Heroes of the Crystal Star (Valcoria Book 1)

by Jason James King

  Jalek looked at the body of the Medasylas, the man’s acolyte kneeling next to his headless corpse, face blank as he stared at his fallen master. Jalek’s gaze fell to the black metal belt lying on the floor next to the Medasylas’s abdomen. Had it fallen off? Jalek remembered seeing it on the corpse when Sitrell helped him out of that hole in the floor. His Jia ignited and for the first time Jalek realized that the cold void with the burning nucleus was gone. He hadn’t given it much thought while hanging on for his life, but now he could sense that it had departed. What did that mean?

  Although he knew he would regret it, Jalek tapped his Jia to give him the strength to stand, aches and fatigue no longer hindering him. He held onto his inner fire as he walked over to where the belt lay, knowing if he let go, his body would collapse. Jalek drew an apathetic glance from the Medasylas’ acolyte as he picked up the belt. When his fingers made contact with the smooth metal, an invisible something assaulted his mind, stabbing at it like a thief with a dagger, but Jalek felt his Jia shielding him. I must quickly dispose of this. He looked at the pit in front of the throne dais. Jalek turned and stepped up to the circular edge of the pit. He held out the belt and let go. It bounced off one side of the shaft before disappearing into the darkness forever.

  “You are as wise as you are devout, Jalek Larale,” Salache said as he approached him. “Such a thing belongs in the depths of Valcoria, if not in the infinite dark of the Void itself.”

  Jalek took a few steps away from the pit before he let his Jia extinguish. Salache caught him as he crumpled to the floor.

  “I’m afraid that I am going to have to become a great deal wiser if I am to wield this weapon that YaJiann has given me.”

  “You are of the Kalyra,” Salache said in an awed tone.

  “An Astadi.”

  Salache beamed. “You will be my second, Jalek. With the emperor dead and no heir apparent, the stewardship of the empire falls to me. I will need your strength in the days ahead.”

  Jalek shook his head. “I cannot.”

  “You would leave the service of the empire?” Salache asked.

  Jalek stared ahead, looking at nothing as he said, “I have a higher purpose now, Hakell, I serve a greater master.” He turned to look at Salache.

  Salache nodded, his face telling Jalek that he understood as Jalek knew he would, for the man was a more devout Aelic than he ever could be. “What will you do?”

  “I must read the Song of the Sages.”

  Yuiv sat in the saddle behind the foul-smelling, hairy man that called himself Sydias Dyon. He was grateful for this as the Amigus general did little actual fighting and was instead content to command his subordinates a distance from the battle. Yuiv watched as the sea of navy-clad infantry spilled into the streets, taking groups of Aukasian soldiers by surprise and forcing them to fall back if they didn’t overcome them altogether.

  “We’as winnin?” Yuiv asked.

  The general shook his mane. “Not yet. These are scouting parties. The real fight will come when we move closer to the center of the city.”

  “Oh,” he said, his enthusiasm deflating.

  Yuiv couldn’t help but think of how he had fought off three Aukasian soldiers alone, his show of superhuman strength frightening away two others. He replayed the moment in his mind when his Jia had given him a burst of energy. It felt similar to when he used his Jia to heal, but instead of the fire flowing out of his body into someone else, it had instead circulated within him. Although he hated causing harm to another, the sensation of raw power felt incredible, and part of him longed to taste it again.

  But what did it mean? Yuiv was afraid Jalek had already told him the answer to that question. According to the Aelic man, only the Al’Kalyra could wield more than one of YaJiann’s gifted powers. He shook his head at the thought. How could someone like him be the Arch Sage? He was a thief and he was only a boy. Still, he could find no other explanation for what had happened in that desperate moment, and it frightened him.

  Sitrell looked up, holding Ashra against his chest as five Aukasian soldiers came running into the throne room. They halted at the sight of dozens of their fellows lying in pieces on the floor and drew their weapons.

  “Peace,” Sitrell heard General Salache say as he faced the soldiers.

  Their leader, a man likely as young as Sitrell himself, tore his gaze away from the carnage and saluted. “General Salache, we bring urgent news.”

  “Report,” the General said.

  “An enemy army has arrived from the south. Our scouts report their numbers to be comparable to ours.”

  “I understand. Thank you, Captain.” Salache made to turn back to addressing Jalek when the young captain called out again.

  “General, they are inside the city engaging our men as we speak!”

  All eyes in the room fastened on the nervous young captain.

  “How?” Salache asked.

  “No one knows, sir. We sent several teams to make the south gate secure, but someone still managed to open it.”

  Ashra pulled away from Sitrell. “General Salache,” she called in a regal tone. “Is it your intention to continue to prosecute Lorta’s war of conquest, or will you command your armies to stand down and avoid more blood being shed on both sides?”

  Salache shook his head, “I am afraid it is not so simple, Princess. Many brave soldiers died for this campaign. Our people would see the loss as a waste were no victory to come of it. Their widows and children would know shame all their lives.”

  Ashra answered in that same business-like voice. “But there was a victory won this day, a victory made possible mostly by warriors of Aukae.” Ashra motioned to the dozens of dead Aukasian soldiers lying in their gore. “We know that this war began because of the influence of a madman possessing dark powers. I don’t see it as a defeat, for you have succeeded in ridding the world of a very real monster.”

  “And what of Lorta?” Salache asked. “He was as much responsible for starting this war as was the Medasylas.”

  “A victim influenced by the Medasylas’ dark powers,” Ashra answered matter-of-factly.

  Salache stared at her before turning to the nervous, young, Aukasian captain. “Send runners to every commander of our regiments and tell them to stand down.”

  “General?”

  “Relay with my orders the explanation that the Medasylas turned on the emperor. It was revealed that as a child of the Vaekra, he used his dark powers to manipulate His Highness for his own evil purposes.”

  The young soldier rigidly saluted before turning and jogging out of the chamber. He gripped Ashra by her shoulders. “You make quite the imposing queen. Kaiden would be proud.”

  Ashra kissed his hand before shooting a glance at Ekale’s lifeless corpse. “He was the one that taught me how to be a queen, and I will love him forever for it.”

  Sitrell gently turned Ashra, pulling her close. She stared into his eyes.

  As one, they leaned together, and kissed.

  Yuiv watched from far too close as Dyon’s men tore into the ranks of the Aukasian army. As he understood it, there was fighting like this going on in most of the city now, the Amigus forces having run into the bulk of the enemy army.

  “Layeldar, shore-up our right flank!” Dyon shouted. “Raesten, reinforce the third division!”

  Yuiv’s naiveté had become apparent as the battle stretched on. In his ignorance, he had expected it to be over as soon as he opened the south gate, and to be fed and in his new bed by sunrise. That prospect was looking less likely as it took hours just to take a single street.

  I hope Sulia is okay. He thought that the house of Trauel had been down one of the streets they had won back from the enemy, but he wasn’t certain. His thoughts turned to the older woman and he wondered just what would happen when she found out Sitrell was dead. Would she blame Yuiv and throw him back out onto the streets? He didn’t think so, but the worry lingered.

  Sitrell. Yuiv wiped a tear from his right
eye. I’m sorry. He prayed, hoping that the Creator, or YaJiann, would relay the message to his fallen friend. If not, then he would ask Tyra to do so the next time he saw her. Odd what incredible things he was starting to take for granted.

  Yuiv’s attention was arrested by the protracted blasting of a horn. A moment later, another sounded, and then another.

  “What’as that?” he asked Dyon.

  “Quiet,” the general snapped as he listened intently.

  A terrific din of weapons clanging to the ground erupted from further in the city, the sound spreading like the rippling of a pebble being thrown into a pond. As the clatter approached, the army of Aukasian soldiers drew back, dropping their weapons, and raising hands in surrender, all of their olive toned faces looking bewildered. He even saw a few soldiers restrained by their fellows as they refused to stop fighting and even one or two fall on their own swords rather than surrender.

  Yuiv looked around in shock at what he was seeing. “Did we win?”

  “Yes.” The general waved his sword above his head and hollered, “The white eagle!”

  “The white eagle!” his men shouted. The cheer spread like wild fire and soon it sounded to Yuiv just as loud as the din he experienced during Talanor in Lisidra.

  The battle was over.

  It was dawn before Dyon’s forces entered the palace. Yuiv trailed behind the grizzled Amigus general as he strode into the massive lobby. Yuiv yawned, sure that the gesture would be condemned by his etiquette trainer as inappropriate, but he didn’t care. He was too tired to worry about proper manners at the moment. In fact, he decided in a flash of rebelliousness, he was going to lie down in the first bed that he saw, no matter whom it belonged to and without taking off so much as his boots. Well, maybe his boots as that would be uncomfortable.

  Yuiv had been reveling in feather pillow and down comforter fantasies when he saw Sitrell standing at the far end of the chamber next to the large throne room doors. His loose fitting, white shirt was grey with blood and sweat and he was conversing with a small group of the Amigus Ruling Council. Joy and excitement erupted inside Yuiv, making him forget his fatigue as he broke into a run.

  “Sitrell!” Yuiv shouted, drawing the attention of dozens of soldiers milling through the colonnade. “Sitrell!” he shouted again. Sitrell turned to look a heartbeat before Yuiv slammed into him and wrapped his arms around him. “You’as alive!”

  “Yes,” Sitrell laughed as he embraced him back. “And I’m glad you are as well. Ashra told me she lost you just before being captured.”

  Yuiv’s eyes fell to the floor as he pulled out of the hug. “She’as okay?”

  Sitrell smiled broadly. “She’s fine, except for being a little distraught. She’s resting in her bedchamber right now.”

  Yuiv felt the cathartic unburdening of relief as his worry and guilt evaporated. “An Sulia?”

  Sitrell nodded, “I sent someone to check in on her as soon as the Aukasian surrender was sounded. Aside from fright for you―I’m starting to think she loves you more than me―she’s just fine.” Yuiv watched Sitrell’s face change as he took in his bruised, bloody, and tattered appearance. “What have you been doing?”

  “Saving Salatia Taeo,” Dyon announced as he stepped up to the two. “This boy opened the south gate and let my army into the city.”

  Sitrell looked at him, eyes telling of surprised confusion. After a moment to digest the revelation, his smile widened. “Well done, Yuiv.” Sitrell embraced him.

  As Yuiv hugged him back, he saw Tyra over Sitrell’s shoulder. She was standing next to a marble column, invisible to all eyes save his. She was smiling, eyes shimmering crystal blue.

  Yuiv smiled back.

  The horror of what Yaokken had done broke the crown’s spell over him, and with blood and rage he tore it from the skin of his head. Then he set to work destroying his sky castle, sending it plummeting out of the heavens like some great meteor.

  Chapter 31

  Rewards

  Three loud knocks on Leadren’s bedchamber door brought his pleasures to an abrupt halt. Whoever that is will hang for this! He growled as he rolled out of bed and retrieved a robe from a nearby chair, throwing it over his shoulders and quickly tying the front. As he reached the door, he glanced back at the young brunette lying in his bed. She had drawn the bedspread up to her neck to cover herself.

  He threw open the door and shouted, “I said I was not to be disturbed for any―”

  A man dressed in the navy blue uniform of the Amigus army stood before him with an Aukasian general standing on his right and an ashen faced porter on his left.

  “W-what is this?” Leadren stammered.

  The Amigus soldier arched an eyebrow as he took in Leadren’s half clad state. “I am Ailos Danarious, Commander of the twenty-sixth regiment.”

  Leadren turned to the Aukasian general. “A prisoner?” he asked. The general chuckled as he shared a glance with Danarious.

  “By order of acting Alderman Yudenna Kala, I hereby dismiss you, Hacik Leadren, from the post of governor of Lisidra, and take control of this city until your replacement can be appointed.”

  “Guards!” Leadren called.

  “They will not come,” the Aukasian general said in his clipped accent. “I have assumed command of the Aukasian forces residing in this city and have orders to lead them back to Aukasia by way of the Sentinel gate.”

  “Furthermore,” Danarious cut in before Leadren had time to say anything, “I am placing you under arrest for the crime of high treason.”

  Icy panic stabbed Leadren’s chest and he glanced over his shoulder to his consort for the evening. She had drawn the bedcovers completely over her head. He turned back, putting on his best mask of innocence and fear. “The emperor threatened my family. Everything I have done was done by compulsion!”

  The Aukasian general scoffed.

  “Please believe me, Commander!” he wailed. “I had no choice but to turn over the city to the enemy.”

  “Stay your lying tongue.” Danarious bellowed. “We have eyewitness accounts of your treachery.”

  How is that possible? Leadren’s thoughts raced and he seized on a plan to play on the common Amigus enmity toward the empire. “Who?” He dropped his innocent façade. “General Salache? Since when did the testimony of our enemies carry any weight? I know the law, Commander. Only accusations of Amigus citizens are valid in the prosecution of a capital offense.”

  Danarious smiled. “We have the testimonies of two of our people, statements that corroborate General Hakell Salache’s implication of you as a traitor.”

  “You bluff to manipulate a confession out of me.” He laughed. “You have no such testimony.”

  Leadren started as Danarious reached into his coat pocket and produced a rolled document. “Here,” the commander said tossing the scroll to Leadren. “Read it for yourself.”

  Leadren unrolled the document and read:

  Be it known to the Amigus Ruling Council that Hacik Leadren, Governor of the royal city of Lisidra admitted to me in person that he had conspired with Estar Alnenya Lorta to unlawfully open the Sentinel Gate so as to allow his army access to the city. Furthermore, Hacik Leadren confessed that he had defected to the nation of Aukasia and was promised a kingship for the aid he supplied the Emperor. As the Creator lives, what I say is true.

  Sitrell Trauel,

  Commander of the fifty-seventh regiment

  Leadren’s eyes widened as he continued reading;

  I’as saw’d it too. Is all true.

  Yuiv Trauel

  Tightness spread through Leadren’s chest and his stomach soured as he looked up from the paper. How? I killed them, I killed them both!

  Danarious took the scroll out of his hands. “You now have a choice, sir.”

  “Choice?” Was all Leadren could manage, bile rising in his throat.

  “Yes.” Danarious nodded. “You may choose either the firing squad or the gallows.”

  “But I was
going to be king,” he half whispered to himself as he dropped to his knees and retched.

  “Disgusting,” Danarious said, moving his boot away from the puddle of vomit. “Take him!,” he snapped and two Amigus soldiers appeared in the doorway. Leadren’s knees were too weak to support him, forcing the two soldiers to drag him out of his room and down the hall as a handful of servants stopped to look on.

  “King…” he whispered again. “I was going to be king.” And then he retched again—all over himself.

  Lt. General Aun watched as an innumerable sea of Aukasian soldiers spread out before the city stretching as far as he could see into the southern horizon. They had arrived just two days ago, at which time they had sent an envoy into the city to offer Aun the chance to surrender. As the enemy assembled a dozen siege engines, Aun began to wish that he had.

  “Creator, send that you were right, Sydias,” Aun whispered aloud to himself.

  Aun turned away from the sight and descended the steps of the watchtower, two of his subordinates trailing him, all quiet and solemn with terror. As he neared the bottom of the steps, a young man came bursting into the stairwell, his face glistening with sweat. Upon seeing Aun, the newly minted soldier sloppily saluted and then bent forward, panting as he worked to catch his breath. He was one of hundreds of Sayel Nen farm boys recruited just days ago in order to bolster their inadequate numbers.

  “What is it, soldier?” Aun asked in a tone that was harsher than it probably needed to be, the weight of what he just saw was making him cross.

  “Commander Estek bid me fetch you,” the boy paused to suck air. “He said to tell you that a train approaches from the north.”

  Aun shared a confused glance with his two subordinates. “A supply car?”

  The boy shook his head. “I don’t know, but Commander Estek insisted that you come straight away.”

  Aun nodded, pushed past the young soldier, and broke into a jog as he left the watchtower. Half an hour later, Aun stood at the train gate in the north wall of the city. The black, iron locomotive screeched to a halt as it passed into the city amid a cloud of steam. After it came to a complete stop, the train’s first passenger car opened and a man stepped out.