“Not exactly.” Etai shook his head. “Each piece mimics one of the seven gifts of the Kalyra, but because they are powered by Aedar’s infinite energy, they have no cost.”
“I don’t understand,” Gevan said.
“Sages have to physically exert themselves to use their powers,” Trauel said.
How does he know that?
“Yes,” Etai confirmed. “Because Kalyra channel their energy, their Jia, through their Dyn or physical bodies, they are limited in their abilities by how much their body can endure.” His expression turned grave. “It is not so with one who bears a piece of the Jihan Truik. They are not drawing on their own Jia but on Aedar’s essence, which is channeled through the talisman in a way that grants the host an immunity from the normal physical toll of wielding such power.”
Gevan’s blood chilled. “You mean that my father’s strength is inexhaustible?”
Etai nodded. “That’s part of what makes the Jihan Truik so dangerous.”
Gevan bit his lower lip. “So if my father is being controlled…”
Etai shook his head. “It’s not control as you think of it. Your father still has his free will, his protection. He can resist.”
Gevan felt a stab of hurt at that. The idea that his father was being controlled had comforted him. However, if what Etai said was true and he still had the ability to choose his actions, then that meant his betrayal had been real.
“Aedar is only manipulating your father by using his hate of Amigus to leverage his emotions.” Etai looked as though he could sense the hurt Gevan was feeling. “But the more he uses the belt’s power, the weaker his free will becomes, and the less he is able to resist Aedar’s will.”
“If my father is under an alien influence, then why does he still want the Aldor so badly?” When Etai didn’t answer, he continued, “At first I thought his interest in the ruins beneath Salatia Taeo to be a part of his desire for vengeance, to prove a point to those who exiled him. After what you’ve said, though, I am not so sure it is his will that drives him.”
That look of pain again flashed across Etai’s face, and he sat on a fallen log as if a great weight had driven him down, “A thousand years ago, a man, a scientist not unlike your father, came into possession of one of the pieces of the Jihan Truik. Like your father, he was a good man at first, a man of peace. His world was at war, his country besieged by several nations, his people frightened and starting to despair.” Etai looked east, “So he used the power of the Jihan Truik to take control of his government and build a weapon that would deliver his people from destruction.”
“The Aldor Sokatasa,” Gevan said.
Etai stared at his hands, his eyes far away as though he were seeing the events he was describing. “The man’s name was Yaokken, and like your father, the Jihan Truik turned him into an ugly and hateful shadow of his true self. Soon, defending his country wasn’t good enough. It was revenge he wanted, revenge against all who had waged war on his homeland. When his enemies were decimated, he decided that the only way to truly keep his people safe was by conquering the world. So he became the aggressor, using the Aldor’s immense Niazeride cannon to spread unparalleled destruction and bring the world to its knees.”
“What stopped him?” Trauel whispered, sensing the odd sadness in Etai voice.
“Love,” Etai said.
Gevan stared at Etai. That had not at all been what he had expected the man to say, but before he could ask, Etai spoke.
“The Al’Kalyra, or Arch Sage as you know it, conspired with Yaokken’s wife. She wanted to save her husband and so sacrificed herself to bring him to his senses.”
“I thnk I’ve heard this story, before, when I was little,” Trauel said.
“Her death at her husband’s hands horrified him and made him realize what he had become. Mad with grief and horror at what he had done and what he had lost, Yaokken was able to break free of Aedar’s influence and brought down the Aldor as means of suicide.”
“Causing the Great Destruction,” Trauel said.
“That’s what my father is after, isn’t it?” Gevan met Etai’s eyes. “Another piece of the Jihan Truik, the one buried with the Aldor beneath Salatia Taeo.”
“Yes,” Etai replied. “Possessing one will make him extremely hard to defeat, but two…”
“Then let’s go after him now!” Trauel half growled. “We can stop him before he gets to the capital.”
Etai scoffed, “And how exactly is it that we are supposed to overcome both an entire army and someone with the strength of dozens of men?”
“You could lead the charge. I have seen what a Sage can do in a fight. The Aukasian soldiers won’t be able to stand against you. You can fight the Medasylas and I can support you with Niazeride energy fire.”
Gevan shot Trauel a warning glare. He wasn’t about to give up the only weapon he had left.
Etai stood, brushing slivers of wood from his backside. “I am not of the Kalyra.”
Gevan had not expected that either.
Trauel looked as confused as Gevan felt. “But I saw you stop that giant Viska with your bare hands, stop and hold it!”
“Balance, Sitrell,” Etai said, sounding annoyed. “I was only able to do that because Aedar had directly intervened. Only those of the Dynal plane can freely tap their Jia to affect the world around them.”
What was Etai saying? Gevan wondered. That he wasn’t mortal? He seemed like any other man save for his eyes and accent.
“Then how do we stop the Medasylas?” Trauel snapped.
“Our main focus is to find Ashra and get her to safety,” Etai said in a tone of labored patience. “I would imagine that to be more important to you than taking on an entire army and the powers of a fallen god?”
Trauel glared at Etai, but then sighed and lowered his eyes.
“How do I sever the hold the Vaelidar has on my father?” Gevan blurted.
Etai stared at him again with those haunted eyes. “I honestly don’t know. What happened to Yaokken was unique as I understand it, but if anyone has a chance at saving him, it would be his son.”
“Then take me with you.”
Etai smiled and Gevan guessed that he had intended to recruit him from the start, perhaps even before they entered the Eletar, else why bring three horses?
“What now?” Trauel asked.
“We’ll take a few hours to rest, then leave the road and ride northwest through the forest to avoid encountering the army.”
“That will add days to our journey.” Trauel’s tone rose again in anger. “The Medasylas will reach the capital before we do.”
“They will gain maybe a day on us, not enough time to make much of a difference. Besides, it will be safer for us to ride out of the forest after Lorta’s army moves into the city.”
“What about getting into Salatia Taeo?” Gevan asked.
“That’s the easy part.” Etai smiled. “Finding Ashra before she reveals to your father how and where to enter the Aldor, that will be a little trickier.”
“I will confront my father,” Gevan said. “That should give you the distraction that you need to get the princess out.”
Etai’s smile turned into a grin. “See, Sitrell,” he said, slapping the Amigus Commander heartily on the back. “I told you things would work out.”
Trauel’s only response was an irritated grunt.
Gevan turned to face the road and stared down the dark tunnel of trees in the direction his father had gone.
I’m coming, Father, and I will free you of the belt, one way or the other.
So it was that, on a high day, a celebration was made by Yaokken for his people, all of whom now lived within his enormous sky castle. It was a celebration of Imperator Yaokken’s soon-to-be victory over all of Valcoria.
Chapter 26
Harbinger
In spite of Kaiden ordering the cooks to prepare her favorite dessert, chocolate custard topped with cream and cherries, Ashra didn’t feel much like eating.
She sat in the enormous palace dining hall at a long table built to easily accommodate a hundred guests, Kaiden at her right at the head of the table and Sitrell’s orphan friend, Yuiv, opposite her.
The boy looked extraordinarily uncomfortable as he sat eating quietly. Ashra wasn’t able to decide if that was because he was unaccustomed to the stiff navy gentlemen’s suit he wore or because the Alderman of Amigus was interviewing him about what had happened in Lisidra. Perhaps it was both reasons combined. Either way, she felt pity for him.
Ashra mechanically spooned some of the dessert into her mouth. The smooth custard, complimented by the cream, was often enough to lighten her mood when depressed, but not this night. Even her earlier trip to West Street to play with the children hadn’t entirely cured her melancholy. It was frustrating, not just because the cloud of sorrows persistently lingered, but because she wasn’t entirely sure why she felt so forlorn. Perhaps it was because she had been thinking so much of her father lately. Not to mourn him, not intentionally, but to discover where in her memories he had planted the Legacy Secret.
Ashra had spent entire days poring over journals: hers, her father’s and even her mother’s, although that had only been because of desperation. She had obsessively analyzed stories her father had told her, songs he had sung to her and limericks he had recited to make her smile, none of which even hinted at any coded secret.
She scratched underneath her silver crown where it dug into her scalp, a very un-princess-like thing to do, a scowl from Kaiden told her. Although she was allowed to wear the crown at all times, something Kaiden had suggested when she was just thirteen in order to remind ambitious members of the court that she would one day be queen, she only did so on formal occasions. She would have to get used to its obnoxious weight and tight-fitting band when she ascended the throne; tradition strictly demanded that the crown be worn whenever its ruling monarch were in public.
“You will carry the weight of the consequences of your choices for the remainder of your days.” Kaiden lectured Yuiv, not unkindly. “I think that will be punishment enough, worse in many ways than prison or penance.”
Ashra stirred her lackluster custard. Her emotions had teetered between worry for Sitrell and her country and depression over her father and the Legacy Secret. Although Kaiden tried to reassure her, Ashra knew, as he did, that no messenger with tidings of victory would be coming. The time had passed days ago, meaning that something had certainly gone wrong.
“I think, in time,” Kaiden continued, “you can find some way to make amends, but your guilt will never entirely be―” He cut off.
Ashra looked up to find Yuiv staring at the east wall as though he were looking through it. He rose like a zombie from his chair and walked in that direction.
“Son?” Kaiden asked. “Are you well?”
Kaiden gasped in the same moment that Ashra saw it, Yuiv’s eyes were glowing a bright crystal blue, the way hers did when she used her gift. A heartbeat later, Ashra felt warmth blossom inside her, a dancing reflection of blue light from her silver goblet telling her that her eyes were also glowing.
Is Yuiv like me? Could he also heal the… Ashra became aware of a coldness emanating from the east and she understood what it was that distracted Yuiv. She stood and faced the same direction.
“Ashra?” Kaiden called, his tone both surprised and worried.
“He’as here,” Yuiv half whispered and she understood what the boy meant.
Something terrible drew close, a cold thick nothingness that felt as if it could swallow the whole world. As she explored the sensation, Ashra discovered a hot nucleus at the center of the approaching void. It burned with a heat similar to what she felt in her chest, but it was not tranquil like her inner fire. No, it was a firestorm of rage and hate burning with an intensity that frightened her. Ashra recoiled from the contact, her fire fading as she looked down at Kaiden, his face a mask of shock.
“Ashra, your eyes…” he said in a voice weak with incredulity.
“Something’s wrong, Kaiden,” she blurted out. “Something terrible is coming.”
Jalek’s eyes flew open as he felt his Jia ignite. The weakness and nauseating hunger from his self-inflicted fast vanished and he sat up, fully alert. Feeling as though he were ready for battle, he stood from his bed of straw, walked to the east wall, and looked up at the small barred window set near the ceiling.
What was happening? And then, he felt it, the same cold darkness he had felt while lurking outside Hirath but infinitely magnified.
“By the light of YaJiann, I say unto thee be gone Aedar, thou fallen lord of death and darkness.” Jalek whispered the expulsion prayer as he touched his forehead, lips, and heart. It didn’t work. He repeated the prayer and gesture, but still the cold emptiness and the burning hate did not depart.
Was he unworthy? Perhaps YaJiann wouldn’t hear his prayer because of his betrayal.
You are a warrior of the Crystal Star, Jalek son of Astad, the familiar voice whispered to his mind. You must battle the darkness with the light I have gifted to you, the light that shines within.
Jalek glanced at the iron bars of his cell door and knew that this prison could not hold him. He rose, the flame of YaJiann burning so brightly within him that he was surprised it didn’t light the darkness around him. He gripped the cell bars and prepared to bend them.
“What are you doing, Jalek?”
Jalek froze. That voice had come from behind him. He let go of the bars and turned, utterly astonished to find his older brother before him, face looking hard and disapproving.
“Azanoth?” Jalek gasped.
“Escaping?” Azanoth asked.
“I have to fight…”
“Does your dishonor know no end?” Azanoth spat. “You deserve to be locked up in this dauchen kennel!”
Jalek’s Jia extinguished, and an overpowering sense of physical weakness and hunger crashed down on him. He fell to his knees. “I am sorry, brother.”
“You have betrayed your emperor, shed the blood of your countrymen, and disgraced our house!”
“Please, brother. I’m sorry.” Jalek fell forward curling into a ball, waiting for his beating to begin.
Lorta’s eyes devoured the sight before him: Salatia Taeo, the jewel of the civilized world, his prize. Although night, the innumerable lights of the thousands of buildings lit the city, making it a beacon in the center of the dark Aldora valley. By that light, he could see the famed seamless, glossy, black wall, that encircled the city’s perimeter. And rising from the center of the city, reaching up above the moonlit clouds, was the black spire of Aradell. It was breathtaking. It was majestic. It was his.
Lorta watched as his vanguard of ten thousand cavalry stormed toward Salatia Taeo’s east gate. Ringed by Imperial Guards, he rode behind the advance force hanging back so as to avoid drawing the fire of the Amigus wall guard, although they didn’t seem to be much of a threat as their numbers were spread thin. The Medasylas had been right about that too. It looked like the Amigus leadership had emptied Salatia Taeo of all its armies to assemble the force that ambushed them in Hirath. He had been worried about this moment. Bereft of his technological advantage, they would not be able to take the city as fast or as dramatically as he had hoped. Still, the Medasylas said he had a plan to expedite their entrance into the city and avoid a prolonged siege, and thus far his plans had proven effective.
Lorta cast a glance over his shoulder toward the veil of trees that was Jala Tacia. Tens of thousands of his infantry poured out of the forest and were forming ranks. It was all coming together, maybe not in exactly the way he had wished, but the city would soon be his and the banners of the golden lion would soon fly over Salatia Taeo. Lorta started as shots rang out, followed by trumpets sounding. The battle had begun.
Yuiv hugged himself partly for warmth and partly to still his trembling hands. Although officially spring, the night air still carried a chill―a faint echo of the dying winter. More than that, the cold emptiness
approaching from the east was closer now. It was a horrible feeling, novel save for his experience encountering the hideous specter-corpses of the Lisidran dead. He remembered now that in addition to his feelings of horror, that sense of hungry nothingness had also been present though much less potent.
He put a hand in front of his eyes, relieved to find no reflective blue glow. Like before, his Jia had awoken unbidden, revealing his Kalyran nature to both Alderman Ekale and the Princess. Ashra’s eyes were glowing too. Though he hadn’t actually seen it, Yuiv had heard Alderman Ekale’s shocked exclamation. She is also Kalyran. But what kind? He hoped the Princess owned one of the more powerful of the Kalyran ancestors, like Jasatar with the power to command the elements, or Kalden with the power to move objects mentally. Or better yet, he prayed that Ashra was the Al’Kalyra―the Arch Sage. That would be particularly helpful right now.
Yuiv stood on one of the palace’s large balconies, one high enough to overlook the plains beyond Salatia Taeo’s circular wall. The marble outcropping was huge, large enough to accommodate Alderman Ekale, Ashra, Ashra’s scary bodyguard, one of Ekale’s generals, and probably up to twenty people when occasion warranted it. No one spoke, all watching in solemn silence as a dark mass of enemy soldiers moved toward the east gate while a seemingly endless stream poured out of the forest.
The quiet night was broken as a chorus of musket shots rang out, accompanying the chain of bright flashes that momentarily lit the east wall. Next came bells, lots of them, ringing first from the east of the city, spreading like a sonic wave.
“No Niazeride energy fire?” Alderman Ekale asked aloud to no one in particular.
“Perhaps they are testing our defenses,” the general whose name Yuiv couldn’t remember said. “Waiting for their infantry to exit the forest before attacking in earnest.”
“Maybe,” Ekale murmured.
Yuiv glanced sideways to Ashra and found her quietly crying. Would an Arch Sage be so frightened? He hoped to YaJiann himself that she was the Al’Kalyra, else they had no hope.
Heroes of the Crystal Star (Valcoria Book 1) Page 31
