“Has there been any news from Sapphiron?”
The commander shook his head. “Nothing lately,” he said as the pair walked along the battlements together. “I expect our Lord will be marching upon Floreska soon. So much for forming alliances. These humans, they’re not very bright, are they?”
“From what I’ve seen, they’re a bunch of savages. They’re nothing like their kin from Neorelle or Ruscarne.”
“Do you think the other empires in Sapphiron will rally against us?” The commander harboured no love of war, but if the humans shunned the hand of friendship with treacherous murder once again, Rowans would have no qualms in leading his army across the ocean and annihilating humanity from the face of the continent.
“I think they will,” said Crystal. “Engalia is the weakest empire in Sapphiron. They share a border with Vaneshia, who is the oldest and strongest empire. They won’t take kindly to our occupation of Engalia. The other two kingdoms, Denine and Cortania also share a border with Engalia. If war does break out, Brackish will have to fight on three battlefronts. Though, considering how weak the humans are, our forces should crush them easily.”
“Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that.”
“Considering mankind’s thirst for violence, I’m afraid war is unavoidable. They’re not interested in peace and friendship.”
Rowans was surprised by the disdain in Crystal’s tone. Before departing for her first mission to Sapphiron, Crystal had been an advocate for peace and spoke confidently about their potential alliance with Sapphiron. So much had changed. “If the day of war should arise, my forces will stand beside you and together, we will avenge Johnathon’s death and crush mankind,” he said and stepped away from her. “I’ll take my leave now. Be well, General Terrifos.”
“You too, Commander.” The day of war – Crystal had no intentions to wait for such a day. Her vengeance would come much sooner.
Rowans bowed and left to perform his duties.
As a wall of silver, the four sentinels stood dutifully at the entrance to the tunnel which lead to the artefact vault. Their bodies were safeguarded behind imposing tower shields which stood at shoulder height and each man held an imposing, long-bladed halberd.
“Afternoon, Edward,” said Crystal. “Please have your men stand aside so that I may access the vault.”
“Pardon, General Terrifos. You do not have authorization to pass. None but the Lord or Master may enter the vault. I ask you kindly to move on.” A stringent man, Edward ever abided by the regulations of his charge.
Denied entry by mere guards, Crystal would not abide it. “As General of the Provincial Army, I order you to stand aside.”
“You do not have authority here, General. Once again, I will kindly ask you to move along. If you continue to seek entry to the vault, I will have you reprimanded and escorted from Belrae.” Edward spoke with a stiff upper lip.
Herakas had proved ineffective against Kuungroth. Crystal, defeated so decisively by the gluttonous reaver, now desired to transcend as a warrior and to do so, she was going to need a more powerful weapon which had the ability to destroy ageless, god-like entities. Inside the vault were dozens of enchanted weapons, acquisitioned from across the globe, which would greatly aid in her ascension.
“Edward, you’ve seen me enter this vault many times. I will not have you turn me away simply because Brackish isn’t here.” Crystal’s shoulders stiffened as her stance became aggressive. “Stand down, or suffer the consequences.”
Rage swelled within her eyes. ‘She wouldn’t dare.’ Edward said to himself. The look upon her face made Edward doubt that statement was entirely true. If Crystal were to act against him, she would be breaking Surangi law. She would be stripped of her title of General, suffer corporal punishment and have great shame brought upon her family name. Was she truly prepared to sow such a harsh penalty?
Edward was a sentinel; his strength was nothing compared to that of an Arcane Knight. Death in the line of duty, he had sworn the oath and would hold true to the honour of his word.
“What’s all this then?” Leaning against his cane, the greying man hobbled towards them.
“Master Curator,” Edward sighed in relief. Crystal would have no choice but to submit now. “I was just informing General Terrifos that she doesn’t have permission to enter the vault.” He looked at Crystal. “She was just leaving. Weren’t you, General?”
“No, I wasn’t.”
A bead of sweat appeared on Edward’s brow. Crystal was going to go through with it, they were done for.
“Doesn’t have permission to enter the vault?” Waving a bony hand at Edward, Curator Pascal continued. “Nonsense. Nonsense, boy. Why, the Terrifos family have discovered and donated almost half of the artefacts in the vault, don’t you know?” He winked at Crystal. “Of course she’s allowed inside.”
“But, Master -”
“No buts!” He said, waving his cane. “Now, my boy, if you’ll excuse us, I’m going to escort our esteemed guest into the vault.”
“As you wish, Master.” Edward lowered his shield and stepped aside, his face solemn and humble.
Sealed with ancient Josai magic, the vault door was impenetrable.
“It’s been awhile since you’ve been inside, Crystal,” said the Curator. “Do you still remember the pass phrase?”
“I do,” nodded Crystal, and speaking in the language of the josai said, “Kto peaejw ayj beaaoa kto duuj ik migj.” Which translates to: The rising sun kisses the moon at dawn.
With the incantation spoken, the magical seals were released. The hefty door glowed a stellar blue and opened of its own volition.
“Amazing, isn’t it? The magic of the faeries!” No matter how many times he saw it, the blue glow of the door always brought a smile to his face. Pascal also enjoyed speaking in Josai and would often accentuate the vowels in the words so they elegantly rolled off his tongue.
“Gets me every time as well,” said Crystal.
Pascal gestured for her to enter first, Crystal obliged. Unbeknownst to Crystal, the Curator regarded her armour with suspicion and frowned, interpreting the evidence before him. Aged as he was, there was little that escaped his gaze and his wit, as sharp as ever, formed quick and accurate conclusions.
The sparkle of treasure was intoxicating. Crystal understood why dragons coveted gold, she would happily spend her days surrounded by splendour such as this.
“So, wearing the armour your father made for you?”
“Yeah,” said Crystal. He was observant, this old man.
“It’s magnificent,” smiled Pascal. “You know, I wish I had of taken the Blood Pilgrimage when I was your age,” he chuckled. “Who in their right mind would want to become immortal in a body like this.” He tugged on his long, grey beard.
“It’s not all bad, is it? At least you can continue your life’s work. How long have you been Curator now? Fourteen centuries?”
“Close to it.” It was a long count of years, though, to Pascal, it felt as though time had passed in the blink of an eye. Unburdened by the weariness of age, energy of youth remained in his limbs.
“Why did you wait so long to undergo the pilgrimage?”
“It was fear, I guess.” Pascal cast his eyes to his feet.
“Were you worried about burning alive?”
“No,” he said, raising his head. “I’m no warrior, Crystal. I’m a scholar. A tome fiend. I spent my youth with my nose in books and then I came here, to be Curator of the vault.”
“So, what were you afraid of?”
“Of becoming a warrior, of course. All those who survive the pilgrimage go on to be Arcane Knights, after all. I didn’t think Fe’anorr would grant me resurrection just to continue my role as Curator. Arcane Knights are great men, and women,” he said, raising his brow at Crystal. “Me, I’m rather simple. Why would Fe’anorr bless me with the gift of his blood?”
Smiling, Crystal looked fondly at the kind soul. “You’re the last person I’d ca
ll simple, Pascal, and obviously, Fe’anorr did judge you to be worthy. Strength is not the only attribute he looks for within us.”
“Your parents, now, they were strong and accomplished some extraordinary feats.”
“They did, didn’t they.” Fond memories returned to Crystal. Her heart swelled with pride. Great deeds are a Terrifos family trait. Her ancestors had helped forge Pyrelle into the magnificent kingdom it is today.
“Akella is renowned throughout Ruscarne and you Crystal,” he paused. “You possess great strength as well. The soldiers adore serving under your command, so I’ve heard. But tell me this, are you willing to ruin everything and let vengeance consume you?”
Taken aback by Pascal’s abruptness, Crystal was speechless, then shook her head with a smile. “Vengeance is my new companion, but, it will be a brief friendship. I can assure you of that.”
“Terrifos strength is legendary. Second only to the tales of your tempers. Having seen several generations of your family grow old, I can tell you with confidence, Crystal, that you must not let your anger consume you.”
“Are you telling me not to avenge Johnathon’s death?”
“Nothing of the sort,” his face grew soft. “But earlier, if Edward was going to deny your entry here, what were you planning to do?”
With a sigh, she could not hold his gaze and looked away.
“Your temper clouds your judgement, never forget that. You see, you could have returned later, at night, and entered the vault in secret. You didn’t think of that though, did you? An obstacle stood in your path and you were going to crush it. I saw your anger rising.”
Crystal was surprised to hear him speak of such things.
“Let anger give strength to your fist, just keep it out of your mind or you’ll find yourself in a situation that you can’t get out of. Regardless of being a Terrifos, and a General, Brackish would have had your head if you raised your blade against one of your own kin.”
Nodding, Crystal sighed.
“Now, let’s move on,” his voice became cheerful. “What did you need from the vault? Is there some treasure you seek to help you on your next journey?”
“When I was in Sapphiron, I was defeated by a gluttonous reaver. He completely overpowered me and yet, Akella was able to defeat him.” Crystal didn’t understand why her sister was so much stronger than she was, considering they possessed the same blood. “I was thinking that if I had a weapon like Sunderfall, I might have won that fight?”
“Sunderfall is a terribly powerful greatsword,” Pascal nodded. “But, I don’t think it was the key factor for Akella’s victory. Her strength increased dramatically after she returned from Ruscarne. She hasn’t spoken of it, but I suspect she undertook some special training to become stronger.”
“I don’t know. She might have?” said Crystal. “Akella hasn’t mentioned anything like that to me about Ruscarne. I don’t know why she’d keep something like that a secret, either?”
“Well, never mind. I’m sure your sister wouldn’t conceal anything from you.” Battling with creatures of legend, Crystal had gotten herself right in the deep end. “There’s plenty of enchanted weapons in here, so let’s see if we can find something to suit your fighting style.”
“Are you sure you’re alright with me taking one? I don’t want you getting into trouble on my account.”
“You know, these weapons are a marvel to behold. It’s good to keep them here, safe, well-looked after, so that their beauty and histories are preserved. Though, it’s also a tragedy that such magnificent blades are left forsaken, unable to shape destiny.” Pascal ran his fingers along the shimmering blade of a greatsword. “It makes this old man happy knowing that you, Crystal, will be using one of these weapons to battle the darkness which is consuming this world.”
Up and down the aisles, Crystal walked in awe. The astonishing craftsmanship of the enchanted weapons amazed her. It was as if they hadn’t been forged by men, but by gods of steel with unsurpassed imagination and artistry.
Whispering voices escaped the dull-grey warhammer. Hefty and menacing, the hammer was decorated with intricate engravings. Crystal could sense its weight without even picking it up. The bound leather hilt felt agreeable and from it, emanated a fierce yearning to be handled.
“An interesting choice, Crystal.” Pascal moved beside her. “Belos’ka, forged as a gift by the Nareen clan for Captain Lucas after he saved their princess who had become stranded on a deserted island.”
“The Nareen?”
“A fascinating people, to be sure. Highly skilled in the art of magics and enchantments. The clan lives in a remote cove along the coast of Ruscarne.”
“Belos’ka huh,” Crystal lifted the hammer. It felt right, as though it had been forged for her. Wondrous in design, the engravings were inspiring. “I think I’ve found a winner.”
“It suits you.” Pascal approved of Crystal’s choice. “A marvellous weapon for a talented warrior.”
Chapter 13
After having spent four days recovering within the safety of the cave, Ravage felt as though she had regained enough strength to face the world once more. The wounds upon her leg were not completely healed. Aches and nerve pain tormented her, yet Ravage was determined to remain idle no longer.
Walking, a once menial task, was now difficult and strenuous for Ravage. Thankfully, her staff served her well as a walking aid. She glanced solemnly at her leg, the scars will serve as an enduring reminder of her encounter with the devoid stalker. Ever patient, Patsy was content with the slow pace at which they travelled, assisting Ravage down steep embankments and across rocky paths.
Violent gusts of wind assaulted the pair as they crossed the grassy plains. Patsy’s cloak ruffled and streamed behind her as a cape, the constant sound of flapping material in her ear. The women attempted to talk to each other but the strong winds carried the words away, so they continued silently, each to their own thoughts. Devoid of clouds, there was no storm approaching on the horizon to accompany the windy onslaught. A wall of trees stretched out before them. The border of the Trillian jungle just a few miles away.
Once amongst the shelter of the trees, they sat on a flat stone and rested. Patsy removed the hood from her cloak and placing her hands upon her icy cheeks, she shivered.
“I know it’s still early,” said Ravage, wrapping her cloak tightly around herself. “But do you mind if we make camp here for the night?”
“Is your leg feeling alright?”
“My leg’s fine.” A lie, Ravage faked a smile. Struggling against the howling winds had taxed her terribly. “I’m pretty worn out, though. I’d prefer to head into the jungle tomorrow after a I’ve had some rest. This is a pretty good place to make camp, too.” Leafy ferns surrounded them. Tall trees with out-stretched branches choked in climbing vines protected them from the biting winds. They were alone. The animals of the highlands rarely ventured this close to the border of the jungle and knowing this, predators lingered within the denser, more sparsely populated undergrowth.
It had been a miserable day of unfavourable travelling weather. Patsy felt a weariness in her limbs. “Yeah, sounds good to me. I don’t feel like going any further today either,” she allowed herself a smile as she tilted her head to the side and cracked her neck. “The wind has been a bitch today.”
“It has been. We’ve actually been pretty lucky, as far as the weathers concerned. At least it didn’t rain on us.” Ravage laid on her back and watched the branches sway in the canopy. A falling flower from a vine caught her eye and she followed its twirling descent until it landed beside her. Lightening cracked in her mind’s eye. A mountainside laid to waste. No, the weather had not been kind to them. Memories of loss and sorrow arose, only briefly, for Ravage would not suffer them and sent them spiralling back into the abyss of woe. Hunger gnawed at her. “Get a fire going would you, Servant. And heat up my evening meal. I would like to dine soon, if you’d be so kind.”
“Oh, I’ll see to it at on
ce, My Lady. I am here, after all, to serve at your beck and call. Why, in no time at all you’ll be enjoying the warming pleasures of the campfire and then Your Ladyship may feast upon the salty goodness of dried meats.”
“Marvellous.”
Ample wood lay scattered. Broken branches cast down by the strong winds. Patsy piled them high, creating a fire which burned fiercely, tall flames warming the pairs weary limbs. Removing her boots, Ravage placed her naked feet close and wiggled her toes. The heat, a wondrous remedy for treating her aches.
“It sure is easy to take things for granted, isn’t it?” Ravage said as she stared at her legs.
Patsy was rummaging through her pack and looked up to see a despondent Ravage, her eyes thoughtful. “Things? As in being able to walk properly? Don’t worry about it, Ravage. Your legs will be fine after a few more days.”
“I feel very human at the moment.”
“Opposed to what? Being reptilian?”
“Don’t be a smart-ass. You know what I mean.” The heat from the fire became too intense for Ravage’s feet, so she withdrew them.
“Well, on the topic of taking things for granted, this is the last of the dried meat,” Patsy handed Ravage her meal.
“Is this it? I thought we had heaps of it? How’d we run out so fast?”
“That’s my fault. You were really pale and clammy while you were recovering in the cave, so I fed you a bit more than I should have to help keep your strength up.”
Ravage blushed.
“Finding food in the jungle is going to be easy. Though, there might be a day or two when we’re stuck eating beetles…”
“Beetles?” Ravage didn’t like the sound of that. “What do they taste like?”
“Well, they umm,” Patsy tried to think of the best way to say it. “It’s an acquired taste. You just have to close your eyes and pretend you’re eating the crunchy part of a chicken wing. A horrible, over-cooked chicken wing.”
“I like how whenever there’s something that tastes awful, people just say, oh my, it’s an acquired taste. They should just say it tastes like shit, but you get used to it.”
Misanthropy (Born of the Phoenix Book 2) Page 13
