by Sam Ferguson
“No matter how many times you make me relive my parents’ deaths, I will always hate you. I, like Khefir, believe you to be a wicked elf. Whatever business you have with me, you can forget about it. I will not help you.”
“One final vision then,” Jahre said.
“Enough visions,” Talon replied. “I want nothing more to do with your meddling.”
“You have no choice!” Jahre shouted with such force that the very core of Talon’s soul trembled and quaked. “I gave my word to my son –your father— that I would fight for you. On Ea’s grave, I will get through that thick, damaged skull of yours if it is the last thing I do.”
A golden cord appeared from the darkness and wrapped itself around Talon’s spirit. The dead assassin tried to move, but found his struggles futile. He was the elf’s prisoner.
The darkness fell out from below them and the two spirits dropped down onto some valley that Talon didn’t recognize. There were strange trees that he did not know. The forest stretched out to the north for as far as he could see until a great range of snow-capped mountains stopped them. To the south were green, tall grasses covering hills and valleys. A river bordered the east, running out to the sea in the south.
Two armies were on opposite sides of the field. One had managed to build wooden palisades and blockades. The other had erected siege engines and marshalled a large force of footmen.
“What does this battle have to do with me?” Talon asked. “Is this a picture of the End War you keep talking about?”
Jahre sniggered. “This is a war of men. The End War will be much more than that. No, this battle has nothing to do with you.”
“Then why show me?”
Jahre pointed to the army on the western side. “If you look carefully, you will see a large man, dressed in heavy armor and shrouded in fire.”
Talon watched as catapults threw burning clay pots toward the palisade. The projectiles crashed and exploded, showering the area in flame and creating a thick blanket of smoke.
“You see, the captain of that army thought it would be a good idea to send one of his biggest men dressed as Basei.”
Talon’s interest piqued and he watched intently. A large man came forward, shouting and hollering as a group of enemy soldiers rushed out from the palisade. The large man cut through a number of them, pretending to call down fire from the sky as more catapults launched additional projectiles. Soon, the enemy soldiers were rushing back into the safety of their palisade, closing the gates and shouting out the name Basei as they ran through their camp sounding alarms.
“This isn’t going to end well,” Jahre said with a shake of his head. “Look up, Talon, and tell me what you see.”
Talon looked up and saw a large fireball, much like the one that had landed in his home village when he was a boy. He felt the same knot of fear grip him and twist his core. The fiery ball crashed down into the ground, melting the pretender in an instant and showering dirt and fire all around.
The giant demi-god roared and leapt out from the sphere. He held his left hand out and engulfed the western army with flame. The soldiers behind the palisade began to cheer, but their fortune was short lived.
Basei growled and turned on them in his fury. He cut the gate down with one swing of his mighty sword and then he set about his work of destruction. Bodies were hewn in two, tents and walls were razed to the ground. Basei even slew the horses. When he had finished, there were none left alive, just like it had happened in Talon’s village.
“Why do you show me this?” Talon roared.
Jahre turned and put a finger up to silence Talon.
Basei turned in their direction and started walking toward them, cutting down obstacles in his way as he scanned the area.
“This is no memory,” Jahre warned. “This is happening right now. True, it is in a land far from our own, but I wanted to show you what Basei does throughout Terramyr.”
“I already know Basei is despicable,” Talon replied.
“Who dares insult the mighty Basei?” Basei thundered. Fire and smoke whirled around the two ghosts, and Jahre moved in close to Talon, sliding a golden cord into the dead assassin’s mouth.
“A demi-god is not all-powerful, but we do not want him to find us yet,” Jahre cautioned.
Basei stormed toward them, but Jahre was able to whisk the two spirits back with his magic. As they ascended back into the clouds, Talon could hear the wailing, angry Basei down below.
“He slaughters indiscriminately,” Jahre said once they were back in the dark chamber. “I thought you should see that.”
The golden cords loosened and Talon was again able to move and speak. “I saw it before. Why do you think I am after him?”
Jahre held a finger up. “Then you agree he had no right to kill both armies just now?”
Talon narrowed his eyes. “Are you trying to play upon my conscience?”
Jahre shook his head. “No, I am trying to ply logic. You saw what Basei is wont to do. What do you imagine he will choose when the End War comes? Will he side with the world, or will he destroy it all just for the sake of having something to fight?”
Talon didn’t answer, but he didn’t have too. They both knew the truth of it.
Jahre moved in close. “Now, the question is, what would you do in his place?”
Talon turned a puzzled look on the elf.
“If you had Basei’s power, where would you stand in the End War?”
“You said that the council would send the four horsemen to destroy the world. Maybe I would side with them, and ascend to a higher throne.”
Jahre nodded. “But how would that sit with your conscience?” he asked. “Could you live with that reality? After all, to side with the four horsemen would mean that you would have to help them destroy everything. Young, old, male, and female.”
Talon shook his head. “Maybe I wouldn’t side with them,” Talon began. “Then again, I wouldn’t have to stop them either.”
Jahre pointed an ethereal finger at Talon. “No, I know you better than that, boy. You would yearn to protect the mothers of this world. You have, after all, one rule that you must live by. You don’t kill women. Standing by while monsters killed them would stain your hands as much as if you were swinging the sword yourself.”
Talon looked down and shook his head. “You would stake all of your hope in me?”
Jahre moved in closer still and nodded emphatically. “I have seen what you can do if you come down on the right side. I have already paid the price to give you another chance. So has your father.”
“Why?”
“Because I saw that you would kill Basei,” Jahre replied. “When your mother and father became pregnant, I saw that you would grow to slay the horrid demi-god. I saw that with his power you would heal much of the suffering in this world. That is the Talon I fight to save, even now.”
“But you also saw a version where I become something ‘worse’ as you called it. Where I use the position of a demigod for something else, becoming something even more powerful,” Talon pressed.
Jahre backed away and nodded solemnly. “I did. There are more than one such versions of the future, in fact. Some show you storming Hammenfein to release your father’s soul, thereby bringing the council down upon Terramyr centuries before it otherwise would. Other versions show that you become as bloodthirsty as Basei. Others show that you simply fade away, turning your back upon a dying world.” Jahre stopped then, his spirit trembling as he seemed to be fighting the words that came next. “There is one even more terrifying than any of those though. A vision of death and destruction that eclipses all known catastrophes conceivable in this world. In that vision, I saw—”
Talon didn’t need to wait for the explanation. He had seen it in his dreams during the first night of his death. “I use the Sierri’Tai army to destroy all of the gods.”
Jahre nodded. “It would mean the end of all life.” The two stood there for several moments before Jahre looked up and put o
n a forced smile. “That future is far from you, I think. You and I know you have a conscience, even if you won’t admit it to yourself. Otherwise you would kill women as easily as men.” Jahre leaned in for added emphasis. “Additionally, now that we are spirits, I have had the opportunity to look over your history in its entirety. Not only have you a rule against killing women, but you have never slain a child either.”
Talon smirked. He was not about to let Jahre win the debate so easily. “You are forgetting something, elf.”
Jahre knit his brow and tilted his head to the side. “Am I?”
“You fail to see how my starting a war between Shausmat and Zinferth has led to the death of many, including women and children.” Talon smiled to himself as he watched Jahre squirm and fish for a rebuttal.
Jahre’s mouth hung open. “But…you didn’t kill them directly.”
“Nor did I stop them from being killed. I did what was necessary to accomplish my goals. What makes you believe I won’t do the same on a much larger scale if it suits me?”
Jahre closed his glowing eyes. “I refuse to believe that you will. When the time comes, you must choose right. You must!”
CHAPTER 2
Kelden stumbled forward. A rough hand pushed his back while another seized his upper arm and yanked him onward. The chains connecting his ankles rattled and slithered across the stone floor. A faint bit of light managed to penetrate the bag over his head, but it did nothing to help orient the man while he was shoved and pulled.
He heard a metallic click, and then the squeaking hinges of a door. He was pulled forward and greeted by the sounds of cheers.
“Kill the spy!” someone shouted out.
“Death to the queen’s man!” another hollered.
A breeze swirled around him, alerting him that he was now outside. The rattling of his chains softened as they scraped along hardened dirt instead of stone with each step, as Kelden was escorted forward by a man on either side.
The bag was ripped from his head and the light assaulted his eyes. He staggered to his left and shook his head as he squinted against the brightness, but the men with him didn’t allow him any time to recover. The two escorts pushed and pulled with a sense of urgency that was unnerving.
When his eyes finally adjusted, Kelden realized where he was. He was out behind the prison, approaching the gallows. The platform was raised six feet from the ground, and was fifteen feet long and eight feet wide. The beam running over the platform was thick and sturdy, easily capable of supporting four or five men at a time.
Today, there was only one rope hanging down from the beam.
A two wheeled cart behind the gallows held a pile of bodies from the previous day’s hanging. Kelden had seen several officers taken from their cells over the last several days, never to return. Now, he was about to join them.
Kelden felt a knot grow in the pit of his stomach. How had it come to this? He had survived so much, only to be brought now to a grotesque end by a rope. This is not what he had ever imagined his final moments to be like. There were seven men standing before the platform, all wearing Shausmatian uniforms. On the platform stood Captain Vald, the commander responsible for Kobhir’s downfall.
If only Kelden had succeeded in his attempt to assassinate the man, perhaps the war would have gone differently. Kelden sighed and hung his head low, looking to the ground. The man pulling him along nearly dragged him up the stairs and onto the platform. He led him to the rope and then motioned to the stool below the noose.
Kelden tested the ropes binding his wrists. His skin stung instantly and the rope wouldn’t yield at all. There was nothing he could do.
“Up you go,” one of the men said sourly.
Kelden stepped up with his right foot, and then half-jumped the rest of the way onto the stool. The Shausmatians in front of him shouted and hurled insults.
Vald stepped over to stand in front of Kelden. The hard man narrowed his eyes on Kelden and tilted his head to the side, almost nodding. “I have a great deal of respect for what you tried to do,” he whispered. “I have talked with Queen Dalynn about you. It seems you were most loyal in all of your efforts. Your valor and courage is beyond question.”
Kelden looked curiously at Vald, wondering where this conversation was going, and why Vald would take the time to say any of it.
“The queen made an impassioned plea for your life, informing me of how you single-handedly put down an insurrection,” Vald said. “Then, you destroyed a network of human smugglers that had permeated through each one of your major cities. Truly you are an agent of value to your sovereign.” Vald set his jaw to the side and smoothed out the shoulders of Kelden’s shirt before smiling and bringing his hands down to his sides. His face took on a somewhat harder expression and his voice grew stern, but the smile still remained. “But then there is the matter of how you retook Rasselin. I won’t say I was sorry to learn of General Tehrigg’s death at your hands. I disliked working with the treacherous lout. However, your actions in Rasselin took an important foothold from my army. Now I will have to spend time hunting down all of the soldiers we had already captured that you released.”
Kelden stood firm, watching Vald, but saying nothing.
Vald shook his head. “Your actions were noble, from a Zinferthian point of view, but for me they are troublesome. You have made the roads more dangerous for my men. Supplies have to be well guarded now to avoid being attacked by marauders and guerillas.” Vald’s smile disappeared. “Then there is the fact that you had the audacity to try to kill me. I must say, it was a bold move. Had you succeeded, perhaps Kobhir would still stand under a Zinferth flag.” Vald sighed and glanced out to the men waiting in front of the gallows and then turned back to Kelden. “I am sure that Nage will reward you for your valor, but as a commanding officer, I cannot allow someone as dangerous as you to live.”
Vald offered a half smile and motioned for one of the escorts to leave. He then turned back to Kelden. “I almost regret needing to do this. A man of your caliber is nearly unheard of.” Vald shrugged and shook his head. “However, I know that if I let you go, you would only find your way back to make more trouble for me, and I can’t have that. Please know, that I have the utmost respect for you, Captain Ferryl.”
“You haven’t won yet,” Kelden said.
Vald made a puffing sound through his nose and pursed his lips as he shook his head. “String him up,” Vald told the second escort.
The coarse, thick rope scratched Kelden’s forehead as the noose was slid down into place. Kelden felt the escort’s hands work the rope, tightening the knot and centering it behind his head.
The next few moments seemed a blur. Vald exited the courtyard and closed the door loudly. One of the soldiers standing in front of the platform came forward and started listing the charges against Kelden.
Kelden eyed the seven Shausmatian soldiers and felt his anger grow inside of him. Then, he caught one of the soldiers winking at him. Kelden frowned and looked closer. The green eyed man slipped behind another Shausmatian and seemed to disappear into the small crowd as if he had only been a figment of Kelden’s imagination. Captain Ferryl scanned the group, searching for the green-eyed man, but the soldier who had been listing the charges against Kelden raised his arm and dropped it.
The escort closest to Kelden kicked the stool out from under Kelden, and for half a second everything moved in slow motion. At first he didn’t feel himself falling down. His feet flew out with the stool, and his torso lurched backward as if he had slipped on something. The soldiers cheered and threw their fists in the air.
Then Kelden felt himself descending. He tensed. His muscles stiffened and his eyes closed. He clenched his jaw. The air rushed up around him. His body was jerked violently upright and his legs swung back under him. His neck burned as the noose tightened and felt as if it were on the verge of breaking. His feet dangled only inches from the surface of the platform, but they were nowhere near close enough to support him.
CRRRR-SNAP!
Kelden’s vision blurred and darkened. He heard a loud thump and his head hit something solid. He gasped for breath, his whole body both numb and burning at the same time. He rolled over onto his side before he realized what had happened.
The beam over him had broken. He looked up to see one section over him. It looked as though the beam had been nearly entirely sawn through, with just a small section left intact. Kelden lifted his head and saw that the other half of the beam had come down atop the escort who had been on the platform with Kelden, splitting the top of his head open and laying him out on the wood.
A chorus of shouts erupted from the soldiers on the ground below.
Kelden gathered his feet under him and jumped up.
The other guard who had escorted him to the gallows was already running toward him.
Kelden leaned his shoulder forward and leapt at the other escort. The man let out a puff of air and lurched over Kelden’s back. Kelden then shot up with his head, connecting with the guard’s chin and rocking his head back. Before the disoriented man could recover, Kelden jumped up and lashed out with both legs. The two men fell to the platform with a terrible thud.
Shouting and cursing came from the crowd. Kelden knew he had to escape, but how? His legs were chained at the ankles. There was no way he could outrun the other soldiers. Still, he wasn’t about to go down without a fight. He rolled over, gathering his legs beneath himself again and stood. He shuffled, chains rattling fiercely, to the side of the platform and jumped down.
He hit the ground hard, barely managing to stay on his feet. A roar from behind him made him look up. One of the officers who had come to witness his execution had broken out from the group and was rushing toward him. He raised a sword and prepared to leap atop Kelden.
Just as he drew near, something poked through the man’s chest, spraying crimson blood out over the ground. A second later a hand yanked the guard back by the throat and dropped the lifeless body next to the platform.
