“From there I will hand myself over to you without resistance. I have arranged for my second in command to complete the exchange, myself for Evaline. If you are in accord with this agreement, I will see you at noon. Not a moment before, or after. If you fail to show up precisely at noon all terms are forfeit.”
As Brom finished the letter, Evaline was completely dumbstruck.
“The halfwit has decided to play the hero. How romantic that he would sacrifice himself on your behalf isn’t it, Princess Evaline?”
Chapter 22
Leldric Veus stood with his arms clasped behind his back, staring into his Well of Ancestors. Kable, his brutish Roan, crouched in the shadows awaiting orders. Leldric ignored the barbarian as he so often did. In his mind, Kable was like a quill, or a hammer. What thought did one have for such a tool? You only paid heed to it once it was needed.
The Power pulsed within the Well in rhythm with the beat of his heart. This was not a coincidence. He was tied body and soul to the Well, just like all the Zedd’Kaul who had escaped here to this world were tied to the Wells of their ancestors.
As he let the force of the Well wash over him, Leldric contemplated the last days of his home planet. Those had been desperate times, times where even the most optimistic souls had thought the Zedd‘Kaul race was doomed. That became true for many of the clans, as only the most powerful had endured while the world itself had rejected them.
An unknown and unstoppable force had drained away the energy of the Wells, a power the people of this world called Caster magic. Not only had the source of the Zedd’Kaul’s power been drained, but the rest of the world withered away, as well. The oceans had dried up in a matter of weeks, while the plant life and wildlife had died off not long thereafter. The worst of it had been the perpetual darkness that had ensued. An unnatural violet cloud cover had blocked out the sun for good those last few months, shrouding the world’s surviving inhabitants in a kind of blood-hued night. The Blood Sky, it had been called.
That’s when the creatures had come. They had been people once; of that Leldric was certain. What they became after was something so insidious, that no one had seen it coming.
But how could we have seen it coming? The clans had always been at odds, warring and vying for power over one another. We were blinded by our own ambitions, ignoring all else, because we were so sure we were the ultimate power in existence.
Thaumaturge was what he named himself. The mysterious newcomer had been a necromancer, and it was he who found a way to dry out the Wells and let the world die. Once the planet had begun to decompose, the vast population did the same. Many had turned against each other, and entire city’s succumbed to looting and anarchy. Others died of starvation or any number of other terrible tragedies once the Blood Sky came.
They didn’t stay dead, though. Billions were resurrected by Thaumaturge, and with the undead he forged himself an army even the mighty Zedd’Kaul could not hope to eradicate.
As one clan after another fell to the undead hordes, the five strongest forged an alliance in hopes of stopping Thaumaturge once and for all. Clans Veus, Roghuenoirr, Araghsar, Lanalis and Baidenagh had been at odds with each other for centuries, so it was with a grudging heart that these five rivals met in the city of Roghuenoirr for a final stand. It did not take long for the five clans to realize that their cohesively planned offensive had been a futile endeavor. The soldiers of the armies they had amassed became allies of the necromancer the moment they were slain, and the Wells themselves didn’t have enough energy for them to sustain any attacks using the Power of the Ancestors. All they could do was wait to die and become pawns of a villain they could not defeat.
An army beyond comprehension descended on Roghuenoirr and all hope seeped out of the congregation of clans. Araghsar, Lanalis, and Baidenagh were in agreement that the remaining power within the Wells should be used towards one last massive strike, destroying as much of the advancing army of dead as was possible. Clans Veus and Roghuenoirr were not so sure, however.
Part of the alliance pact they had all signed stated that all five clans had to be in unanimity to make a decision regarding the war effort. After a long and heated deliberation, it was decided that they would convene in one day’s time to decide what they would ultimately use the remaining energy for.
Leldric had an affinity for the stars and had spent most of his life gazing into the night’s sky wondering about other worlds and peoples that might exist beyond his own. He had scientists create giant looking glasses for him so he could look farther into the cosmos than anyone could have imagined. His desire to look even beyond what the looking glasses were capable of was what caused him to experiment using the Wells’ strength. Leldric had it in his head that he could open portals to other planets, and he spent decades trying and failing to accomplish this feat.
He never let his constant missteps frustrate him; instead, they fueled him and made him more steadfast. Each failed attempt brought him closer and closer to his goal. On three separate occasions, a window of sorts had opened for the briefest of times, giving him glimpses of worlds he knew to be within his own solar system because of his exhausting studies through his looking glasses.
The conundrum he faced was that he couldn’t sustain the portal he had opened outside of that marginal span of time. Try as he might, Leldric never was able to get past the energy restrictions that the Wells presented him. He knew that he would need the assistance of a different clan and would have to use the power of multiple Wells to succeed. The Powers of the Ancestors were jealously guarded, and the rifts that existed between the clans were prejudices he felt could never be disregarded. That was until that last day of the siege when he was finally afforded the opportunity he had waited decades for.
There was a daunting obstacle he needed to overcome first. The Ancients are the unquestioned leaders of every Zedd’Kaul clan. A council of three or four of the wisest elders compiles the hierarchy of leadership for the Kaul’Celum, a tradition that went back many millennia. Since he was only a few centuries old and was considered young and brazen by the Veus’ Ancients, it took a drastic move by Leldric to draw attention to himself at the final meeting.
Long hours had passed, and they were nowhere near a consensus vote and infighting began to occur. Old hatreds were coming to a head, and it looked as though the minute energies left within the Wells would be used to fight against each other instead of Thaumaturge. As the Ancients stood arguing at the top of their lungs and the alliance began to crumble, Leldric took the opportunity to open one of his windows right then and there. Perhaps because of his distress and frustrations, the portal remained open larger and longer than it ever had. Blissfully, it showed another world to the assemblage before it finally winked out.
From there it was easy convincing the Ancients of all the clans to lend Leldric their combined strength so they could perhaps find a new world to start over in. One of his looking glasses was constructed in short order, and the search began. With the borrowed energy, Leldric discovered he was able to do a magnitude of groundbreaking new things with the Power of the Ancestors. Among them, he was able to see boundlessly passed where the lenses limits ended. He was also able to conceive of a way to delve the planets he was finding for signs of life, comparable living conditions to his world and even whether or not the power of the Wells existed there.
Time was growing incredibly short, however. Thaumaturge’s army was literally on the doorstep of Roghuenoirr, and they invaded while Leldric was in the midst of his findings.
The ground trembled as the vast brigade of walking corpses finally burst into the city. Everyone but Leldric moved off in a fruitless effort to fight. Having spent hours seeking a suitable sanctuary, Leldric was on the verge of losing faith that somewhere could be found. He had been on the verge of giving up when he finally discovered a distant patch of sky he hadn‘t yet viewed.
Whatever it was that drew his eye to that world turned out to be the miracle he had sought. It was a pl
anet that not only held the same kind of atmosphere as his own, but also contained a momentous bounty of the Power of the Ancestors.
The original plan had been to open a portal to the new world and send the clans through in an orderly fashion. Since everyone was spread out in the defense of Roghuenoirr, that became impossible. With his borrowed power coursing through him, he could pinpoint where all the clan members were individually, but he didn’t have enough time to spirit them away by plucking each person out one by one. If he did that, nearly everyone would be dead and all this would be for naught.
Leldric thought furiously of a way to transport everyone through, but could come up with nothing as the panic and anxiety he was feeling was making him dull. Tense minutes dragged by as he listened to the sounds of violence and destruction that were drawing nearer. Finally, in an act of complete and utter desperation, he knew what he had to do.
Only a small fraction of the enemy force had entered the city. It would be a manageable foe once the Zedd’Kaul were able to tap into their new home’s nearly endless supply of Well energy. So without a second thought, Leldric drew forth every last drop of the Power of the Ancestors that remained on his dying world and he transported the entire city of Roghuenoirr, including every Zedd’Kaul and undead fighter that were within its mighty walls, into the unknown.
They had escaped certain doom at the hands of Thaumaturge, but in his haste to flee he and the surviving Zedd’Kaul had emerged into a new world, bringing their war with them.
The Roan became the collateral damage of a conflict that they never could have predicted. Roghuenoirr sprung into existence within sight of a thriving desert oasis. It had been the largest city by far on the Zedd’Kaul home world, but it was dwarfed by Mayora.
The undead legion that had made the trip with the five clans became mindless without Thaumaturge’s guidance, and they attacked not only the Zedd’Kaul but also the warlike goliath’s home city. With a new store of power, the five clans rallied and annihilated their foes and moved to help their unwitting new neighbors immediately. The Roan viewed both the undead and the Zedd’Kaul as an invading force and took up arms to defend Mayora.
The Zedd’Kaul assisted in their defense and never raised a hand to harm them, but there was no convincing the hulks that the clans were not their enemies. The language barrier as well as the bizarre state of their arrival caused the Roan to distrust the Zedd’Kaul, and they attacked the clans in force, nearly leading to the Roan’s total extinction. With the Power of the Ancestors, they had been no match for the Zedd’Kaul.
The Roan hadn’t cared that they were outclassed; they seemed intent to fight to the last man. Exhausted from the previous war and not wanting to wipe out an entire race, the clans again convened and sought a solution to this new quandary. In the end, The Oath Pact was drawn up. A way to communicate with the Roan was developed, and emissaries went forth to speak the terms.
“To unquestioningly fight for and die for our Zedd’Kaul masters. To protect and honor them when they are defenseless against a foe. One Roan to watch over one Zedd’Kaul for as long as they draw breath in this existence.” The Roan had to be almost slaughtered into extinction, but in the end, they bent the knee.
The two races now lived in relative harmony. The clans were all thriving and had grown considerably once the peoples of this world had leant their genes to expand the race. Eventually Roghuenoirr had been swallowed up by a growing Mayora, and even the other nations of Gaelaria had accepted the Zedd’Kaul, albeit grudgingly. Peace had been obtained, for a time.
Now things were much the same as they had been back at home. A powerful tyrant was hellsbent on world domination, and the inhabitants of this world had been forced to hide in their Seven Cities. Kable could feel his anger mount and he took a defensive stance, looking around for a possible threat.
“Settle yourself,” Leldric commanded quietly.
The Roan did so, but Leldric felt his reluctance.
Soon we will fight, he sent to Kable.
This time would be different. The Zedd’Kaul were not helpless against this new threat, this Duncar magic. The Power of the Ancestors will stop it; Leldric had no doubts about it. Tearing his eyes from the Well, Leldric strode to the window that overlooked the sea, staring at the storm clouds that had blotted out the sun that day. In his mind’s eye, those clouds were The Blood Sky.
Chapter 23
Loren cringed as she struck the Healer in the back of the head, rendering her unconscious.
“Jenukai, forgive me for that one,” she muttered, extinguishing her belvedere and tossing it aside.
She took a quick, cautionary glance around to make sure she hadn’t been seen. She deftly lifted the motherly looking woman onto her shoulder and swiftly ducked into the shadows of the alley where she had been waiting for her to appear.
Two nights she had watched the Healer come and go from this destitute district in the Kahmay section of Jenukai City, learning her routine and her mannerisms. It was always wise to study someone’s nuances if you were going to impersonate them. Cyus had always said so. Loren felt bad for having to resort to knocking her senseless; this particular Healer went out of her way to treat sick children, and Loren had a soft spot for little ones.
This Healer was the only one she had tracked that went about without an escort these days. Over a dozen Healers had been killed, and they were taking precautions now. She would have rather gone about it any other way, but she hadn’t found a means to get her hands on one of these crimson robes otherwise. All the tailors she had approached thought it too taboo to make duplicates of the Healer garb because of how revered the shamans were. Loren couldn’t blame them; they were just being superstitious. Even though her master scoffed at it as an atheist, she herself was very religious, so she couldn’t begrudge people that.
Thinking of Cyus was an easy way to get distracted. They had become something more than student and teacher, though it galled her sometimes to admit it. The man never said a word about it, but she knew that he saw them as something much more. Loren loved him in turn, but labeling it was more than she could bear at times. Cyus was everything she wanted: loyal, understanding, tender, and extraordinarily intelligent. That didn’t stop her from keeping him at arm’s length when she could help it.
Loren supposed it was because of the person she had become after she had found her calling. She hadn’t always been strongwilled and independent. In fact, she had been a reckless youth with little care for her future, or for anything else, for that matter.
Barely into her womanhood, she had been orphaned, leaving her homeless and with nowhere to go. She had turned to street opiates, and that had been her only way to dull the loss of her parents. She had resorted to petty thievery and eventually prostitution to stay in her drugged state. Soon she became pregnant, and with nothing left to barter with, she sold her newborn son to the highest bidder right after she had given birth. It was a thought that overwhelmed her and made her nauseous even now, but at the time, in her nihilistic state she had done what would keep her sedated.
It was Cyus who had saved her from herself. He was tracking a rapist at the time, one whom had cornered her in an alley not unlike this one. Loren had been catatonic from the opiates and didn’t give any resistance as he was about to have his way with her. Loren didn’t remember much of the event, other than waking up in Cyus’ apartment and having heavy withdrawals from the drugs. It was the most hellacious experience of her life, besides abandoning her boy.
Still, those weeks had been nothing but unimaginable pain and a desperate need for even the smallest of tastes of the opiates to make her feel better. She had cried endlessly, raging at Cyus, beating on him, throwing things, and even resorting to biting and scratching him. Instead of lashing out in return, he had taken it all in stride. He sat there through the long nights cleaning up after she got sick and ignoring her tirades of vicious name calling. He had been so patient while waiting for her to get better.
During the wi
thdrawals she had loathed him, viewing him as a cruel warden that kept her from her selfish wants. As time crept by and he continued to care for her asking for nothing in return, she began to ponder what this stranger was all about. Yes, he had saved her, but what agenda did he covet when it came to her? He never seemed to leave, always keeping a careful eye on her. It took her weeks to look past her hatred and distrust, but when she finally grew curious enough to ask him about his profession, Cyus was the one who broached the subject instead.
He recounted engrossing tale after engrossing tale of the murders, thieves, and crimes he had helped solve or squander. He told her of his training alongside Dain and how it had been his lifelong ambition to join the ranks of the Inspectors. Loren wanted to trust this man, but after years spent on the streets cavorting with unsavory and ruthless people, she demanded proof of his stories.
That’s when it all began. Cyus took her under his wing and showed her all the tricks of his trade. Loren became his apprentice, and they had been an inseparable duo ever since. He was always remarking on what a natural she was and how quickly she adapted to the situations they found themselves in. He started using terminology like prodigy and more than that, equal. He was always telling her that he trusted her more than anyone alive, even Dain.
“And if he found out what you were doing tonight, he would wring your neck,” Loren grumbled again, exerting herself slightly as she disrobed the Healer.
In less than a minute, she was dressed in the crimson robes, hood up with the actual Healer strapped to a cart she had hidden behind some waste bins in the alley. It was not an uncommon sight to see a Healer carting about a patient, even a late hour such as this one. The few pedestrians she saw about gave her a wide, respectful berth. After a few blocks, she came to the establishment she sought.
Dragons of Destiny Page 22
