Severed Destinies

by David Kimberley

  Sephonis pulled his hand away sharply and turned his back on Balthus. "I am weary now. I must rest and allow my strength to return. I shall speak to you more tomorrow, Balthus."

  "As you wish, high mage." Balthus spun on his heels and walked swiftly to the door. He glanced back over his shoulder once before leaving and could only just make out Sephonis in the dimming light.

  As soon as the Invoker had closed the door, Sephonis let out a long, hissing breath that rattled in his throat. He glanced down at his hands and could see the dark lines forming beneath his skin. He closed his eyes and held his hands out before him, palms facing upward. Silence descended on the room.

  Your power weakens, Sephonis.

  "Yes, my lord, it does."

  Very well. This infusion must be your last for now. Do not forget, Sephonis, that you are to conduct the ritual at the temple soon.

  "I have not forgotten, my lord. The ritual shall go ahead as agreed."

  Draliak does not know of this yet?

  "He does not. He knows that I shall be residing at the temple soon but does not know why."

  Keep it that way, until the ritual is complete. Now, open your eyes and replenish your strength.

  The high mage prepared himself mentally for what was to come and opened his eyes.

  Balthus was stepping out into the street as he felt the shift in the air. It was a sensation that he was trying to get used to but it still made him nervous. He had never seen what transpired when Sephonis and the Dar'ota formed their strange link. On occasions, he had seen flashes of light, heard bizarre noises or even felt the ground move slightly beneath his feet. He knew of the power that the Dar'ota passed along to Sephonis but the way in which it was done was frightening to ponder upon. Without the Dar'ota's energy, Sephonis could not have hidden the Shada-Kavielian force in the smuggler's den for as long as he did.

  Every time he saw the mental link open between his master and the Shada-Kavielian ruler, he was certain that more strange traits appeared on Sephonis' face.

  The invoker shook his head clear of the troubling thoughts and headed towards the docks. He was not tired and was anxious to see the slaves being herded onto the ships.

  "Where are you taking them?" yelled Guard Commander Vohlkern, watching helplessly as a third group of Borailan men, woman and children were moved off down the nearest pier. One of the ominous dark vessels sat moored at the pier, shadowy forms moving about on its deck.

  Vohlkern turned his head so that his one good eye could scan the scene before him. He had been beaten after resisting the attackers and the bruising around his left eye had swelled, forcing the eye shut. He was certain that his right arm was broken also but his captors did not seem concerned with that.

  Borailans were bound together along the length of the docks, their cries of anguish echoing into the night air. Children sobbed and called for their parents but the chances of families being held together at this dark hour were minimal. Many of Vohlkern's men were dead; slaughtered by the invaders in the streets as they defended their homes.

  Vohlkern looked across at one of the attackers who was pacing along the docks, viewing all of the Borailans as he walked. They had come out of the night as if appearing from thin air and, by the time Vohlkern had made his way down from the temple, the attack was already underway. The dark ships arrived carrying more of the soldiers and this overwhelmed the defenders. Outnumbered, the Borailan guards could do nothing against the sudden attack.

  A woman shouted Vohlkern's name but he could not see who it was in the throng of people. His own family would be amongst them somewhere but he could not move to find them.

  As the soldier he had been watching passed him, Vohlkern quietly hoped for King Afaron to exact a swift and merciless retaliation against this invading force. His hopes were that the king would soon hear of Boraila's plight and gather the armies together to repel the invaders from their lands. From what he had seen, this was not a large force and the Rotian army would have the advantage in the amount of men they could muster. Still, the seizing of the port heralded a dark period for the Rotians and Vohlkern had no doubts of the struggle ahead being violent and costly.

  There was a sudden movement from the people surrounding him that forced Vohlkern to stumble and, as he regained his balance, he realised what was happening. His group of Borailans were beginning to be herded onto one of the piers and he watched as the men and women nearest the docks were dragged forward by some of the dark soldiers. His mind reeled as he desperately tried to piece together a way to escape but the bindings holding his hands together were then attached to people next to him. It was a futile struggle but he refused to believe that this was his only option; to be pushed onto an unfamiliar vessel and be shipped off to an unknown location.

  As he began to move towards the pier, he heard a child crying and looked to his right. A woman stood within arm's reach of him, her young daughter - no more than four or five years of age - clung to her tightly. Vohlkern examined the mother's face for a moment as he found something familiar there. Seeing his frowning expression, the woman tried to turn away but was pulled by the crowd and was forced even closer to him.

  "Excuse me," called Vohlkern above the cries from the crowd. "Is the little one hurt?"

  The woman stared at him for a moment, her tired eyes fearful. Then, seeing that he wore a Borailan guard uniform, she answered. "No, just as frightened as the rest of the people here. I see you were less fortunate."

  Vohlkern nodded. "Yes, these soldiers did not like me refusing to surrender."

  "You are lucky to be alive then. They killed any men who fought them when they came through Tamriel."

  "You are from Tamriel?" asked Vohlkern. "Do I know you?"

  The woman gave a false smile whilst her eyes showed no hint of humour. "It is possible. I am Elna Orgillian and this is my daughter, Cassi."

  Vohlkern could not hide his surprise. Before him stood the wife of Celestius Orgillian and his youngest daughter, both being dragged onto one of the invading ships just as Vohlkern was. "I believed that only Boraila was invaded, my lady. I can see now that this was not the case."

  Elna glanced away as the painful memory of seeing her home ravaged resurfaced. She bit back the tears that wanted to flow. "These soldiers entered Tamriel from the east and were merciless in their attack. They brought prisoners with them from Barentin which I learnt was also destroyed. We were taken, along with many others and were led through the forest. We realised that Boraila had been taken too as we entered the city."

  Vohlkern's head bowed at the news. "Then this is truly an invasion. If Barentin and Tamriel are gone, this new enemy commands the north side of the river." He was pushed forward onto the boards of the pier and reached out to stop Elna from being knocked to the ground by the mass of bodies.

  "You are a guard of Boraila?" Elna asked him.

  At this, he sighed deeply. "My name is Vohlkern, Guard Commander of Boraila."

  "Apologies for not recognising the rank, Guard Commander. I saw only the armour in this dim light." Elna glanced up at the moon above, it's silver glow half-covered by the slow-moving clouds.

  "Do not apologise, my lady. I was stripped of most of my uniform when I was captured. Many of my men died in the attack but I was left alive. I do not know why." Vohlkern dared to ask her a painful question. "Are the rest of the Orgillian family here too?"

  Elna shook her head. "No, my husband and my son went to…" Her voice faltered and she found that she could no longer hold back the tears. For a moment, as they were moving closer to the vessel, Elna wept with Cassi.

  Vohlkern could offer no comfort at such a time and he glanced to his left, looking out across the dark water to the next pier. The whole scene was so surreal to him and he started to wish that he had died with his men back in the city.

  "They went to Barentin," came Elna's voice suddenly.

  Vohlkern turned and saw that her face was once again an expressionless mask. "Barentin, my lady?"


  "Yes, Celestius and Gorric travelled there just before the attack. I heard nothing of them from the people of Barentin amongst the prisoners. I fear for the worst. As for my other daughter, Kithia, she vanished when the soldiers were attacking Tamriel. I do not know what happened to her either."

  "I'm sure that your family are safe," assured Vohlkern, knowing very well that they were more likely to have been killed in the battles.

  "Where are we being taken?"

  "Our destination is unknown to everyone here." Vohlkern leant as close to Elna as he could. "I shall try to keep you and your daughter from harm as best I can."

  Before Elna could reply, they found themselves being led up a wide gangplank onto the enemy ship. The prisoners were pushed tightly together when they stood on deck and within minutes the gangplank was being retracted and the anchor raised.

  As the dark vessel left the Borailan docks, it was joined by four others. Vohlkern watched as his home city began to fade into the distance and the realisation that they were being taken to a foreign land suddenly hit all of the prisoners once they saw that they were heading west, out into the unknown oceans. Fear gripped them and most wept openly, huddling close to any of the people nearest to them for warmth and security.

  Vohlkern looked across at Elna still clutching Cassi as tightly as she could. What an empty promise he had made to protect them. Nothing anybody could say would help them now. As the prisoners started to be moved away and led below, Vohlkern stood watching Boraila for as long as he could.

  Chapter 14

  Captain Sarin - commanding officer of the river fortress Turambar - leant back in his chair and studied the faces of the five youths stood before him. They had come to him with news that defied belief but behind their eyes he could see sadness and genuine distress. The fact that two of their number were children of Celestius Orgillian caused him great concern.

  He glanced behind them to where one of his corporals - Ilkar - stood. Ilkar had been on duty when they had arrived at the fortress and had escorted them to Sarin’s chambers. The corporal’s face was pale and troubled.

  Looking back at the five, he rose from his chair. “If what you say is true, then this force must have struck the kingdom from the north.”

  “Do you not believe us?” cried Gorric. “Look at us. We still carry the marks from the battle in Barentin. We have not had the opportunity to bathe since that time.”

  Sarin could see the state of the clothing they wore and the weariness that was apparent in each of them. He turned to Kithia. “Which way did these men go?”

  “They went west,” she sighed. “They took with them so many people from Tamriel and Barentin that the combined numbers would be easy to track.”

  “If they entered the forest, then chances are that they then headed north. I can’t believe that these were Morassians though. There is no justification for an attack.”

  “Sir, they do not sound like Morassians,” said Ilkar. “They could be Skardans perhaps who had found a new route into the kingdom.”

  “No, these men were not Skardans and they were not Morassians,” stated Gorric. “I know what those languages sound like and the words they spoke were something different.”

  “You mentioned one who had strange powers though,” recalled Sarin. “The Skardans are said to use dark magics.”

  “Yes, but please believe me when I say that these men are not from the neighbouring countries. We saw them in close combat.” Gorric’s expression darkened further. “Our father said that they might have come from the lands as yet unexplored but he too was adamant that they were not from Skarda.”

  Sarin could see the pain in the faces of both Gorric and Kithia when speaking of Celestius. They had been through so much that he was in awe of their strength. They must have felt as if their entire world had been taken from them and yet they still managed to get to Turambar.

  “Would they attack Boraila?” came Rynn’s tired voice.

  “A force of that size would be foolish to attempt an attack on a major city like Boraila,” replied Sarin.

  Rynn glanced at his four companions. “In that case, I would like to get back to my temple as soon as possible. They will be saddened by the dark news but I must tell them straight away.”

  Sarin smiled at the young acolyte. “I respect your dedication, but you and your friends will remain here for now. It would be safer. I will arrange for you to bathe and rest, then perhaps we can talk some more in the morning.”

  “I agree that we all must rest but tomorrow I would ask that you let me return to Boraila please,” said Rynn.

  Sarin turned away from them and stroked his moustache, as he so often did when considering options. “Tomorrow morning, I shall send a scouting party out towards Boraila. They will secure the area around the city to make sure that this invading force has not stayed in the vicinity. After they have left the fortress, I will allow you to travel to your temple but I shall send some of my soldiers with you to ensure your safety.”

  Rynn nodded in agreement. “Thank you.”

  “Sir, I would like to volunteer to take our young friend here to the temple.”

  Sarin looked across at Ilkar. “Very well. Select men to accompany you. For now though, please show our guests where they can rest tonight.”

  “Yes, sir.” Ilkar moved to open the door.

  Varayan had remained silent throughout their time with Sarin but now his mind was racing with thoughts of where his future lay. His first instinct was to flee the fortress and travel as far south as possible. However, for some reason unbeknownst to him, his mind told him to move along a different path. He had always acted on his instincts but now he was about to be rash and ignore them. When Rynn left for his temple, Varayan would accompany him. Boraila may prove an interesting place to visit and perhaps he could stay in the port for a while, until the kingdom was once again safe to travel in. Seeing Rynn, Kithia and Khir turning to head for the door, he quickly joined them.

  “Captain Sarin,” began Gorric, as the others moved to leave the room. “Please do not underestimate these invaders. We have seen what they are capable of and they are dangerous adversaries. I am not convinced that they have gone north. Where would they take that many prisoners? I am exhausted but tomorrow we must talk of rescuing these captives, including my mother and baby sister. For all we know, my father may be with them.”

  Sarin could see the potential in this young son of Celestius Orgillian. “Gorric, it is not a simple task and the soldiers here at Turambar could not hope to take on that many men. We would need help from King Afaron before we could mount a rescue.”

  Gorric stepped closer to Sarin. “I will not see my family suffer any more at the hands of these invaders,” he growled.

  “This I understand. We will send word to Vylandor. The king will be swift in his actions, my young lord. Once he learns of the destruction of Barentin and Tamriel, he will be eager to exact revenge against those who would dare attack the kingdom and it’s people. We will find your family, Gorric.”

  Gorric felt a hand on his shoulder and turned to see Khir, who was struggling to keep his eyes open. “Gorric, rest now. Captain Sarin knows what needs to be done and we can do no more at this time in this state.”

  “He’s right,” agreed Kithia. “We will be thinking more clearly in the morning.”

  Gorric sighed deeply. “I apologise for my words, captain.”

  “In these circumstances, it is understandable. I will see you in the morning.” Sarin watched as Ilkar led them from his chambers. When the door closed behind them, he fell back into his chair and there he sat, alone with the troubling thoughts, until the early hours of the morning.

  “I understand your need to get back to the temple, Rynn, but why so soon?” asked Kithia as she bit into another bread roll.

  “I feel that Forven’s death must be acknowledged by the clerics as soon as possible,” replied Rynn. “The temple also sits on the east hillside so it is approachable from Boraila or the opp
osite side. I’m sure that Ranesch would want guards stationed to protect the temple as quickly as possible.”

  The five sat at one of the tables in the mess hall of the fortress eating a hearty breakfast for which they were very grateful. They wore clean clothing and were free of the dirt that had built up on them during the travelling. Rynn had requested his robes to be washed so that he could return to the temple with them.

  Several soldiers who were just about to go on duty eyed them warily from an adjacent table. The rumours had already begun after men on the gate the previous night had seen the son and daughter of the Orgillian family entering Turambar.

  “The weather at least is holding out for our journey to the temple,” stated Varayan, peering out of the window at the bright sky.

  Rynn looked up at him in surprise. “Our journey?”

  Varayan grinned at the acolyte. “Well, I thought that I would go to Boraila for a while. It’s close and I have never seen the ocean so it seems like the perfect place to go. Besides, being around all of these soldiers makes me nervous.”

  “You mean it’s the perfect place to hide,” said Khir.

  “If you want to look at it like that,” shrugged Varayan. “Rynn is going back to his temple, you three are obviously staying here for the time being but I have to keep moving. It’s the way I have always survived.”

  “So this is where we go our separate ways,” sighed Kithia, giving Rynn a half-smile.

  “Actually, I’d like to thank you all for saving my life more than once,” said Rynn, returning the smile. “I would have suffered the same fate as Forven was it not for you and, if ever you are in Boraila or passing, please feel free to come to the temple. You will always be welcome.”

  “Even me?” smirked Varayan.

  “Yes, even you.”

  Khir looked across at Gorric who sat in silence, chewing slowly on his food. He had not said anything since they had awoken and Khir was growing concerned. “Gorric, will we wait here until the king’s men arrive?” he asked his friend. “Perhaps if we were to travel to the capital ourselves, then…”