“Artefacts?” began Vartan. “Can you tell me—”
So you wish to know what I have for you, and you are worried about giving up your treasures in exchange for weapons of bloodshed. I told you I could read your mind - did you not believe me? Worry not, Vartan, as I am not trying to rob you of your treasures. After all, why would anyone want to risk their lives here? My assistant will only take what the artefacts are worth. They are all from different worlds and that is all I should tell you. It is what you might call ‘fate’ that you are here to receive them.
“What is your name? And what do you mean fate?”
My name does not matter. One of the artefacts will aid you in an important decision of life and death, another will save a life, and the last will reveal the truth behind lies. Even my telling you their purpose can affect your path. You can continue without them, but that decision will change your fate for eternity.
Vartan hesitated for a moment before answering. “You are asking a lot for me to trust you with so little information. I will accept your offer to take the artefacts, but how do I use them?”
Do not concern yourself with activating these objects, as once they find their true owners, they will bind to them and will activate themselves. Artefacts are not chosen; they choose you.
The trader lifted an arm toward the artefacts and made a noise like a bumblebee.
One by one, the artefacts gently lifted off the stall and hovered over to them before lazily descending into a bag by the trader’s feet. A hovering assistant grabbed hold of the bag and glided over to Vartan. He looked similar to the trader, but was smaller in size and visibly much younger. Vartan smiled warmly as he took the bag with both hands and placed it in the back of the cart. When he turned back, the assistant’s eyes opened. They swirled purple and blue and Vartan felt unable to look away from them.
Vartan couldn’t help but stare longer into his eyes, and as he looked deeper he began to see a vision of himself. He became entranced by the vision, as he did not recognise it from his memories. In this vision, he was completely surrounded by a fiercely raging battle, and many fires burned nearby. Bodies met with weapons, and blood soaked the ground around him, staining it a deep crimson. Suddenly, he saw himself flung backwards by a bolt of lightning. It was the dark sorceress Kassina, closing in on his fallen body with sword in her raised hands and a look of determination on her face.
Enough! boomed the trader’s thought, screeching through the minds of them both, and the assistant snapped his eyes shut again.
Our powers are not to be toyed with, my child, the trader scolded his assistant before addressing Vartan again. My apologies to you for my child’s actions, Vartan. It was not the right time for you to have seen that vision, if you should have seen it at all.
The trader’s son opened the laden chest and retrieved only a few glittering treasures in return. He turned to the side as he glided away and quietly sent a thought into Vartan’s mind.
Remember that the journey you take can be changed at any given moment. Changes that divert from your path will work like ripples in the continuum of time, creating a new parallel reality, said the assistant.
Vartan nodded at them both and continued on, somewhat puzzled. He left the District of Pleasure and spotted the District of Bloodshed straight ahead of him. He felt a tickling sensation as the district’s enchantment wore off and time returned to its usual momentum. He attempted to clear the vision from his mind and dissect what the trader’s son had said to him.
Kassina, he thought, trying to make sense of it all. Ripples in the continuum of time?
Vartan finally arrived at the great doors to the District of Bloodshed. Disturbingly, its flags were marked by magical blood that fell in heavy clots to splatter on the ground before instantly disappearing.
Interesting method of signage, thought Vartan as he moved to enter the building.
The building’s guardians moved abruptly aside to allow him entry. "Good luck with your trades, sir."
The building was filled with sounds of weapons being forged, and various languages were being spoken that Vartan could not understand. Every now and again, he could hear his own tongue being spoken. Strange that some beings from other worlds speak my language, he thought. Now, who shall I bargain with today?
He moved quietly through the stalls, observing the strange weapons being manufactured and beings inhabiting the building. There was an abundance of merchants and traders who all watched the large cart behind him closely, like predators stalking prey. Vartan couldn’t help but halt and take notice of one particular trader, who was not at all interested in his heavy cart. The trader looked quite relaxed and at ease with his surroundings. He sat quietly and smoked a large pipe, blowing puffs of smoke in shapes of beasts unheard of in Marithia. He wore a hat made of beautifully painted and varicoloured feathers that encircled his head, and wore what looked like dried warrior’s paint on his face. As Vartan looked closer, he could see the dark scars of many battles on the trader’s muscular arms. This appeared to be no ordinary trader, but a battle-hardened warlord.
This is exactly the kind of warrior I need, thought Vartan.
Behind the trader, Vartan saw row upon row of intricate weaponry and armour of various sizes. A large red bird stood far back, perched on one of the rows of heavy axes, watching him closely out of the corner of its right eye. The man placed his pipe down and made a strange noise that sounded like drums, and the bird screamed out, took flight and burst into flames. Vartan reeled back instinctively and crouched down, ready to avoid its hot, fiery path. The flames suddenly disappeared as it landed on the trader’s forearm, its heavy talons digging into the leather gauntlet specially created to hold its weight. The phoenix cocked her head and looked directly at Vartan with an inquisitive look. It squawked into the ear of the trader, who listened intently to the bird’s message. The trader burst into heavy laughter and turned to Vartan, who was still crouched down on the ground. The man pointed beside him to a large chair covered in various furs.
“She wondered why you would prefer to sit on dirt, when we have a chair prepared for guests. The trade chair is a lot more comfortable than dirt, we can assure you.”
Vartan smiled and puffed, "That does indeed did look very comfortable." He made his way to the chair, and overcame his embarrassment to speak. “I’m sorry about all this, but I have never had the pleasure of visiting She’Ma’Ryn before and this is all quite new to me. My name is Vartan, and I come looking for your finest weapons and armour. We fight to save all living creatures on our planet that have not already fallen into the grip of darkness, and we need all the help we can get. Can you help us?”
“She’Ma’Ryn? Is that what your people call this place? The spirits told me long ago that you would seek my guidance, although I will be honest and say that I did not expect someone so young to be here today. I suppose that one’s years spent living do not reflect a measure of our souls or strength of character. You and I are actually not so different from each other, Vartan—we were just born in different realms. I am Makya, which means ‘eagle hunter’ in my world. Allow me to show you a short glimpse of our history.” He inhaled a deep breath of grey smoke and blew out a whisky-coloured planet that was circled by three moons. “Unlike your world, which still flourishes with riches from the earth, ours was bled dry over many thousands of years of carelessness. Much like your world, we are no strangers to war and suffering. Weapons became incredibly intricate and complicated over centuries of battle, and ultimately evolved to be more destructive." With another breath, he blew out a hazy warrior who ran in fright with his weapons held high in the air. A light flew fast and hard to plummet deep into the warrior’s flesh. He clawed at his skin to get it out. Suddenly, his entire body violently exploded into thin air.
“How did that... is that even possible?” Vartan asked.
Makya nodded to the phoenix, which flew among the rows of weapons until it grasped one of them with its claws and flew it over to where Vart
an sat. Vartan caught the weapon as it was dropped down to him, and was surprised by its weight. It was almost the size of his arm, but was as light as a feather.
“Bring it up to your shoulder, and take aim without hesitation at the object I throw in the air. To use this weapon, you simply need to turn the runes at your fingertips to activate it. Beware of its power when you fire it, as there are enough charges within to dispatch ten of your enemies if you are able to hit them accurately."
Makya reached behind him to a pile of what appeared to be lifeless birds. He shook one and threw it high in the air, where it glowed for a second before suddenly taking flight. Vartan followed the bird as best as he could with the strange weapon, sweat forming on his brow in concentration. He turned the runes to send a bolt of light screaming into the bird, and his chair fell backwards onto the ground with a loud thud from the recoil. The bird squawked, fell to the ground, and struggled to free itself from the burning hot object within its breast. Suddenly it exploded, the violent force sending wind roaring past their faces.
“By the gods!” exclaimed Vartan. “This weapon is simply extraordinary!”
Makya helped him return the chair back to its place and eased him back down onto it. “Luckily, that was not a real bird. Just imagine what it could do to your enemies,” said Makya with a knowing smile.
Vartan rubbed his shoulder, still aching from the force of the weapon’s recoil. His voice strained as he asked, “I am not used to such strange weapons. Are all of your weapons this powerful?”
“I can supply you with everything your warriors will need, but it will naturally come at a price. I understand your fight better than you know, as I once was in a similar position to your own. I had the responsibility to save our people. However, for now I, too, have someone to answer to for making these weapons. What do you have in those chests to trade? Fur? Silver? Trinkets?”
As Vartan opened the lids of the heavy treasure chests, the sparkles of the treasures within lit up the roof of the building, and also lit up the trader’s eyes. Makya stood and emptied his pipe, sighing out a final smokey breath as he spoke. “Well, young hero, I believe we’ve ourselves a fair deal, and I’ll be sure to leave you plenty to help your cause. Come now; we have much more in the way of weapons and armour for you to explore."
Chapter 9: An Unlikely Duo
“Courage is a word used far too often for my liking. It can be hidden within a mask of fear, or within the blood of a warrior. Some would say that courage can be encompassed by a selfless action under a blanket of danger. I believe that to strike fear into the hearts of men takes courage.
Let them try to take back their great city. I will be here waiting, searching for the weapon to wipe them all from the face of this planet. I swear that I will find that weapon, even if Derian cannot lead me to it!”
(Queen Kassina of the Underworld)
The bitterly cold night sent icy shivers through Aidan’s body as he made his way to the forest’s edge. His weary eyes scanned for signs of life along the path ahead which led to the still-lowered gate. Greenhaven was barely lit by the numerous small fires that still burned within. The Forces of Darkness swarmed in all corners of the city as if they were ants devouring a fallen bug.
Aidan knew well the secret entrance which led to the many sections of Greenhaven, including the royal chambers. To make it to that entrance, he would first need to cross the gate safely.
This will be difficult. I need a distraction. Thank the gods for Trisa’s gifts, he thought. He fumbled through his bag to search for an enchanted fireball scroll when he heard the sound of leaves crunching under approaching feet nearby. With his hand on the hilt of his sword, he hid behind the trunk of a tree and stood ready for battle. Aidan called out in a low voice, “Who goes there?”
“It is only me—Tusdar.” The master thief stepped out into view, the moonlight illuminating his presence. “I don't mean you any harm, Aidan. I have actually come to help you."
Aidan clenched his fists. “Help?” he snapped. “Of all the people in Marithia, I don’t need your help, Tusdar. Why don’t you go somewhere warm and cosy to drink yourself silly and leave the fighting to me?”
Tusdar let out a small chuckle. “I’ll ignore your insults. Surely you can spot a good deal when you see one, can't you? I may have a soft spot for a good drink, but there is something you don’t realise. I can get close to the wealthy under the guise of a drunkard, and they tend to boast about their items of value. I never actually got drunk—I just let them think that I was. I know I have a bad history, but I want to change all that, which is why I followed you here after you dropped by the inn for a drink. Come now, I’ll watch your back for you."
Aidan’s eyes narrowed. “Hold on a moment,” he said. “Are you saying that you have been sneaking in and out of people’s houses without a trace? How much stuff have you managed to steal? I hope you chose your targets with a conscience. What drew you to a life of thievery? And what did you do with all of your treasures?”
Tusdar looked to the ground and shuffled his feet. “I... I never stole from anyone who was poor. One of my greatest achievements was stealing a gold goblet from Kassina’s tower. That was a bold move on my part, but I never ran into her or her skeleton warriors. As soon as the war erupted, everything I took I gave away to the people of Marithia. I hope that it helps them stay alive. Come on! You can use someone with my skills, and I am a changed man.”
Aidan contemplated the offer for a moment, hesitated, then smiled and offered his hand. Tusdar shook Aidan’s hand and returned his smile with one of his own.
“Everyone does deserve a second chance, Tusdar—even you. But you should know that if I ever catch you stealing anything of value in Greenhaven, I will make it common knowledge that you are never again to be trusted—not even to take out rubbish or to clean stables. Do you understand me?”
Tusdar nodded in agreement and readied his bow, approaching Aidan’s position. “Fair terms to agree to, Aidan. So, what is your plan exactly?”
“We will take a secret entrance into the royal chambers,” whispered Aidan. He pointed to the east turret. “To get there, we have to cross that lowered gate, and somehow distract any Forces of Darkness watching it. I will try to send a fireball to the other side of the city in an attempt to divert their attention, which should give us a few moments to run across the bridge to that gate."
“Of course, if it works. And if you miss?"
Aidan stared at him and sighed heavily. "I cannot afford to miss. If that happens and we are discovered, then we have no choice but to flee. That is, of course, if we aren't captured by Kassina."
Tusdar's face turned serious. "Do what you must. I’ll be right behind you, doesn't matter what happens."
Aidan pulled out the scroll with the fireball spell and whispered the inscription.
“Flamma attorqueatur.”
His hands glowed and warmed with power as he took aim at the rear of the city.
“Extraordinary! I should use enchanted scrolls more often,” he exclaimed, just as the fireballs exploded from his hands and soared into the sky.
As the fireballs screamed their way through the city, Aidan could clearly see what looked like dig sites riddling the streets, each one thriving with activity. Skeleton warriors hammered away at the earth, tirelessly, under Kassina’s command.
The first fireball landed at an inn’s storage room, and exploded with a roar that thundered throughout the surrounding lands. The second veered off into the deepest dig site. The explosion sent countless skeletons’ bones rocketing into the air. Tusdar and Aidan looked at each other in disbelief at their good luck and burst into laughter.
“That will definitely get their attention. Run—now!” ordered Aidan. He charged toward the lowered gate as fast as his legs could carry him, with Tusdar following closely in his shadow.
“Stay close to me, and don’t draw any weapons unless absolutely necessary,” growled Aidan. “They reflect the moonlight and will give
away our position.”
The men began their run over the bridge, their footsteps causing the bridge to creak. The city was busy with activity as the Forces of Darkness roared with fury over the explosions and disruptions. They looked to the sky in confusion, preparing for more fireballs to fall and taking cover wherever possible. The intruding pair caught sight of Kassina and Derian’s backs as they barked orders from their position in the parapets.
“All of you, get back out there and keep digging!” snarled Derian. “We must find Talonsphere at all costs!”
Kassina laughed with excitement as she sent her own fireballs randomly into the sky. She yelled into the night, “So, the great dragons have finally decided to stop by for a visit? How privileged am I? Show yourselves, you cowards! Allow me to give you a warm welcome to our city."
A trail of foggy breath trailed behind them as they gained on the end of the bridge; Aidan turned sharply to his right and almost tripped over himself as he fled towards the turret. He ground to a halt and Tusdar barely avoided toppling him from behind. Aidan's eyes narrowed and he placed his finger on his lips, pointing to the upper walls of the turret. There above them stood two skeleton archers, keeping watch over the path ahead of them, their eyes blazing red in the night. They aimed their readied bows aggressively, hunting for targets. One of them turned to the other and spoke in a dark language that sounded like guttural growls and shrieks. The sound of another explosion came from the burning inn, and the archers snapped around to look behind them.
“Quickly now,” said Aidan, running towards the turret. “Stay as close as possible to the walls!”
As they reached the wall, Aidan placed his hands on its cold golden surface.
“Tusdar, I need you to turn around while I-,” he began. His words were interrupted by an arrow tearing through his arm, and he howled in agony as the burning pain overwhelmed him. Steaming hot blood ran down his arm, and he fell to his knees.
Legends of Marithia: Book 1 - Prophecies Awakening: Uncut and Extended Second Edition Page 10
