Numen the Slayer (Magnus Dynasty Saga Book 1)

by Grady P. Brown

  Savoring the meat Numen commented, “This is an ideal catch, Father. I can’t stop stuffing my face with it!”

  “Me neither!” Daena added.

  Turning his attention to Numen, Jacto asked, “So what was bothering you, Numen? You acted as though you seeing a ghost.”

  Knowing Viktor was watching him, Numen lied, “I . . . thought I heard someone calling me so I had to investigate in case we had an intruder.”

  Suddenly, before Jacto could ask further, a knock emitted from hall’s door, causing House Magnus to turn their attention to the threshold.

  “Enter!” Viktor ordered.

  The door opened to reveal a middle-aged woman dressed in a white robe and a silver helmet on top of her head. She was the household Sage and Viktor’s closest advisor, Aura.

  Aura bowed deeply and when she rose again, she announced, “My Lord, King Robar Baal is waiting at the gates.”

  A sense of uncertainty and dread washed over the room as the Magnus family digested Aura’s words.

  Unable to contain himself, Jacto asked, “Is this the madman who took the Umbran throne recently?”

  Viktor hushed Jacto and ordered, “All of you return to your chambers. Keep out of sight until the King leaves.”

  “Yes, Father,” Numen and his siblings replied before getting out of their seats and leaving the hall.

  Alone at last, Viktor looked at Aura and said, “Send His Majesty in.”

  Bowing curtly, Aura answered, “Yes, My Lord.”

  __ __ __

  When Numen and his siblings entered their personal chamber, they pondered on what was unfolding.

  Shaking her head with unease, Daena asked, “So why do you think the King of Umbran is doing here? Why didn’t he give us any warning of his arrival?”

  The question was like a foul smell in the room and an uncomfortable silence enveloped the group.

  Finally, Numen suggested, “It’s not like our family did anything significant recently. We have been keeping to ourselves and quietly managed our lands. Whatever the reason, the King’s presence is unsettling.”

  Shivering, Daena murmured, “I hear the King of Umbran is a madman and has been indulging in his family’s revolting ancestral practices. I am horrified that a man like that is about to enter our home.”

  Shaking his feverishly, Jacto said, “Let’s just hope he finishes his business with father and leaves.”

  Unable to contain himself any longer, Numen said, “You guys asked me what was bothering me earlier. In case we need to defend ourselves from the King, there is something I need to show you.”

  Confused, Daena asked, “What do you want to show us, Numen?”

  After pausing for a moment, Numen answered, “Our family’s true identity.”

  CHAPTER 4

  Numen and his siblings maneuvered their way through the castle, narrowly evading some of the King’s visiting guards. However, they noticed that some of the King’s men were approaching the Magnus garrison. Still, they put the uneasy thought away as they continued onward.

  “Where are we going, Brother?” Jacto whispered to Numen.

  “This way,” Numen softly instructed.

  Numen led his brother and sister to the door that led to the dark stairway. Once they were inside, Numen hastily closed the door behind them.

  When the perpetual darkness enveloped them, Daena exclaimed, “It’s pitch black! Why are we here?”

  Harshly, Numen ordered, “Keep quiet and follow closely.”

  After getting their bearings in the blackness, the Magnus siblings continued onward until Numen led them to their destination. Numen was amused by the gasps of astonishment Jacto and Daena made when they laid eyes on the skeletons on the floor and Gramfyre sticking out of the stone throne.

  Barely able to contain his excitement, Jacto asked, “That black blade . . . that gold and ivory hilt . . . is that what I think it is?”

  Nodding, Numen said, “Yes! The legendary Imperial Sword of Power, Gramfyre! We must hurry before the King’s men find us down here!”

  As Numen approached Gramfyre, a frightened Daena asked, “Why are there bones all over the place? Who are these people? I’m scared, Numen!”

  Impatiently, Numen said, “Those people have no Imperial blood in their veins so Gramfyre spurned them. This is the wrong time to be afraid. Unless we get the sword out of that throne, we will be defenseless if the King turns on us. Now stand clear.”

  With trembling hands, Numen reached for Gramfyre. Once more, Numen could her the sword’s feminine voice whispering in the dark corners of his mind. The moment Numen’s fingertips touched Gramfyre’s pommel, Numen gasped as a powerful torrent of invisible energy coursed through his veins. It was easily the most intoxicating sensation Numen had ever experienced. Eager to feel the power’s growing intensity, Numen grabbed Gramfyre’s ivory hilt with both hands and a strong whirlwind blew into the chamber as though summoned out of nowhere.

  A triumphant howl erupted from Numen’s throat as he embraced Gramfyre’s energy. However, Numen’s voice started to sound disembodied like another presence was lurking within him. Then, with all his strength, Numen slowly pulled Gramfyre out of the stone throne. Strangely, as Gramfyre’s black blade slid out of the towering rock, the chair began to bleed from where the sword’s blade was as though the stone was alive. Numen could hear Gramfyre’s voice louder than before. It was no longer a whispering that pestered his mind but the thunderous voice that wielded the weight and authority of a god. While Gramfyre spoke, the sword’s hilt felt as hot as molten steel in Numen’s hands. Numen was so overwhelmed by what was happening that he did not notice the fear and uncertainty that was etched into his sibling’s faces.

  Finally, Gramfyre was freed from the stone throne and Numen held it in both hands over his head, marveling at the sword’s regal beauty. What amazed Numen even more was how surprisingly light Gramfyre was. Numen lowered the sword and turned to face Jacto and Daena only to see them trembling when they laid eyes on him.

  Confused, Numen asked, “What’s wrong, guys?”

  Pointing at Numen’s face, Jacto answered, “Your eyes! They’re red!”

  Bewildered, Numen held up Gramfyre and looked at his own reflection on the blade. Numen froze when he saw his eyes glowing with blood-red light. As invigorating as Gramfyre’s power was, Numen was suddenly afraid that the sword was changing him. Part of Numen wanted to drop Gramfyre, but another part of him forced him to grip its hilt tightly.

  Her voice uneasy, Daena suggested, “It is as the legends say. Whenever someone of true Imperial blood wields Gramfyre, their eyes turn red as a symbol of their status. So it is true then. We are the true Imperial Dynasty!”

  Smiling with confidence, Numen held up Gramfyre and declared, “If the King and his men try any funny business, we have the power to spurn them away!”

  In unison, the Magnus siblings cheered, their voices echoing through the dim chamber . . .

  CHAPTER 5

  Viktor sat at his table and awaited the arrival of his important guest. Within moments, the great hall’s doors opened and King Robar Baal entered with two members of his royal guard. King Robar was a hideous young man in his early twenties with a hunchback, messy black hair, crooked mouth and nose, and large blue eyes that were as pale as death. In addition, Robar had strong arms and lanky legs. Upon his head was a crown that was made of black steel with a single ruby at the front. The King’s guards were clad in dark leather armor and semi-rusty chainmail, displaying no human emotion under their halfhelms. Viktor shivered at the sight of the King of Umbran and his men.

  Begrudgingly, Viktor rose from his seat and politely declared, “Welcome to Magnus Keep, Your Majesty.”

  His crooked mouth forming an eerie smile, Robar replied, “Thank you, Baron Magnus. I hope I am not disturbing anything important.”

  “Not at all. What can I do for you?”

  “I just came to congratulate you on your eldest son finally coming of age. Hard to b
elieve he is eighteen already. Also, I wanted to discuss politics with you. Is that all right?”

  “Certainly, Your Majesty. We have freshly cooked boar meat if you’re interested.”

  Licking his twisted lips with hungry anticipation, Robar gleefully claimed a seat at Viktor’s table and eagerly grabbed the closest piece of food. The King ate sickeningly, which made Viktor subtly cringe. For a while, the only sound that filled the great hall was Robar’s eating.

  Finally, Robar said, “There is something urgent that I must ask you.”

  “What is it, Your Majesty?”

  “I came across an interesting rumor and it concerns your family.”

  Robar’s words sent a deep chill down Viktor’s spine. What was the King implying?

  Uncertain about the situation, Viktor asked, “What rumor is that?”

  Robar’s smile became ever more sinister as he replied, “That your family is the true Imperial Family and you have been planning for generations to usurp the Sylva Dynasty.”

  At that moment, Viktor felt a dagger thrust into his soul like an icy storm. House Baal was one of House Sylva’s most loyal supporters. The fact that Robar figured out his family’s true identity meant only one thing.

  Gulping hard, Viktor asked, “That’s ridiculous! How did you come across such an outrageous rumor?”

  In response, Robar clapped his hands and another of his guards entered the hall carrying a bloodied and beaten man. The guard pushed the man in front of Viktor and left the room. Even though the man’s face was bruised and mutilated, Viktor recognized him as one of his servants.

  His smile seething with arrogance, Robar explained, “This wretch was part of your household. He and another servant found a very strange sword under your castle. He claimed that the sword killed his friend the moment he touched it. After this whelp escaped, he then told his family who in turn spread the rumor to their village. In that village was one of my spies. My spy captured this whelp and beat the truth out of him, but he never changed his story. The sword he described had a black blade and a gold and ivory hilt. Only one sword matches that description: Gramfyre, the Imperial Sword of Power.

  The fact that your family has the Sword of Power can mean only one thing; that you are the true Imperial bloodline. Now, I am here to rid the Empire of you and your wretched family. The Sylva Dynasty will reward me handsomely when they hear that I got rid of the threat to their rule.”

  Then Robar’s guards drew their swords and pointed them at Viktor.

  Rising from his seat, Robar declared, “In the name of the Sylva Dynasty, I, Robar of House Baal, King of Umbran, place you under arrest!”

  At that moment, Viktor heard the castle’s alarm horns sounding and men yelling. Out of the window, Viktor could see some of the buildings catch fire. He jerked his gaze from the window to Robar as though seeking an explanation.

  Robar emitted a giddy chuckle as he said, “I had some of my men kill your guards and hijack the gate. Over six hundred men are pouring in to wipe out your bloodline. I win!”

  CHAPTER 6

  Fear and confusion consumed Numen and his siblings when they heard the chaos that was happening outside. Their blood ran cold in their veins and their imaginations ran wild with nightmarish visions.

  In disbelief, Daena gasped, “What’s happening up there?”

  With shaking hands, Numen said, “I don’t know, but we have to get out of here now!”

  Suddenly, two of the king’s men charged into the chamber armed with crossbows and fired their weapons at Jacto and Daena. The bolts impaled Jacto through his head and Daena through her throat. Numen’s siblings were dead before they hit the ground.

  Everything was happening so fast that Numen did not know how to react to the situation. His siblings were mercilessly slain before his eyes and he was powerless to save them even with Gramfyre in his hands. An infinitely cold void formed in the center of Numen’s heart that threatened to swallow up his soul.

  Once Jacto and Daena hit the ground, the two intruders dropped their crossbows and drew their swords. The men pointed their blades at Numen with menacing intent. They eyed Gramfyre with hungry gazes.

  “Give us the sword, Lad!” one of the soldiers ordered sharply.

  Without warning, the glyphs on Gramfyre’s black blade flashed red and Numen could feel something primal awaken in his core. The blood in his veins burned like liquid fire while his muscles flexed so hard that they threatened to become as hard as stone. Numen could feel his mind melt away as all-consuming, beastly rage replaced all other emotions like a turbulent torrent. Gramfyre’s feminine voice transformed into a ferocious scream that resembled a vengeful spirit.

  Losing complete control over himself, Numen sprinted against the guards, who swung their swords at him. With Gramfyre in hand, Numen swung against his foes and snapped the blades of both their weapons as though they were made of glass. Desperate to regain control of the situation, the guards frantically reached for their daggers. Emitting a scream that sounded more like that of a beast than a man, Numen savagely struck them down with two quick swings. Two geysers of blood erupted from the guards’ cleaved chests and sprayed all over Numen’s face and chest.

  After the guards’ corpses hit the ground, Numen returned to his senses as though from a trance. Numen looked from the sword in his hand and was shocked about what he had done. For a brief moment, he felt his identity disintegrate and be replaced with something raw and untamed.

  Astonished, Numen murmured, “How did I do that? Is this the true strength of the Sword of Power?”

  Suddenly, Numen felt tired and his knees buckled. His breathing became haggard and his vision blurred. Confusion was clinging Numen’s psyche like a disease.

  Softly, Numen murmured, “What is happening to me?”

  Forcing himself to stay conscious, Numen’s attention returned to the bodies of his siblings. Butchering the guards, his home being sacked, and seeing his family murdered was far more than Numen could bear. Numen’s legs were shaking so much that he was afraid that he would collapse from the shock. He felt his emotions on the verge of boiling over and Numen barely managed to keep them in check.

  Then Numen could hear more of the king’s guards approaching down the hall. Desperate, Numen ran to the far corner of the room, ready to make his last stand. However, Numen felt a strong breeze coming from the wall behind him. His curiosity intensifying, Numen felt the wall with his left hand, not taking his eyes off the stairway.

  Finally, Numen felt a small, rectangular hole in the stone wall that emitted a gust of air. Plunging his fingers into the hole, Numen heard a loud click and the wall behind him swung open. Behind the wall was a dark passageway that did not seem to end.

  Shrugging, Numen murmured, “The stone masons must have installed this as an escape route incase this place caved in.”

  The shouts of the king’s men grew louder from the stairway and Numen knew he was out of time. With Gramfyre in hand, Numen entered the concealed hole, but before he closed it behind him he caught on last look at the bodies of his brother and sister.

  With volatile emotions churning through his psyche, Numen vowed, “Robar Baal will die for this!”

  After those words, Numen closed the door, leaving a chamber full of corpses behind him . . .

  __ __ __

  The darkness inside the passageway was so intense that Numen had to feel his way along the walls. Only his breathing could be heard in the perpetual blackness. A sense of claustrophobia enveloped Numen as he clawed his way towards the other side of the tunnel.

  Not disguising the venom in his words, Numen’s voice echoed as he whispered, “The so-called King has sacked and burned my home and murdered my family and friends! We all heard the rumors of what he does during his free time! I am completely ashamed of abandoning them to such a fate! May the Gods have mercy on my soul!”

  A quiet moment of tension filled the tunnel as Numen pushed forward through the blinding darkness. In such a desperate si
tuation, Numen knew he had to find protection from the king and his allies.

  Numen paused for a moment before murmuring, “My only option is to go to my kinsmen, House Letum, and find sanctuary. They have one of the largest armies in Umbran and strong connection with the other baronies.”

  Then a faint light appeared at the end of the dark tunnel and Numen’s sense of despair disappeared. When Numen approached the source of the light, he pushed against a large stone, causing the light to expand. Eventually, the stone revealed the depths of a forest.

  Relieved to finally be free of the consuming darkness of the tunnel, Numen emerged hastily. However, once outside, he was greeted by a horrendous sight on the other side of the hill. Magnus Keep was set ablaze with its proud banners, a gold phoenix on a black field, burning along the battlements. Numen stood for a while, burning the sight forever in his memory. A strong sense of uncompromising hatred and determination enveloped his soul like a disease.

  Numen bitterly vowed, “In the name of all the Gods, I will avenge our honor in this life or the next!”

  Then Numen turned and fled into the woods, eager to escape his sinister enemies . . .

  CHAPTER 7

  Viktor was dragged out of his own castle by Robar’s men, watching helplessly as his home burned around him. He constantly thought of his children and if Robar’s men found them. His soul screamed in agony as he digested what he had lost at the hands of the king.

  Eventually, Viktor found himself on his knees outside of his burning fortress with King Robar looming in front of him. Viktor’s heart sank when he saw Aura naked, bloodied, and beaten on her knees next to him. Robar glared at the pair with a sinister smile stretching his twisted mouth.