Shadow of the Conqueror

by Shad M Brooks

  Ahrek didn’t reply, and they left each other to their thoughts for a while.

  “I was wrong, you know,” Ahrek said softly.

  “That you can’t make a good joke to save your life? Good, I’ve been telling you that since we met.”

  “Hah, no. I was wrong about where you’re destined to go. You won’t be going to Outer Darkness.”

  “Are you trying to upset me?”

  “Surely you still don’t want your existence to end.”

  “If it releases me from my guilt and pain, of course I do.”

  “Is it still so bad, even after facing your crimes?”

  “Having heard every terrible thing I’ve done and coming face to face with those I’ve wronged? Yeah, I feel great.”

  Ahrek grimaced. “Oh… Sorry.”

  Daylen sighed. “It’s fine. I’ll always bear my guilt, but lately, apart from actually sitting through the trial, things do feel better. Knowing that I’m about to answer for what I’ve done does make me feel at peace.”

  “Then what would the Outer Darkness offer you?”

  “Fine, if not Outer Darkness, then what? Do you think the Light will take me into itself?”

  “I think you have more of a chance of redemption than you credit.”

  “Hah! Finally a funny joke.”

  “I mean it.”

  “Really? Well… I suppose I’ll find out soon.”

  High Fall dawned, and no one came to collect him. Daylen waited with Ahrek, and by mid High a messenger came to tell him that the recess was extended until the next fall.

  “I wonder what’s taking them so long?” Ahrek said.

  “Probably waiting on the right type of executioner. I wonder how they’ll do it? Hanging, guillotine, impaling, a chopping block?”

  “That’s a morbid thing to consider.”

  “Personally I like the way that the old Kreen did it.”

  “The Kreen?”

  “A society of mountain barbarians who were eventually conquered by Dererian the Mighty. They would execute people by throwing them into a pit of beasts with a sword in their hand.”

  “With a sword you could just fight off the beasts.”

  Daylen shook his head. “Not with the amount of beasts they used.”

  When the next fall came around, Daylen was marched out of his cell. He had gone through this so many times recently, but this time it felt different. He was walking to his death.

  He had meant what he’d said to Ahrek—finally, after so many years, he felt at peace.

  Ahrek was silent as the two of them were flown to the Fair Grounds.

  As Daylen emerged from the van, he found that the grounds were even more packed and crowded than any fall before.

  Over a thousand national soldiers surrounded the large wooden stage.

  Daylen was led to his chair, which faced the opposite direction this time, toward the pews.

  Ahrek stood at his side.

  Once Daylen was locked into his seat, Darenlight took his place on the moderator’s pulpit. “All to order,” he said, and waited for the crowds to quiet down. “The sentencing will now begin. As the defendant has pled guilty to all charges, a verdict does not need to be issued. After much, much, debate, we the rulers of Tellos sentence Daylen Namaran, more commonly known as Dayless the Conqueror…to lifelong imprisonment and service in the custody of the Arch Order of Light. A suspended sentence of death is in place, pending any crimes he might commit.”

  “What?” Daylen said in total disbelief.

  Shock and amazement exploded from the huge crowd.

  The rulers looked resigned, disgusted, accepting, angry – and some few even seemed pleased.

  They’re—they’re actually letting me live? Daylen thought incredulously.

  The crowd was screaming so loudly that it was hard to make out if the majority were pleased or outraged. Daylen guessed outrage, but it was definitely a mix.

  “Order! ORDER!”

  The command had no effect and the soldiers all stood on guard as the people jeered and shouted.

  So that was why there were so many soldiers in attendance.

  “WE WILL HAVE ORDER!” Darenlight demanded.

  Finally, the massive throng settled somewhat, making the last few cries discernible.

  “You murderous bastard!”

  “Kill him!”

  “He saved the city, let him live!”

  “Death to the Conqueror!”

  “I understand that this sentence deserves to be explained,” Darenlight said loudly, finally bringing the people under control. “Most of us agree that this man deserves to die for what he has done, but we have ultimately decided that it would be too great a waste. Daylen Namaran has shown by his actions that he truly intends to fight evil for the remainder of his days. Of course, that doesn’t change what he has done or the fact that we cannot be sure he might regress into his old ways. Thus his freedom is forever stripped, and he will remain under the watchful eye of the Archknights until the day that he finally dies.”

  Daylen slumped in his chair, feeling true dismay and dread, tears escaping from his eyes. Though these rulers didn’t know it, they had actually inflicted the most terrible punishment possible for him. He had to live.

  The Light truly had no mercy.

  Ahrek placed his hand on Daylen’s shoulder, but Daylen didn’t look at him. It wasn’t Ahrek’s fault that Daylen had received this sentence; it wasn’t even Senator Terain’s. It was Daylen’s. He was the one who had performed those actions that were now the reasons why his life had been spared. He had chosen to help people and fight darkness, and now even though he desired rest more than anything, he would have to continue to do just that.

  Back when he had cheated death the first time round and received his powers, he had told the Light that he would live his new life fighting evil and saving people. Well, more than anything, this seemed to indicate that the Light had accepted his offer. At least he could still do good—it wasn’t like they were throwing him in a cell for the rest of his life. So that was something.

  “I know this is hard for you, Daylen,” Ahrek said.

  “Yeah, well, that’s life.”

  “You were planning on joining the knights, anyway. That’s just going to happen sooner than you thought.”

  Daylen looked up at the man. “After all I’ve done, how can they let me live?”

  “Because of what you did these past falls, and what you’ll do in the future.”

  “We release the convicted into the hands of the knights and end the sentencing,” Darenlight said. “You may all go about your business.”

  The rulers stood and made their way off the stand. The crowd started to rumble with conversation.

  Daylen’s Archknight guards were joined by three others of the Order before they unlocked his shackles from the chair.

  “You’re coming with us,” the female knight said.

  Daylen forced himself to stand, not totally convinced he was lucid. This was a reality that shouldn’t exist.

  “Could you give us a minute?” Daylen said to the knights, while indicating to Ahrek next to him. They nodded and stepped aside.

  “You don’t need to come with me, Ahrek,” Daylen said. “My freedom is gone, and it’s not like the knights will let you hang around.”

  “Then they don’t know how insistent I can be…but you’re right. As I slept last Low, the Light released me from my charge. I have fulfilled its will. Part of me longs to accompany you still, but my place is not with the knights.”

  Daylen nodded heavily. “I’ll miss you, Ahrek.”

  “And I you, but please don’t think that I won’t be visiting. We’ll be friends forever, you and I.”

  Daylen smiled, and his heart warmed. “Out of everything that’s happened, that strikes me as more a miracle than anything else: two men who were the worst of enemies, one with mighty cause for that, now the closest of friends.”

  “The Light works in mysterious wa
ys. It clearly knew that we needed this. I could have never overcome the darkness in my heart without your help.”

  “And I never would have confronted my crimes. I’ll be seeing you, Ahrek.”

  Ahrek smiled. “Oh, you can be sure of that.”

  And with that they embraced each other before Daylen turned back to the knights.

  “We have a ship waiting,” the female knight said. “This way.”

  Daylen sat above deck on the Archknight skyship, flying to the Hold in deep reflection. It was as if the chapter in Daylen’s life as the Conqueror was finally closed. He realized that, though his rule had been ended long ago, the fact that so many of his crimes had remained unanswered meant that he hadn’t truly been able to move beyond them, emotionally or mentally. As he had said to Ahrek after saving the city, if he was truly sorry for his crimes, then he should answer for them. Now he had, and though the debt remained, which he would be paying for the rest of his new life, he could finally say truthfully to himself that he was sincerely sorry for his sins. He had proven that much—and for the first time in a long time, it made him feel good about himself.

  As with his guilt, who the Conqueror had been would still be a part of him for the rest of his life, forever there as a constant reminder to never approach any thought or practice that might lead to the same mistakes. Indeed, the Conqueror’s memory seemed to act like a bulwark against his weaknesses, like the revulsion he had experienced when Sharra had tried to seduce him. The Conqueror in Daylen now ensured that that very same person would never come back. He felt more in control of himself and his weaknesses than ever before.

  And now a new chapter in his blackened long life was beginning. He was to be a slave. That was the sentence inflicted upon him, and he would accept it…so long as being a slave meant he could continue to fulfill his new life’s purpose to hunt out the evil of the world and destroy it. That was the only reason the Light had spared his life. Daylen had made his offering, the penance for his sins, and the Light had accepted. The leaders of the nations, the Archknights, and his sentence of slavery could jump off the edge of the world if they would try to prevent him from that purpose.

  The ship descended and docked next to a large balcony that was built on the back wall of the Hold’s main keep.

  The gangplank was lowered and Daylen disembarked to find someone waiting for him.

  “Lyrah?” he asked in shock.

  Lyrah was not looking pleased.

  “Take those manacles off,” she ordered to the other knights, “as well as the inhibitor.”

  The female knight who seemed to be the leader amongst his attendants replied, “But…”

  “They’re useless; he could break free at any time if he wished.”

  “Um… As you wish, Archonair.”

  “Good,” Lyrah said once Daylen’s restraints had been removed. “Now, leave us.”

  The knights looked to each other hesitantly and then did as commanded.

  “Because of my experience in dealing with you, I’ll be your custodian and guard.”

  This was the last thing Daylen had expected, as Lyrah had made it very clear that she never wanted to see him again. Pain and guilt swelled within him, but incredibly, part of him was glad to see her. “But don’t they know…” Daylen began.

  “The whole world knows my history with you,” Lyrah said.

  “Oh yeah, right. And you were still assigned to be my custodian?”

  “I was asked if our history would affect my service. It won’t.” She looked at him intently. “It might have in the past, but not anymore. You have no more power over me. You mean nothing, and you’ll not speak to me in any familiar way. Understood?”

  “I understand,” Daylen said, and waved a hand to the mighty Hold. “So where do I fit in with all of this?”

  “That’ll be determined by the Archain and the Archeron Council, who I’m to take you to once things are sorted out here.”

  “I look forward to it,” Daylen said as Lyrah turned. He followed, feeling the despair over his continued life subside as purpose grew in his heart. It was the same sense of purpose he had felt when committing his new life to do good shortly after receiving his powers. It was interesting that in every choice Daylen had ever made it was with the intent to do good, but his life was proof that intent didn’t mean spit. Ultimately it was his actions that defined who he was, and this time Daylen’s actions actually mirrored his initial intent. It made him feel better about himself than he had in a long, long, time.

  Daylen could actually do it. He could do good and fight evil without making the same mistakes of his past.

  He could be a better man—and in fact, he thought with a bittersweet smile, he was.

  About the Author

  He likes swords.