planes. Zax doesn’t know where the others go…but once you go there, you don’t ever comes back here no more … or to the planes! You be gone then! Real gone-gone.”

  Men’ak nodded. At least he understood what the demon was telling him, even if the context eluded him, “So Zax, can you tell me about the Master’s plan?”

  Zax collapsed onto the dirt and started pounding down with his fists, “Don’t make Zax say, pleases? I don’t want to be deads again. Zax hates this ugly nowhere place.”

  “It’s okay Zax, I won’t tell anyone — but I really need to know.”

  Zax looked up, “Means it?”

  “I mean it. It’ll be between you and me,” Men’ak said, as he smiled.

  “You smiled, you smiled,” Zax cowered and yelled pointing. “You means to hurt Zax. Zax knows that look. Master always smiles right before he kills Zax.”

  Men’ak looked down at the small cowering creature, “Zax, I don’t want to hurt you. I’m not even going to touch you!”

  “How does Zax know?” he said as he inched forward, looking into Men’ak’s eyes with the coldest black eyes Men’ak had ever seen.

  “I will stay over here and I will put my hands in my pockets. You can stay there. That way, you can run away if you think I am going to kill you.”

  Zax stopped whining and stood up. He didn’t even brush himself off. He eyed the seer with disdain, “Keep your hands in your pockets, seer!”

  Men’ak looked down and saw that he was now wearing a robe. Where the Ten did that come from? He could have sworn he was naked just a second ago.

  “Master is planning a big plan. A big, big plan to gets rid of alls the wizards”

  Men’ak’s jaw dropped, “All the wizards?”

  “Yes! Yes! Alls of them, they’re almost all gone and dead anyway. Just a few more wizards that aren’t really wizards left to go. Master says there’s just a few more.”

  “But why? We don’t bother demons and demons hate the surface?”

  “Ugly place, it’s true. Don’t like it much — wait a second, you said we! We ain’t a wizard! Why did we says we?”

  “Well, wizards are human and I’m human so I just said it. So why is he doing it?”

  Zax stared at the seer suspicious that he was missing something. He rubbed his chin and paced back and forth.

  “I’ m waiting —,” said Men’ak.

  “He needs wizards to …,” Zax said, as he started to fade away. Zax looked down at his hand and broke into a big grin, shoving his festered and decaying teeth.

  “What does he need wizards for? Tell me?” Men’ak demanded.

  “Zax is going home. You’re too late wizard ….”

  And with that, the demon sank into the ground and faded away.

  Damn! He had been so close. Men’ak felt denied, as if he had just been bested at a game of King’s Keeper. What the demon had said, bothered him, and bothered him to his core. What was this master plan? Who was the master? How come the demon didn’t believe he was a mage? He realized that he would have to get better at asking questions, sticking to the point and getting what information he needed, especially with demons, which as he learned, can be called back from the nether at any time.

  Men’ak looked around. He was alone. There were no dead souls yelling, no demons fighting, just him and his patch of red dirt. The mist slowly got heavier and the fog denser until Men’ak couldn’t see his hand in front of his face. Men’ak got down on the ground, curled up in a ball and closed his eyes.

  Men’ak lazily stepped his way down the narrow stairs, making sure he didn’t bump his head on the low-hanging beam. He saw Dra’kor and D’Arron sitting near the fire, deep in conversation. He raised his hand to shield his eyes as he squinted peering out the window through the bright sunlight filtering in through the wide-open shutters. There was a light breeze and it rustled the thin cotton curtains as they blew in and out of the open frame.

  “Am I too late for breakfast?” he said cheerfully as he grabbed a stool from near the staircase, and pulled it along behind as he walked across the room. It creaked as he dragged it across the floor, bumping its legs across the grout lines between the large soft tiles.

  Dra’kor looked up, “Good Afternoon! How about lunch?”

  Men’ak nodded, “I’m starving!” He finished his walk over and set the chair down to join Dra’kor and D’Arron. He lifted a leg over the stool and leaned on it with his right leg firmly anchored on the floor.

  “I’ll get you some lunch,” said D’Arron curtly. “I have some mutton cooking in the back. I’ll bring you a couple slabs and some fresh bread and butter.”

  “Thank you,” said Men’ak thoughtfully.

  “You don’t have to thank me,” D’Arron said, brushing her hair back behind her ear as she got up and excused herself from the room. She lowered her eyes, “I’m glad you feel better.”

  “Much better, thank you!” Men’ak smiled back although he knew she didn’t notice. “I’ve been feeling horrible these past few days and I’m afraid I’ve been rather unpleasant to everyone. I’m really sorry!”

  “You have been a bit of a curmudgeon,” D’Arron gathered their tea cups and hurried out through the door to the kitchen.

  Dra’kor looked at Men’ak, “You look better. The bags under your eyes are almost gone.”

  Men’ak lowered his head, “I still feel beat, but I’m better. Look Dra’kor, I’m sorry about what I said last night, I was out of line —”

  “Ah, don’t worry about it,” Dra’kor said, waving it off. “Some of the things you said were — Well, let’s just leave it at that. I have been a bit of an idiot.”

  “Will you forgive me?” Men’ak said, as the corner of his mouth turned up. He searched Dra’kor’s face for a hint.

  “Why not?” Dra’kor joked as he took a drink from his rather huge mug. “We’re best friends, right?”

  “We are! Now if I can get D’Arron to forgive how rude I’ve been the past few days.”

  Dra’kor laughed as he wiped the mead from his mustache, “That won’t be so easy. You’re going to have to be awfully sweet to make up for your foul mouth!”

  “No, I don’t suppose it will be,” Men’ak echoed somberly. “Was I that bad?”

  Dra’kor had been in the middle of another sip when he almost choked and sputtered, spitting mead everywhere.

  “I see …,” Men’ak groaned.

/>   “But for me,” Dra’kor leaned over with a grin and patted his friend’s leg, “— you’re forgiven. Now tell me how did you sleep?”

  Men’ak yawned, “I slept great. Well, not great, but a hell of a lot better than I have in weeks. What you suggested I do — and once you sat with me, it worked. I didn’t wake up until this morning.”

  “— this afternoon,” Dra’kor corrected.

  “Well, yes!” he grinned sheepishly. “Afternoon.”

  Dra’kor leaned close and lowered his voice, “So, the dead left you alone?”

  Men’ak chuckled, “Not exactly. I did what you suggested and tried to find out what they wanted. It was harder than I thought, but eventually, I got them to wait their turn and tell me what they needed to say. They fought and talked, but eventually they all left.”

  “Left?”

  Men’ak shrugged, “Yes, they just kind of wandered off, faded away, dissolved into a cloud of smoke.” He motioned with his hands. “All except for this one little girl named Lana. She just walked off into the mist. It was the weirdest thing. Still haven’t been able to figure that one out.”

  “Where do they go?”

  Men’ak got a quizzical look on his face, “Back to the nether I suppose, pass on to another plane. Who knows? I didn’t really ask —”

  “Suppose not. What did they want?’

  “Varied I guess. I suppose some wanted to meet me, as if they were compulsively driven to do so. Others had warnings, some wanted to apologize.”

  Dra’kor’s brow raised, “Apologize? For what?”

  “All kinds of things. For what’s about to happen, for disturbing me, scaring me, and for things did, or said … you know?”

  Dra’kor harrumphed, “How could I possibly know? They don’t talk to me. You’re the deathwalker.”

  “Deathwalker, I’m —” Men’ak felt a bit foolish. He was struggling to come up with the right words to describe what he experienced. “Some deathwalker! They seem to have to talk to me. It’s almost as if it causes them pain to not confide in me, well some of them anyway. The one dead man I remember most told me we have to go, that they need us in Five Peaks.”

  “Did he say why?”

  “He said that they were hurting, being hunted. Sounds like the same beasts as here, but there was also this other beast that he couldn’t really describe. He wouldn’t be any more specific than that.”