Aikur's War

by Sam Ferguson

  The pink and black walls seemed almost endless, going on for miles and disappearing in the depths of the red, fiery caverns before him. He wasn’t even sure if his position in the tunnels was still under the island anymore, or if perhaps he had walked so far as to technically be under the ocean at the moment. Without the walls, there were Bloodguards everywhere. The horrible orcish soldiers wielded swords, pikes, axes, and every imaginable weapon. Some groups he could see were busy tormenting unfortunate souls with whips of fire. The Bloodguards made the spirits work, gathering stone and cutting more tunnels into the rock around them. Aikur didn’t even dare to count the Bloodguards. There were legion upon legion on the outside of the walls alone. There was no way for him to know how many more might be inside. He pulled his cloak tighter around himself, thankful that he had not been discovered as of yet.

  Finally, after what seemed like an hour or more of standing and dodging Bloodguards unaware of his presence, a large host emerged from one of the tunnels beyond the gate. One of the orcs blew a bugle, the low tone echoing clearly off the cavern walls. A loud gong sounded from within the walls and the gates opened. A flood of souls streamed out. The Bloodguards swooped down on them, cracking fiery whips and beating them with their hellish weapons. The souls all fell back like a wave, receding into the city of hell.

  Aikur took his chance and slipped into the pressing throng. He ducked under weapons and carefully pushed through the condemned souls as he hurried through the open gates. A signal horn blasted a loud note and the crowds parted.

  Scurrying up next to a wall, Aikur was careful to keep his breath quiet. A great figure in flowing, tattered robes floated above the ground, looking down upon the souls and the Bloodguards. He carried a large scythe, and his face was covered by a hood. Aikur knew at once it was Khefir, Hatmul’s brother and the reaper of the damned.

  The god bellowed a command in a language that Aikur could not comprehend. The Bloodguards all moved quickly and orderly, clearing most of the souls from the area, leaving only ten or so in the middle before Khefir. Aikur watched intently as Khefir conjured a tablet from thin air and approached the souls.

  “Morgana Desirth,” Khefir said in the Common Tongue as he approached one of the souls. “For the crimes you committed while in your mortal life, Hatmul has decreed that your punishment shall be eternity in Vishnar, the second level of hell.”

  The female spirit cried out in protest, but was quickly wrapped in fiery chains by a pair of Bloodguards and dragged off into a door on the far side of the courtyard.

  Khefir moved to the next soul. “Maxim Kurian, for your crimes, you have been sentenced to an eternity in Hammenfein city, the first level of hell.”

  The male spirit hung his head, and accepted his fate as another pair of Bloodguards approached and wrapped him in fiery chains. They pulled him away into another door nearby where Aikur stood.

  Khefir moved on through the next five souls, sending each to their predetermined fates. However, when the reaper stood before the last soul, he stopped and looked at the tablet for a few moments. It was then that Aikur noticed that the spirit of a Konnon man which stood before Khefir.

  The reaper drew his hood back to reveal a bony skull, devoid of any flesh or tissue. The jaw clicked slightly as Khefir spoke. “Ander Marzahn, you have lived an honorable life upon the mortal plane, but you are unfortunate to be cursed by your race. Those upon the mortal world failed to offer you final rites, and therefore your soul is forfeit to Hammenfein.” Aikur could almost swear that Khefir would be frowning if he actually had a face to show emotion. The tone in the god’s voice showed the slightest hints of empathy for the cursed Konnon.

  “I accept my fate,” Ander said proudly. He held his wrists out for the Bloodguards and nodded that he was ready to be taken to his place of torment.

  “Take him to the chamber where such unfortunate souls are kept,” Khefir said.

  A single Bloodguard approached the Konnon spirit and took him by the arm, without chains, to a room farther down the east side. Aikur was quick to follow, hoping that perhaps his wife and children would be there as well.

  The door opened and Ander walked in. Aikur slid by the Bloodguard just before the door closed and immediately jumped to the left to avoid bumping into a trio of Bloodguards who were waiting to receive Ander’s spirit.

  “Vidd ot alatti,” one of the Bloodguards said as he pushed Ander’s spirit forward with one hand and pointed with his other hand in a downward motion. The other two led the spirit down an iron staircase to a massive row of cells and rooms that seemed to go on endlessly. Aikur looked down and noticed that the Bloodguard who had given the command had a key attached to his belt. The Bloodguard turned then and looked right at Aikur.

  Aikur’s heart froze and his breath caught in his throat. The Bloodguard took a couple of steps toward him. Only when the Bloodguard looked down and fumbled with his keys did Aikur realize the guard could not see him, he was simply going to lock the door.

  Aikur slipped out of the way and watched as the Bloodguard locked the door and then went to sit at a table nearby. The orcish brute filled a mug with something that looked like wine and took a long drink as he closed his eyes and relaxed his head on the back of the chair.

  Aikur moved on to search the cells. He walked down the endless hall for hours, scanning each cell he passed, searching the myriad faces inside, but to no avail. He kept walking and searching until he found a side chamber. He went in and found a palatial room decorated with gold and gems in the walls. The furniture was exquisitely crafted, and the beds and couches appeared soft and luxurious with their many pillows and thick, inviting cushions. A few Bloodguards slept in the room. Some others lounged on the couches and ate fresh fruits from a platter of gold.

  Aikur’s stomach growled slightly at the sight of the food, but he pushed his hunger aside and moved on down the hall. He turned down a side corridor and saw many more holding cells. His heart sank within his chest and his hopes began to fade. It felt as though he would never find them. The halls of Hammenfein were much larger than he had ever anticipated.

  At that moment, a group of three smaller souls crossed the corridor in front of him. One Bloodguard led the children. A chain of fire linked each of the souls by the wrists. Aikur could no longer hold his anger. He stalked the Bloodguard, waiting only until the group passed out of sight of the cells down a narrow corridor. The orc opened a cell and motioned for the children to walk inside. No sooner did the first child pass the orc than Aikur ran the golden ram’s horn through the Bloodguard’s chest. The orc’s mouth twisted in agony, but no sound came out before the Bloodguard vanished. The children froze in place, staring at the empty air in front of them. Aikur unclasped his cloak just long enough to hold a finger over his mouth and quiet the children.

  “I can help you,” he told them, “but first I need some help from you.” He told them of his wife and child. The young spirits told him they knew of a family that matched their description two corridors over. Aikur ushered the children into the cell and promised to be back once he had his family. He then fastened his cloak once more and started off.

  He ran back to the junction with the other corridor and then continued on as the children had instructed him. When he arrived at the cell he found only three people inside. He saw his lovely wife sitting in the back, near the wall, talking in hushed whispers to Dezri, but there was another child with them. His heart skipped and his eyes welled with tears. Of course, Karyna had been pregnant. He was looking at the spirit of his unborn child, sitting there with his wife. A lump formed in his throat so that when he opened his mouth, he barely made more than a squeak.

  Aikur scanned the hallway for guards and then cleared his throat. He whistled sharply and tapped his knuckles against the iron bars of the cell. His wife looked up and frowned. Realizing she couldn’t see him, he unclasped his cloak and smiled as he gestured for them to be silent. His wife jumped up and ran to the cell door, tears upon her face.

&nb
sp; “Tell me you are not dead,” she cried. “Tell me you are still live!”

  Aikur nodded and reached between the bars to take her hands in his, but he felt only cold as his physical hands passed through hers. “I am alive,” he assured her. “I am here for you.”

  “No, you can’t be here,” she said. “They will catch you.”

  Aikur smiled. “The gods are on our side, my love.”

  “He te, mit kereshel betolakod?” an angry voice shouted from nearby.

  Instinctively, Aikur jumped back from the cell and fastened the cloak, disappearing from the Bloodguard’s view. The orc’s hand went for a bugle at his hip, but Aikur was already upon him. He thrust his spear into the demon’s neck before the warning could be sent. The spirit disappeared as all the others had, leaving only a golden key that fell upon the ground. Aikur took the key and ran to the cell door. He opened it and gathered his family under the cloak with him.

  They had to walk slowly, otherwise the cloak would sway too much to cover their feet, but eventually they made it out of Hammenfein. Aikur escorted them all the way to the ship and all of the warriors shouted his praise. The elves hurried to cast off, but Aikur stopped them, telling them of his promise to the children that had helped him find his family.

  Against the advice of the elves, and despite the protests from his own family, Aikur went back into the bowels of Hammenfein. He left Finnigrel in charge, and stipulated that they should cast off after he disembarked and keep a safe distance from Mat’Jhar, just in case he was discovered.

  The elves did as he commanded, and took the ship out far enough that it was necessary to use a spyglass to scan the beach. They waited for the space of a day and a half. Finnigrel and the other warriors all prayed to the old gods for their blessings and Aikur’s family maintained constant vigil from the bow.

  Finally, Aikur appeared with the souls of forty children, and several Konnon adults who had done no wrong during their lives except for failing to have their final rites performed. He waved for the ship and the elves bolstered the sails with their magic, sailing in speedily as they could. They loaded the liberated souls and then set sail for Belknap with much haste.

  The rest of the voyage was uneventful. The seafarers were met with fair weather and favorable winds. They made the journey to Belknap faster than expected, and the king’s priests were there as promised.

  After the ship was secured to the small, weather-worn dock, the other Konnon spirits ran down the planks and up toward the shrine. Aikur turned to the surviving warriors that had made the journey with him. He gave the spear to the captain of the ship as promised, so it could be given to the king at Tirnog. Then he removed his armor and laid it out upon a large wooden crate.

  “See that these items get returned to the king,” he said. The warriors each promised to see it done, and then Aikur turned to Finnigrel. “For you, take my axe, and take the flute,” he said with a smile.

  “Will you be all right now?” Finnigrel asked as he took the items in hand.

  Aikur glanced to his wife and children and smiled. “We’ll be just fine.” He bade a final farewell and then walked with his family toward the shrine.

  Karyna was quiet as the children played and ran about upon the grass, happy to once again be free. Aikur tried again to hold his wife’s hand, but his physical form slid through her hand before he remembered that it wouldn’t work.

  “Soon,” Karyna said.

  Aikur smiled, and for the first time since that horrible morning, he felt peace in his heart.

  They walked up to the shrine, which was much smaller than Aikur had expected. It was a building built of stone, about thirty feet high in the center, and built as if two square foundations had been laid out to arrange an eight-pointed star. The front door opened for the priests, and the other spirits were busy shouting and calling out as periodic flashes of light would burst from within the shrine and reach the doorway, casting blue and violet hues onto the grass.

  As Aikur approached, he could see the priests giving each spirit their final rights. Each time they finished, a spirit would vanish from the shrine in a dazzling display of colorful lights. Both the young children and the adults praised Aikur as they made their final journey into Volganor.

  Behind the priests stood a tall woman with white wings. She wore a steel helmet and breastplate, and carried a tall spear. She turned to meet Aikur’s gaze and then walked toward him. The priest finished giving final rights to one of the spirits and another eruption of light tore through the darkness inside the shrine.

  “I am Nagé,” the tall woman said as she stopped inside the doorway, blocking Aikur’s entrance.

  “I am Aikur Anarin,” Aikur said. “This is my family.”

  Nagé looked to Karyna and offered a nod. “You have done something that no other has ever been able to do,” Nagé said. “You went into the bowels of Hammenfein and rescued others that had been trapped there.”

  Aikur nodded. “My wife and children are good people,” Aikur said, hoping such an explanation would satisfy the goddess.

  “All children are innocent, but the adults I must judge,” Nagé said. She turned to Karyna and stared at her for a few moments. Then, a bright smile stretched the goddess’ lips under the open-faced helmet. “You are indeed good. Go in, and you shall have your reward.”

  Karyna and the children walked into the shrine.

  Aikur then took in a breath and looked to Nagé. “And may I go in as well?” he asked.

  “You?” Nagé said. “You are not yet dead.”

  “Please, I have suffered enough. I wish to be with them.”

  Nagé reached out and placed a hand on Aikur’s head. The large Konnon could feel a wave of warmth flow into him. “You have guilt,” she said. “You have regrets and shame.”

  Aikur nodded. “There are things I have done that I am not proud of,” he said.

  Nagé continued. “Yet, you acted with honor. You were tricked into fighting the goblins, so there should be no shame for you in that. You also know that Icadion has decreed that all members of the cursed races should be destroyed, so fighting the goblins would not have kept you from Volganor in any case.” She pulled her hand back and looked deeply into his eyes. “Moreover, even with everything you were put through, you did not let your vengeance control you in the end. You spared those who were not warriors, and you fought for peace before you were betrayed. You may hold your head high.”

  Nagé then extended the tip of her spear to touch Aikur’s forehead. There was a dazzling, blinding flash of white light as Aikur’s body fell to the ground behind him, and his spirit was left standing at the door of the shrine.

  “Uzun do rath, mo keth dun soreen,” Nagé said in the Konnon Old Tongue. “Azertu doraw, molith kun sinah.”

  Aikur felt a swell of energy embrace him.

  “Come, you may enter Volganor,” Nagé said. “Enter, and take your rest.” Aikur stepped into the shrine and found his wife and children waiting for him. This time, when he took her hand, he was able to hold hers. He laughed and bent down to scoop up Dezri as Karyna held the younger baby in her other arm. Many colors rippled through the shrine as the rear wall fell away to reveal a bridge that appeared to be made of a rainbow.

  “Let’s go home,” Karyna said. “We’ve missed you.”

  “And I have been lost without you.” Aikur started to walk, but then Dezri punched him in the chest. Aikur turned on his son and saw the young toddler spirit giggling and smiling wide.

  “I stwoooongeeeeerrrrrrrrr!”

  Epilogue

  Jaeger sat on a hilltop nearby, watching the smoldering fires die out over the city he had come to love. Toran was no more. He could still hear the angry shrieks and shouts of the demons that searched for the crystal even now.

  “I’m sorry, Lysander, I failed.” He looked down and plunged Myrskyn, Lysander’s magical sword, into a stump. The gnome then turned to the albino ram and climbed atop the creature’s back. With only one horn left i
n the city, the magic had failed to protect Toran, and the demons had come searching for the crystal Jaeger now held in his left hand. “Others may praise the name Aikur Anarin, but not I,” Jaeger said. “I will curse the impulsiveness of humans, their lack of judgment, and their quickness to act without considering the repercussions of their actions.”

  Jaeger looked around, hoping to find some inspiration for where to go. It would be easier if Reshem appeared. Perhaps then Jaeger would be able to take some comfort in his actions. As it was, no one would be able to find him now. Not Lysander, nor Reshem. The gnome sighed and offered up a prayer to Mother Terramyr, then turned to cast one more longing glance toward the swaying columns of smoke rising up over the ruins of Toran.

  “Come, ram, we need to find another place to hide,” Jaeger said. The gnome patted the animal on the neck and it turned to flee. It sprinted over hill and vale, darting through the dense woods of the forest and outrunning even the swiftest of demons as they traveled southward toward the Murkle Quags.

  About the Author

  Sam Ferguson is the proud author of more than twenty fantasy novels. He launched his writing career with The Dragon’s Champion series, cracking the Top 100 for epic fantasy books. He has also written The Netherworld Gate Trilogy, The Sorceress of Aspenwood Trilogy, and The Haymaker Adventures to name just a few. He has had several #1 best-sellers in the U.K. and Australia, as well as a couple of top 20 hits in the U.S.

  Nearly all of his novels take place on Terramyr, a single world rife with varying races, religions, and conflicts that propel the world itself along through its timeline toward a final climax. So, while each novel or series can be savored on its own, the more a person reads, the more immersed they become with Terramyr, its gods, and the grand events that will ultimately prove the worth and decide the fate of its inhabitants. (Sam has also hidden a few Easter Eggs such as crossover characters and other fun tid-bits for the eager reader!)