“Nikali does not die at Myrus,” said Abigail.
“What does that mean?”
“It means he has to continue if we are to win,” said Abigail.
“Is he going to attack Myrus?” Odessa asked.
Abigail looked away from Odessa without a word.
“What can we do?” Odessa asked.
“We need to be kind,” said Abigail. “We need to help the people here, and be there for them in the coming days. Myrus will be hurt.”
While Seres was busy, Ellen was able to sneak out of the Senate House with ease. Even if she didn’t have her own personal exit, the newest residents filled the halls with chaos. There were so many people occupying the Senate House now that the guards could not keep track of all of them coming and going.
All of the topia pies were gone. Ellen had gone through them quickly, and she had never felt better. Her only worry was that the woman was no longer at the location they had originally met. She hurried through the streets. The sun was high in the sky. The streets were mostly clear except for the occasional body of a passed out vagabond.
Vendors were beginning to prepare their counters for the afternoon rush. Ellen kept her head down. She didn’t want to be distracted by any of the eager workers looking to make an easy sale.
It didn’t take long for Ellen to make a direct line to the spot where she found the topia pies. She looked up and to her joy the booth was still there, and sitting behind the counter was the pale woman with dark red lips.
“Hello, again,” said Mareen to Ellen.
“Do you have any more pies?” Ellen asked eagerly.
Mareen smiled. “I do.”
“Good,” said Ellen. “I’ll take them all.”
“Will that be all?” asked the Blood Beauty.
“Is there more?” Ellen asked.
The Blood Beauty smiled wider. “I have more delicious stuff. If you’re interested. It’ll give you more power.”
Ellen’s heart began to race faster. More power. Her thoughts began to swirl again. They needed Abigail because of her power. If Ellen had power then they wouldn’t need Abigail. One less person to make happy.
“I can show you,” said the Blood Beauty. “I can show you more. I can show you how to use it.”
Ellen nodded her head without even realizing it. “Yes,” she said. “Show me. I want it all. I want to be powerful.” She kept nodding her head as she spoke. And every word sang out of her lips to the Blood Beauties gracious ear.
Chapter 52
The Senate House soon became a mix of Abigail’s followers and several dozen refugees from the Capitol. They were people that had fled to Myrus from Nikali’s reign in the hopes that Myrus could offer them a new start. There were still plenty of jobs available. Seres’ ambition did not end when he turned his back on Nikali. He was going to rebuild Myrus into the new heart of Eluan even against the Capitol’s wishes, and now he was backed by Darden’s small fortune.
Everyday a new room was cleared out and it was filled just as quickly. The word was beginning to spread that Abigail was offering food and relief from people’s pain and troubles. The helpful doctors worked around the clock tending to anybody that asked for aid.
Unfortunately, Abigail did not interact with her followers like she used to. Stories were told of Abigail herself healing many of her original followers. That was no longer the case.
“Maybe you need something more powerful?” Odessa suggested to Abigail one day while they were alone. They were in Abigail’s room in the top floor of the Senate House. They spoke softly so others could not hear their conversation, but the chatter throughout the halls blocked out most conversations regardless.
“It’s not about power,” said Abigail.
“Are you sure?” pressed Odessa. “I hear Nikali has much more potent Tamor Blood. That could be what is giving him the power he has.”
“No,” said Abigail. “I don’t think so. This isn’t about raw power. This is about something else. Before, I wasn’t drinking anything stronger. It was the usual Tamor Blood you can find at any tavern. It was something I knew. I could utilize my arcan in a trained sense, not just on instinct.”
“My parents told me stories about Prial. They said there were people there that could do amazing things, more than just move objects with their powers. They could calm riots, they could heal the sick, and rebuild the world. I think you know how to do that. Somehow you tapped into it before. We have to do that again.”
“It’s just flashes of memory,” said Abigail. “More of a feeling now. There was something familiar about what I was doing, like I had done it as a child. But my childhood before Eluan is blacked out, again. I don’t remember anything before Alexus.”
“Then there is something there,” said Odessa. “It’s like being a trained fighter. My parents began training me as soon as I could walk. The fundamentals are instinct to me now. I think it is the same with you, only you were taken off the path. There are fundamental instincts in you, but they are covered up by years of repression and guilt. We have to uncover that and get your memories back.”
“I’ve tried,” said Abigail. “I think about it every day. I try to bring those memories out, but they are stuck. It’s just the same bits and pieces I always see. There is more. I can feel it, but they are not coming.”
“You can’t force it,” said Odessa. “At least not like that. Do you remember what triggered it the last time? What opened up those memories?”
Abigail thought back to the night of the fall of Tcher. She struggled to carry Heric through the fires spreading across the island. The door was up ahead. Heric was determined to get to it. The door sent a chill down Abigail’s spine. She knew it was the work of Nikali. His power was growing more dangerous by the day. Heric was reaching for his bottle of Tamor Blood. Abigail knew he was in no condition to use arcan. But she could. She had used it before. She believed she could figure out how the door worked. Then she took a drink. It was the strongest Tamor Blood she had ever tasted.
“It was power,” said Abigail, wide eyed with a revelation. Her mouth began to salivate thinking back about the drink she had in her hand once. The sweet taste of Nikali’s Tamor Blood ached in her thoughts. “I drank some of Nikali’s concoction. That’s when things get fuzzy.”
“What made his drink different?” Odessa asked.
“It was stronger. Much stronger,” said Abigail. “It didn’t taste like anything I had ever had before. It tasted like iron. There was the hint of the berry flavor you get with the usual Tamor Blood, but just a hint. It tasted… it tasted like blood.”
“Nikali is drinking blood?” Odessa asked.
“The avadons,” said Abigail. Suddenly things were clicking into place for her. “In Hilldad, Nikali ate an avadon’s heart. Back at the crossing, Heric dragged an avadon’s body into the group while they were being attack. Then Nikali ended the fight with his arcan. The avadon’s blood is giving us more powerful arcan. It’s what opened up the flood of memories. We’re both right. The mix of a more powerful drink plus my knowledge of how to use arcan made me incredibly powerful.”
“Okay,” said Odessa. “Where do we go from here? How many avadons are left? Can we hunt them down?”
“It’s too dangerous to hunt down the remaining avadons,” said Abigail. “Aldrin and his Elite were no match. Nikali and his legion barely survived their encounter with them. We don’t stand a chance.”
“Then how do we get avadon blood?” Odessa asked.
“There has to be another way,” suggested Abigail. “I can unlocked my memories another way.”
“And how long will that take?” asked Odessa. “Seres expects you to perform miracles for Myrus. The shelter is buying time, but eventually it won’t be enough.”
“I will find a way,” said Abigail. “Maybe a more powerful Tamor Blood. Maybe I can remember on my own. We don’t need to hunt down an avadon.”
“I hope you are right,” said Odessa. “Because I can feel it.
War is coming.”
Chapter 53
Nikali sulked on the Eluan throne. The room was silent. Every breath Nikali took sounded like a roar. His heartbeat thundered in his chest.
Marina was gone. She had simply vanished. Nikali could not sense her. She was somehow blocking her from his arcan like Farrah was doing across the empire in Myrus.
All of the power available to Nikali and he was still coming up short. His enemies were still besting him no matter what Nikali accomplished. The past year’s events played through his mind and then replayed when he was done. Nikali went through every angle, every decision made. He thought about how things would be different if he had not left the Capitol undefended against Tcher. He thought about if Heric had not brought him back into the fold. Or if Nikali took command against Heric when he had the chance on the beach. What if Heric had not done the dive?
Every decision led Nikali to the throne, defeated and alone. Nikali’s heart began to beat faster. Sweat dripped down his face as he could feel himself overheating.
How had Marina bested him? She had never performed any arcan before. Or had she? Heric and Nikali only knew what Alexus had told them about Marina and the rest of the Arraws in Louson. Nikali already knew not to trust them, but the Lousons were skittish around arcan. So what was Marina?
Nikali screamed.
He howled his anger and frustration out into the world.
Nikali was trying to help. The Royal Council was worthless to help Eluan. Farrah was not who she claimed to be. Nikali knew it. Nikali was the only power he could trust. It was the only way. If Farrah was as noble as everybody claimed she would have come to the Capitol not to Myrus. Not to the enemies. She should have pledged her allegiance to Nikali. To Charos.
“Why am I not strong enough?” Nikali asked himself. “What do I have to do to gain respect from you people? Do I have to burn this entire city to the ground?”
As Nikali spoke he moved around in the throne. He rocked in circles mumbling to himself.
“A fire would be nice. I could cook. Maybe I’ll have somebody cook up a pig. People love pigs. Nobody would complain about a cooked pig. Oh no. There would be somebody. Somebody would walk in and demand to know why I was cooking a pig in the throne room like I don’t have the right to do that as Emperor!”
A small fire erupted in the corner of the throne room. The stone floor turned to ash as it was consumed by the fire that Nikali was producing with his arcan.
“I’m the emperor. I am. It always should have been me. You were born too late. Who cares? They care. They didn’t care. Uncle Cyrus never cared. Everything goes to Heric. Heric was always the good one. Faster. Stronger. Everybody loves Heric. Heric learned to sword fight! Heric learned a new language. I speak multiple languages. Heric made a boat! I made a boat. Hey, look at Heric win the day. Oh, look, Heric is bringing peace. Yay!”
Nikali’s rant began to rile him up. His motions grew more extreme the more he rambled on. Another small fire had formed in another corner of the room. Then Nikali could no longer keep his balance and he fell over the armrest of the throne and crashed onto the ground.
“Ow,” said Nikali. He looked up onto the ceiling of the throne room as if looking at it for the first time. The paintings on the ceiling were the most beautiful thing Nikali had laid eyes on. The artwork was done centuries ago, depicting several ages of Eluan. It started from the first fort that protected the founding fathers from the wildmen that roamed the lands. That building became the first Eluan Capitol building. From there the city began to grow. The city always centered around the Capitol eventually adopting the nickname of the Capitol.
There were several different paintings of the Capitol palace as it grew and expanded. There was once a bird sanctuary at the highest tower of the palace. Abigail always liked those birds.
“I got you that little statue of the bluehorn,” said Nikali to Abigail, absentmindedly. “Your eyes lit up. Like it compared with all those things Alexus brought you from his trips. We used to spend so many days together. What happened?”
Nikali could start to feel the heat from the fires he was unknowingly starting. Five fires were spread out across the room. They were beginning to grow on their own, reaching the drapes that hung along the walls.
“Heric,” said Nikali. He sat up on the floor. Immediately, the fires were suffocated and became nothing but ash and smoke.
“I can feel it,” said Nikali. He looked at his hands. Then he touched his face. He felt every inch of his head and moved down to the rest of his body. “I can feel everything. Every tingle. Every hair.”
Then Nikali rolled over and put his stomach to the floor. He rested his cheek against the cold stone floor.
“Yes!” cried Nikali. “Yes! It’s all here. The whole palace is mine. I can feel it all. Yes!”
Nikali jumped to his feet. He stumbled several times as he made his way to the hallway outside of the throne room. He burst through the door and crashed into the adjacent wall.
His arcan was rushing through him like never before. The floodgates were opened. Whatever was holding him back was over. This was the most powerful Nikali had ever felt. He felt good.
Nikali had to get to Heric. That was the entire reason he was in the state he was. Everything was to save Heric.
The living quarters were a ways away from the throne room. Every step Nikali took was a challenge. Every step was either a stomp to affirm his footing or light skipping as he tried to keep his balance on the move. The only problem was the people.
The path to Heric’s quarters was wrought with workers and servants in every nook and cranny of the palace. Despite the chaos that erupted earlier the palace could not stop its day to day operations and people had to work. Much to Nikali’s disapproval.
A young servant boy approached Nikali. “Are you alright, My Emperor?” the boy asked.
Nikali spun around and stared at the boy with wide eyes. He shot down to the floor and grabbed the boy by the shoulders. They stared at each other for a moment. Nikali smiled at the young servant with all of his teeth.
“Did you help her escape?” Nikali asked the servant. “Did you?”
The young boy shook his head. He was growing scared, but could not break free of Nikali’s grasp. “No, sir.”
“Then why didn’t you stop it?” Nikali asked.
“I don’t know, sir,” answered the boy.
Those were the boy’s last words. His body went limp in Nikali’s hands.
Nikali looked up at the rest of the people walking around the palace hallways. They had not noticed the boy’s death. Nikali’s eyes darted from one person to the other.
They were all afraid.
They were all afraid of Nikali.
Nikali dropped the boy’s body to the ground with little regard. He got to his feet and began to walk towards the next group of people closest to him.
“Only my enemies fear me,” mumbled Nikali. He brushed up into a cluster of servants. With just a glancing touch the servants fell to the ground dead. Nikali did not have to stop walking.
The muffled sound of bodies collapsing to the floor finally drew the attention of the people in the area. They turned to see a trail of death behind the approaching Nikali. There was no blood. There were no screams. Nobody ran right away.
They watched as Nikali got closer to another group of servants. One by one each one of them fell as Nikali passed them. His mere presence brought death to those around him.
Then the panic started. Screams filled the palace as the dead began to pile up and the trail of bodies was found by others going about their day. The servants that were smart enough began to run for their lives. There was only one direction to go: away from Nikali.
Servants, senators, the royal class, the general public, all rushed out of the palace as fast as they could as the news began to spread. Nikali was wandering through the hallways killing anybody that he came near. They could hear Nikali shouting throughout the palace.
“Ho
w many of you are there?! Fear me! You tried to kill me! You live in my home and you try to kill me?! No! I kill you! I will find her! I will find every last one of you, and I will bring you to justice! I am Charos!”
By the time the palace was empty over a hundred people had dropped dead to Nikali’s power. Their bodies littered the palace from one end of the building to the other.
Finally, Nikali arrived at Heric’s quarters. He was breathing heavily. His steps were no longer erratic. He was slowing down.
Inside Heric’s quarters, Alma was standing tall, waiting for Nikali. The rest of the nurses had already retreated to safer ground. Alma stood in front of the doorway to Heric’s room. She did not budge as Nikali approached her.
“Move,” said Nikali.
“Heric is doing worse than ever,” said Alma. “You are killing him.”
“Move,” repeated Nikali.
“No,” said Alma. “I will not let you come near him. How many are dead now?”
“Move or I will do the same to you,” threatened Nikali. He sensed Alma’s emotions. She was not afraid of Nikali.
It almost made Nikali proud.
“Move!” Nikali shouted.
Alma stood her ground for only a moment longer. She looked away from Nikali and stepped aside. “Do not hurt him,” she said.
“That has never been my intention,” said Nikali.
He slammed the door behind him. He was once again alone with his cousin.
Nikali staggered over to Heric’s bed. He was feeling heavier by the second. “They will write sonnets of me. They will recall the time that I brought Heric Caning back to life. I will be the savior of their savior.”
Nikali put one hand on Heric’s face and the other on Heric’s chest. He reached into Heric’s mind with his arcan.
Then Nikali collapsed.
He was out of power.
Nikali slumped over Heric’s chest. His head bobbed up and down with Heric’s steady breathing. Too exhausted to move, Nikali listened to Heric’s soothing heartbeat. There was nothing left he could do.
Eluan Falls: A Whisper of Fate Page 26
