by Stephen Wolf
Outraged, Kannilon drew his forces together and commanded them to eliminate the mages creating and controlling the monster. Yet wherever they struck, they found no one. The apparent strength of the spell suggested that the mages would have to be very close to the creature, but it was as if the colossus propelled itself. At a loss, the king commanded his forces to attack the construct directly. Arrows passed through the colossus as its massive arms and hands crashed down and decimated the Kallisorian troops below.
Kannilon panicked and screamed his fury. “Foul betrayers of nature! Face us man to man. Enough of this treachery!”
“Treachery?” a voice rumbled from the glowing colossus. “You surely speak of yourself, invading our camps, poisoning our troops, slaying our lieutenants, magically fortifying your arrows, utilizing your healers as a shield, to name your acts within only the past few hours. Who is it that excels in treachery, I ask?”
Kannilon looked all around for the source of the voice, but the mages were somehow projecting their voices from every part of the enormous being. Confused, Kannilon waved his hand to direct his archers once more, targeting the center of the colossus as it continued to rampage.
The monster shouted, its voice shaking the air. “You have killed our liege, you poor excuse for a monarch. There are rules for war, but now I will rewrite one to counteract your own revisions.”
With that, lightning sizzled and lashed out in all directions. Everyone in the blast radius collapsed to the ground, dead or unconscious. The thundercrack that followed deafened all those beyond the immediate blast range. The king clutched his ears in agony, and he could hear nothing but a painful inner ringing.
But with the release of such a concentrated blast of energy, the defenses of the giant were significantly reduced, if only for a moment. Volleys of arrows already in flight found their mark, striking deep within the light and bringing down the beast. The light flickered and then raveled inward, until it vanished with a pop.
The Kallisorian king staggered forward, enraged. So many of his men and women had died in this altercation. Even with the losses on the other side, including the death of the Hathren king, he vowed the Hathrens would pay for this day. He made his way to the center of the colossus, certain now that the cloak concealing the team of mages would at last be gone.
And so it was, but to his shock, he saw only one mage, pierced with several arrows, breathing raggedly, his body wrapped tightly around a strange crimson figurine.
“Now it ends,” the king spat, drawing a short sword, eyeing the figurine closely. “Was it this device that summoned your creation, mage?”
“You’ll never be able to harness it,” Delminor gasped, tightening his grip as if to keep the statue away from the king. “This power is mine alone.”
His ears still damaged, Kannilon couldn’t hear what the mage said. He pressed the tip of his sword against the mage’s throat. “I suppose your trinket did affect this battle, but your king is dead, and now you follow. My sword is the power here.”
The mage opened his mouth to speak, but the king pressed his blade through the man’s throat. At once, the red figurine in the mage’s grasp started to glow. The radiance brightened until the king had to shield his eyes, and then it exploded with a bang, breaking into a handful of pieces and impaling the king in the process.
The few remaining combatants rushed over to the explosion. The king gasped in pain as one healer turned him over. “The Red Jade,” he breathed, pulling a chunk of it from his chest, its color fading to a pale blue. “Claim it. For…Kallisor.”
There was one last scramble to gather the shards of the Red Jade figurine. Survivors from both sides of the battle claimed a few pieces, then fled before the other side could retaliate.
So ended the horrific war, with both kings dead and pieces of the Red Jade scattered to both kingdoms, where mages from each side would seek the hidden powers within.
The boy looked up. “Gran-mama?”
“Yes, dear?”
“Do you think it’s real? The Red Jade?”
“I do. And I pray no one messes with its power again. But that isn’t the point of this story, and you know it.” Meriad smiled.
“I know,” he said. “The good king and the evil king wouldn’t work together, and so a lot of people died in the end. No matter how strong one side is, the other side can always be stronger. So there really isn’t any point to war.”
Meriad nodded and sighed. “If only more people saw it that way, indeed.”
“But Gran-mama?” he asked hesitantly. “If both kings died, what happened to the kingdoms then? I mean, we still live in Hathreneir, and Kallisor still has a king, so where did they come from?”
“With all the times I have told you this story, you’ve never asked me that before,” she noted proudly. “So I think I was right. You’re ready to find out what happened after that war.”
“There’s more?” he asked in awe, his whole face lighting up with excitement.
“Oh yes, indeed, there is. It will take some time to tell it to you properly, so let me finish with one little bit for tonight, and then we will continue tomorrow. Deal?”
“Oh, only one little bit?”
She ruffled his hair and laughed. “Yes, little one. You asked how we still have kingdoms if the kings died, and the answer is easy enough. The kings had sons, like you. Those sons became the kings, but they were very young, so they had help at first. Times were tough, and there was still tension between the two kingdoms. However, their resources were severely depleted because of the wars, and it took years for everyone to rebuild their homes. So, things were quiet for years to come.
“But,” she added mysteriously as she stepped toward the door to leave, “not everyone forgot about the Red Jade.”
Chapter 1
Gabrion’s Promotion
Gabrion breathed in the warm spring air and stretched deeply into the dawn. A bright smile lit his face, for this was a day that would change his life. He rose from his bed, and as he tended to his morning routine, he sang merrily, making up an impromptu song as he went.
It must be perfect, for my lady waits.
I have to hurry, for I can’t be late.
A golden sun shines in the sky,
With a deep-set blue to match her eyes.
Do I wear the green or go with white?
Everything has to be just right.
Ready for the picnic, my heart does sing,
So don’t you forget to bring the ring!
He chuckled to himself and gathered his belongings, then bounced from his home and nearly skipped the way to hers, tipping his head to other villagers and whistling his tune as he went.
Savvron was a quiet Kallisorian town, far from the woes of the big cities. It was founded centuries ago, according to town legend, when a traveler who was walking across the countryside saw a beautiful patch of orange flowers, set himself down among them, and decided that it would be a perfect place to live. The brilliantly colored flowers still covered the hillock, and tall trees surrounded them in a warm embrace. It was a meadow where many lovestruck couples went to simply drink in the glorious view. It was there that Gabrion would officially seek Mira’s hand.
He laughed aloud at the sight he conjured in his mind of the two of them celebrating their union among their friends, enjoying years of fulfillment, complete with a small pack of children. It was an image they had constructed together as kids and one that he could finally put forth in earnest.
He arrived at her door, rapping gently. It didn’t take long for her to respond. She wore a soft yellow dress with white flowers scattered across it. It made her dark hair and azure eyes glow in contrast.
“You do look lovely today, Mira,” he said with a bow.
“Well thank you, Gabe.” She laughed. “You seem lively this morning.”
He nodded. “We have a
nice day ahead of us. But first…” He opened one side of the basket and pulled out a deep-yellow ribbon. “I think this would match your hair quite well today.”
Mira chuckled. “You always seem to know what I’m going to wear.” She took the ribbon and tied a tidy bow in her hair. “You’re either magical, or you have a spy watching me.”
He winked merrily and closed the basket before she could see the other ribbons he had waiting there. A simple secret, but it amused them both. He drew his arm around her, and they started on the trek to the meadow.
It was a quiet journey at first, and then Gabrion released a soft sigh. “You know, Mira, I was thinking of getting you something.”
She looked at him and raised an eyebrow. “Not another wooden sword so we can practice together, I hope.”
“No,” he answered with a laugh. “Even better. I thought about getting you a dog.”
She stopped short and gave him a quizzical look. “Gabe, you know I’m terrified of dogs.”
He smiled and tugged her along. “I know. But it would be a tree dog. You’d be fine with that.”
“A what?”
“A tree dog.” He paused for just a moment and then said, “You know, the kind of dog that barks and leaves!”
It took her a second, but then she laughed while simultaneously slapping his arm. “You’re an idiot,” she accused. A strange look came over her face, and her eyes cast down to the ground as she pursed her lips for a moment before quietly adding, “But…you do make me laugh.”
“It is only fair,” he retorted lightly, “because you do make me smile.”
They walked past a few houses and eventually toward the path that would lead them to the meadow. It would be at least an hour’s journey, more with a leisurely stroll, but this day was not about schedules.
“Gabrion?”
“Hmm?”
“What do you think is going to happen?” she asked tentatively.
He didn’t need her to clarify the question. The whole village was abuzz with stories of Hathren troops gathering along the nearby borders. It was only a few months ago that Andron had arrived in town, seeking volunteers. He was one of the king’s soldiers, and his goal was to train as many villagers as possible to fight and protect themselves. Gabrion was one of those volunteers, and he had shown great promise in a short amount of time. He was already strong from working his father’s farm, but now he had developed basic skill and understanding. Andron had told him recently that he would be promoted and given a proper rank, so that if the need should arise, he could help lead the fight if war with Hathreneir actually did break out. The promotion would put him on the king’s own payroll, and it was this that had prompted him to finally propose to Mira.
But he hadn’t wanted to discuss this with Mira just yet. At least, not until they were settled among the flowers in the meadow.
He tossed some ideas around, wondering how best to avoid the subject until the right moment. “I think the king is doing his best, and it was a good idea to send soldiers to the towns to train us to defend ourselves. I’m sure if there was a greater danger, there would be actual troops here, not just little guys like us.”
“Little guys?” she echoed with a slight laugh. “If you’re little, I would hate to see the big guys.”
He blushed congenially. “Still, there isn’t anything to worry about, Mira. It’s a beautiful day. We’re together.”
“Gabe—” she started but then stopped and sighed. “But what if something’s out there and no one’s really ready for it? What if—”
He stopped and turned her toward him. “I’m telling you it will be fine.” He did his best to sound calm and confident and supportive. “Why is this on your mind today?”
“It’s…on everyone’s mind,” she hedged. “Come on. Let’s keep going.”
Her behavior struck him as strange, but he drew in a deep breath and walked with her, wondering what was really bothering her. He debated pursuing the topic, to find out why it was troubling her so much on such a pretty day, but then she bent down to sniff some flowers, calling him to join her, and he was lost in the moment.
They continued along the path, and soon the meadow was in sight. Gabrion had grown silent with anticipation of his proposal. He reenacted the plan in his head again. He would pull out the sandwiches and open a small cask of wine. She would be surprised by the wine, but he would insist that it was a perfect day for wine in the meadow, and she would agree. Then he would tell her of his promotion, and they would discuss their future, after which he would set himself, in deference, on one knee, taking her hand and—
“Gabrion!” screamed a voice from far behind them. The sound rang out in terror, and he and Mira stopped cold. His name echoed down the path again and again.
Mira looked up at him, biting her lower lip, her eyes full of sudden tears.
He pulled her close and held her, but she just stood still, trembling. “It’s nothing,” he soothed, wishing with all his heart that he was right. “Be calm.”
Footsteps pounded erratically in the dirt, and moments later a young teen came into view. He was badly out of breath and stained with something that Gabrion certainly did not want to see this day.
Blood.
He released Mira and turned to the youth. “Kaz, what is it?” he asked urgently.
The boy fell to his knees, dropping a sword to the ground. “This—” he gasped, shoving the sword forward. “We…we need you.” He drew a deep breath of air to steady himself, then looked up into Gabrion’s eyes. “The Hathrens. They’re here. Killing. I barely got away to find you.”
“No!” Mira gasped, eyes wide with stark terror. “Not like this.”
But Gabrion could see that Kaz was telling the truth. He honed his ears and thought he could make out the sound of clashing steel in the distance. He knelt down and helped the boy to his feet. “Kaz, where are you hurt?”
“I’m not,” he said, following Gabrion’s gaze to the blood on his shirt. “No, that’s old man Arinot’s. He…was their first victim. He sent me to rally the others. I did. Now I found you.” He bent down and lifted the sword. “You left this at your place. I thought you’d need it.”
Gabrion knew his duty. He needed to protect the town. Luckily, they were far enough away that Mira could find a place to hide until the trouble was taken care of. He turned to her now, a soldier—poorly trained but a soldier nonetheless. “Mira, I have to go. You have to hide.”
Her eyes were fixed on the distant path, and she didn’t seem to hear him. “I—I can’t believe it’s really happening.” Her cheek twitched gently, almost looking like a bewildered smirk, as if she were thinking of something unrelated to the attack.
“Mira,” he repeated, but she wouldn’t acknowledge him. He figured she was seeing a vision of the town being torn apart. He didn’t have time to shake her from her fear, so he did the only thing he could do. “Kaz, you have to get Mira to safety. Can you do that?”
The young teen nodded his head sharply and took Mira’s hands, then bodily dragged her toward the meadow. Gabrion watched them for just a moment more, and as he turned, ready to sprint back to the village, he saw the picnic basket, set on the road, otherwise forgotten. He fished around inside it until he retrieved the engagement ring. He stuffed it deep into a pocket. “I’ll take care of this mess, Mira,” he said to himself softly, “and then we’ll do this day again…properly.”
With that, he ran back to the village to deal with the invaders in earnest, clutching his sword in his hand. His feet pounded along the path as he went, and he wondered how many warriors had come to ravage the town. The warriors he felt he could handle, even without years of experience behind him. Gabrion was more concerned about the other fighters, because his training hadn’t yet prepared him for battling magic.
The sounds of yelling grew louder, and the path fell away behind him. He tig
htened his grip on his sword and braced himself for impact as he rushed headlong for his first quarry, a swordsman who looked barely old enough to cook for himself, let alone participate in a battle. The youth was intent on chasing the village baker across the road, and so Gabrion pushed hard and shouldered the attacker to the ground. It was a quick scrabble as the boy bounced back onto his feet, sword swinging wildly. He turned to Gabrion and slashed wickedly.
Gabrion parried the attack easily and thrust back offensively. The boy dodged to the side and spun, bringing the sword low, hoping to cut into Gabrion’s legs, but he saw the move coming and hopped over the blade. Gabrion swung again, and sparks flew from the weapons as they collided. The boy cried out in frustration, but instead of continuing the move, which would have required Gabrion to pivot around, Gabrion abruptly punched out with his left arm, striking the boy across the chin and simply knocking him out cold.
“Take over!” he commanded the baker, who was still trembling but nodded. Gabrion sprinted off and found his next opponent.
As he approached, Gabrion assessed that the woman was some sort of thief or rogue, because she was very agile and fought with two daggers, a handful of pouches bouncing around her waist. She was scoring hits against Kaz’s older brother, Bryn, who had volunteered with Gabrion for training. He was holding his own, but she was better.
Gabrion ran in to help his friend, but the rogue easily fended off both sets of attacks. Her daggers flashed in and out faster than Gabrion could follow, and she nicked him in several places within seconds. It was a tribute to his determination that he didn’t drop his own sword from the shock of it. Instead, he firmed up his fighting stance and tried to communicate some sort of plan with Bryn, but he had no success.
The rogue didn’t even seem winded as she pirouetted around, slashing both high and low, increasing her hit count. Each cut was superficial, but the combination was like hundreds of gnats nipping and biting away, until each fighter was utterly distracted. Gabrion didn’t know when she knocked him down, nor did he remember her stabbing him in the side, but when her eyes focused on him, he knew he was done for.
