Isle of Wysteria: Throne of Chains

by Aaron Lee Yeager

  He put his finger to his lips, then reached down and pulled out a small tray. “We had a fresh shipment of produce last night, so I thought I’d set aside a selection of the specialties we made before they ran out.”

  “Ohh, thank you, what is it?”

  He held out the tray to her. “Apple charlotte, peach melba, raspberry meringue pudding, and strawberry russe.”

  “Can I have two of each?”

  “Of course.”

  She curled her arm over and slid the scrumptious desserts onto her tray.

  “May I recommend reducing the portions? A lady should watch her figure, after all.”

  “You may not,” she retorted, licking some whipped cream off her finger.

  It didn’t bother her as much as it might have. He had, after all, called her a lady.

  The door flung open, and Akar came in with some of the other Wysterians, laughing and cheering. The people of the navy watched them oddly as they went over to the ale barrels and began pouring a round of mugs for everyone.

  Though many of the navy women showed obvious interest in them, the Wysterian men avoided them like the plague. Ellie was the only female outsider they really seemed comfortable around, because at fifteen, they really didn’t consider her an adult.

  That bugged her most of all.

  “I have a wonderful announcement,” Akar cheered, jumping up on a table. “I just finished talking with the Kabal negotiator, and they have acquiesced to our demands.”

  “They’re letting us go?” Ellie quipped.

  Some of the navy men chuckled darkly, but Akar played it off as if she had been joking. “No, they are going to extend the time-bubble past the east wall, enclosing the fields there.”

  “So what?”

  Akar jumped down and slapped her warmly on the shoulders. “So, we’ll be able to plow our own fields, plant our own crops.”

  “Just think of it,” Yarrow cheered, pumping his fist. “Pumpkins and squash.”

  “Fresh corn and zucchini!” Hollis added, his hair flopping about.”

  Ellie spun her finger around. “Yipee.”

  The men began passing out mugs to everyone. Akar grabbed the last one and held it up for all to see.

  “Brothers and sisters, a toast to our generous benefactor, Queen Sotol and the Kabal. Times are good, they have never been this good, and they’re only going to get better! Let us drink deeply of freedom!”

  The Wysterians cheered and drained their mugs down. The people of the navy refused to join in.

  Ellie looked over at Dwale. He was as concerned as she was.

  * * *

  Captain Evere gave a deep, manly laugh as Deutzia hefted up the freshly dyed black sails above the ship. The center dominated by a large red painted skull.

  “Aye, that pleases the eye, but add some fangs to it,” he ordered. “We want the sight of it to instill fear in our prey.”

  Margaret and Rachael dropped their heads, the paint brushes hanging limply in their hands.

  “He’s really getting into this, isn’t he?”

  “Get them barrels loaded, lads,” Captain Evere yelled, drawing his cutlass and resting it across his shoulder. “We need to make sail before the evening squalls.”

  The men and women rolled barrel after barrel up the ramp, years of experience in the navy making the operation smooth and rapid.

  Privet wheeled his chair closer, getting momentarily snagged on a piece of broken plank. “Orders, Captain?”

  Evere looked at him sympathetically. “None, lad, we’ve got it covered.”

  Evere turned away, but Privet caught his sleeve. “I can work.”

  Evere glanced down at the man’s paralyzed legs sadly. “I appreciate your spirit, but…”

  Privet gripped the material tightly. “I’m not useless,” he insisted.

  Evere opened his mouth, but when he saw the desperation in Privet’s eyes, he relented. “All right, lad.”

  The tension left Privet’s shoulders. “Thank you.”

  “Have you ever rigged a longboat for sailess-drift?”

  “Not even once.”

  “Well, then, I’ll have Odger teach you how. He’s over there.”

  Mournfully, Evere watched Privet as he slowly wheeled himself across the deck.

  Ryin ran up, a couple of bottles in his arms. “This is all I could find for the christening, Captain,” he explained, handing them over.

  Evere looked them over, the promise of alcohol dispelling the gloom he felt. “This is Lagrange Sixty,” he marveled. “Where did you get such a fine vintage?”

  “I found it in one of the Stonemaster’s foot lockers. My guess is, he took it for a bribe or something.”

  “And a fine bribe at that, for all the good it did.”

  “But it’s perfect, right? I can’t imagine a more fitting wine...”

  They both looked at the bottle thirstily. “…to smash against the prow of the ship….”

  Evere raised a greying eyebrow. “What’s in the other one?”

  “Just some water.”

  Evere leaned in close. “Switch the labels, we’ll drink the wine tonight once we’re underway.”

  Ryin grinned mischievously. “Aye, Captain.”

  Deutzia shimmered happily at the fresh new soil and water being dumped into the cargo hold with her.

  Albashire poked his head up as he finished locking a rudder into position. “All set here, Captain.”

  “Good lad.”

  As Talliun handed Margaret a fresh bucket of paint, Andolf came over and looked at the strange sight of five longboats floating in formation above the partially rebuilt quarterdeck. “May I ask what all this is about?”

  Evere grinned. “Old Pirate Guild trick. By avoiding the shipping lanes we make it unlikely to bump into anyone who’ll report our position, but…”

  “…but we leave ourselves open to wake trackers,” Mina finished as she climbed up the ladder, carrying a bag over her shoulder.

  Evere patted one of the longboats lovingly. “That’s where these come in. They’ll track our wake to here, then find it splits into six different directions.”

  Mina opened up the bag and began dumping some of the smelly contents into each boat.

  “What is that?” Andolf asked, covering his face.

  “Hair clippings, old laundry, washbin residue, rotting produce, bedpan slosh, perfume, all the things that will leave a strong scent track as well.”

  Talliun backed away, hiding her nose in her elbow. “You are the most disgusting people I know.”

  Ryin threw up his hands. “And now she’s calling us filthy foreigners again. I thought we were past that.”

  Rachael laughed, about twice as loud as was necessary, and smacked him playfully. “You’re so funny, Ryin.”

  “It wasn’t that funny,” Talliun grumbled. “This is disgusting, no matter who does it.”

  “Wait a minute, Albashire asked in offense. “Where did you get all of this stuff, Mina? Did you go through our rooms?”

  Mina stood up, her tail swishing innocently. “Just the once.”

  Margaret grabbed a lock of her hair and examined it. “I knew it! I knew someone cut off some of my hair. What did you do, sneak in during the night?”

  “It wouldn’t do much to fool anyone if only one of the wakes had the scent of the living on it, now would it?” Evere asked.

  “Yeah…but still…”

  Odger showed Privet which runes to tap, and they went in a circle, each longboat humming to life before slipping off in all directions, leaving a silver trail in the air behind them.

  “Happy hunting,” Evere bade, tapping the tip of his saber against his brow in salute.

  Albashire watched them fly away anxiously. “But, what if they send ships down all six wake paths
?”

  Evere winked. “Wouldn’t be honest pirating if we never had to take a gamble, now would it?”

  Albashire went pale.

  Dr. Griffin affixed a hand-made placard to the rebuilt binnacle that read “The Dreadnaught.”

  “She’s ready Captain.”

  Captain Evere stepped forward, fully in his element. “Let all fear, for today a new vessel takes to the sky. Be warned, those who sail with us, every bounty hunter, sailor, merchant, and military man in all of Aetria has but one thought on their beady little brains this day: Find the ship carrying Athel Forsythia.”

  The crew looked at one another warily.

  “But we aren’t going to let them, because this ship is the Dreadnaught, and since she was christened, the Dreadnaught has never once been caught!”

  Ryin took the bottle and smashed it against the prow to complete the ceremony. The men and women cheered. Rachael cheered for Ryin specifically, bouncing up and down and cheering twice as loud as anyone else, making him feel a little uncomfortable. Deutzia waved her branches and shined enthusiastically. Bunni Bubbles, who had managed to fashion a little hat and eye patch for herself, waved a kitchen knife around as if it were a cutlass. “Arrr!”

  Mina clapped her hands. “All right, hands stow the rest of the supplies, we leave in ten minutes!”

  “Aye, ma’am!”

  Everyone got to work, the threat that they faced giving them focus and purpose.

  Evere grabbed his wife and gave her a passionate kiss in front of everybody.

  “Oh my, Captain,” Mina said dreamily. “You haven’t kissed me like that in a while.”

  “Too long,” he winked.

  There was a rustling on the gangplank, and everyone got quiet as they saw Athel walking towards them, Ash sleeping in her arms, her handlers following behind.

  “Welcome back, lass,” he said approvingly.

  Athel nodded appreciatively and walked up to Privet, who was wiping the grease off his hands.

  She looked sheepish. More so because all eyes were turned to her.

  “All right, Privet,” she whispered. “Let’s get married.”

  Chapter Six

  (2,000 years ago)

  The forest glade was filled with dead bodies. Fallen hunters from a dozen different islands, were strewn about in a great circle. The ghastly remains of a great battle. Trees were shredded down to stumps, any rocks daring to poke up more than a few inches had been cloven in twain. The ground was scorched, the air was thick with death.

  All was mournfully still. No insects dared chirp, no bird dared peck. The only sound that could be heard was a man crying.

  At the center of the carnage, Dev’in knelt down, holding Mariss’ dead body in his arms. He wept so deeply, so completely, that even the sky darkened in response. His tears fell down on her lifeless cheeks, her body pierced with many poisoned arrows.

  The light of the sun eclipsed.

  Sobbing, he held her face to his chest, but no breath escaped her lips. Her swollen belly stirred with their unborn twins still inside her.

  The sky darkened further, and Dev’in threw back his head and screamed. His eyes trembled with grief. He screamed until his body was without breath, then inhaled as deeply as he could, and screamed again.

  The air darkened further around him, fading to twilight, then to night.

  But on he screamed, until his voice gave out and he could only rasp. But in his heart, he never stopped screaming.

  The moon eclipsed and faded away, the stars flickered out one by one, until he was in utter and complete darkness.

  And in that darkness, a voice called out to him.

  “Dev’in Overtin,” it said. The voice was dissonant, disconnected, but powerful, like the swell of the tide.

  Dev’in pulled his wife’s body closer to him and looked around, but there was nothing to see.

  “W-who are you?”

  “I…am Valpurgeiss,” the voice whispered from within and from without. “I have returned from the void to reclaim my power…and exact my revenge.”

  “Revenge?”

  “Yessssss,” it hissed. “You and your children are all that is left of my once proud people, and you will be the instrument of my wrath. In my name, you will kill billions.”

  A green mist descended down from the darkness above, forming a ring than sank into Dev’in’s head.

  Dev’in ground his teeth, he clenched his fists. He looked down at Mariss’ dead face, and his grief turned to rage. “Yes…they’ve hated me all the days of my life, so I will hate them back.”

  He spat on the ground. “They took everything from me. EVERYTHING! And for what? For the crime of being born? Well, if that is what they want, then that is what they will get. I will punish them for the crime of being born. I will take everything from them, like they did to me. I will show them what it feels like to weep over the ones you love. I will show them what it feels like to curse your own flesh, and rue the day you were ever conceived!”

  He wiped the tears off his face, and stood up, holding Mariss’ body in his arms. “I’ll do it. I’ll kill them. I’ll murder them all! Every last one! I’ll become a monster, if that’s what it takes. I’ll kill them by the millions…”

  He turned around. “…But you must promise me something in return.”

  “I must?” it responded.

  “If I serve you as your instrument of revenge, if I restore your ancient power…you will bring her back to me.”

  There was no answer.

  “Will you do it?!” Dev’in shouted to the darkness. “Will you bring Mariss back to life?”

  “Yes.”

  With infinite gentleness, he kissed his wife on the forehead. “Then I will serve.”

  “Excellent.”

  Dev’in closed his eyes, and the darkness of the void flowed into him.

  * * *

  (Present Day)

  The darkish green glow of Arianis Kultur played over Dev’in’s aged face. Already this body had grown old and frail. He held up his hand and flexed the fingers, bits of dried skin braking off in cakes.

  It was getting quicker. There was a time when placing his soul into a new body would last a century. Now, it had only been a year or two, and soon he would need a new one.

  He tilted his head back, looking above at the powerful void field that held back the cursed and boiling seawater above them like a great dome. Gargoyles sat atop greenish stone pillars, looking down judgmentally as they always did.

  “No, my love. I won’t need a new body this time. Soon, you and I will be reunited. Soon, I will hold you in my arms again.”

  He walked over to the altar where Mariss’ bones lay, a ring of flowers placed around her, her skeletal hands folded over her chest. He leaned over and kissed where her lips would have been, trying to remember to feel of them.

  He opened his eyes sadly. “Forgive me, my love. I can’t remember what you looked like. It’s been so long.”

  He gently ran his hand along the mummified remains of her scalp, a few wispy strands of hair resisting the urge to turn into dust. “I cannot recall your scent, nor the exact shade of your eyes. The beauty of your smile is lost to me; the sound of your voice is gone from my memory.”

  He balled his fist, causing more skin to flake away. “I’m sorry, I tried so hard to hold onto your memory, but it has been so long, everything has faded.”

  He covered his face, surprised that he could still find the heart to cry after so many millennia. “I feel like I have betrayed you by letting you slip from my heart.”

  He pounded his fist, barely noticing the snap of bone. He ground his yellow teeth, one of them breaking free and falling to the floor. It spun, then dissolved into vapor.

  “But I have not forgotten my promise to you.”

  He ran his fingert
ips along her cheekbone. “Wait for me, Mariss, just a few more weeks, and Valpurgeiss will live again.”

  He stood up and turned around, walking out of the chamber.

  “And so will you.”

  “Did you say hi to mom for me?” Blair asked snidely from where he leaned up against a pillar.

  “You’re late.”

  Blair held up his hands. “We don’t have the manpower we used to. Hauling a hundred tons of food into position takes time, even when I’m a pterra bear.”

  Blair joined him as they walked down a path of swirling archways, the lights above dancing across their faces darkly.

  Before them opened up a great lake of black tar, the surface bubbling in the shapes of screaming faces, the edges clawing at the sides of the pit like talons. It gave off a mewling sound, like breath escaping a corpse, like the moan of a dying animal.

  Dev’in knew that sound well. It was the sound his heart made when his wife died in his arms. And it had made that sound with every beat since that day, thousands of years ago.

  Encircling the lake was a ting of glassy black stone, each containing a frozen victim, one from each of the 78 lands of Aetria, with the Stonemasters represented twice. Once for their own magic, and again for the control of the seas.

  Blair traced his sharp fingers along the surface as he passed by he passed by the Wysterian, her frozen eyes pleading out through the stone.

  “It’s exciting, isn’t it, father?” he mused. “To finally see the false gods receive justice for their crimes.”

  He paused. “Do you think they’ll beg when the end comes? I hope they do. I’d like to hear that. I bet the sound will be exquisite.”

  “Where did you get the food?” Blair asked, motioning to the stacked crates and barrels sitting on a raised dais at the center of the lake.

  “A generous donation from the people of Senndai,” Blair clucked. “Apparently after speaking with me, they somehow came away with the distinct impression that their swampy island would be spared from the seas if they gave us every scrap of food they had.”

  Dev’in said nothing, only nodded. Silence was the closest thing to approval Blair could ever recall hearing.

  “You know, we’re starting to run out of people to blackmail,” Blair cautioned.