by J. B. Jenn
Barend rose from bed. There were things to do. Already, the demons, once soldiers were breaking through the Desert border. That was the only good thing about what was happening to him lately. He was able to see where the demons were without actually being there. Somehow, he was connected to them.
He glanced at the globe again, wondering what was happening to him. More and more, it seemed like a struggle to maintain the person he was. It was why he had wanted De’Nae to leave. He’d had such a strong urge to kill her, and he was afraid he’d actually carry it out.
He wandered the palace, looking at the servants who were still human. There were only a few of them left. Verite had urged him to turn them as well, saying they’d serve him more faithfully. He had resisted. He still resisted. There were too many demons around him as it was. He wanted something normal around him, even if they refused to look at him, hanging their heads down in fear.
Disappointment shined in his dark eyes. Yes, he wanted unity for Hartland, but how had it come to this? He didn’t understand. Surely, there had been another way to achieve what they wanted. He knew it was too late now for any other plan. No one would listen to him now. He would forever be a monster in their eyes.
“Your Majesty?” he heard one of his surviving advisors say behind him. His voice warbled with fear.
Barend sucked in a deep breath and turned toward the man, wondering what he wanted now. Most of them spoke against his plans. It was why they were now demons, though few had survived the process. At least, it had kept the others quiet.
“What is it?” he asked, narrowing his eyes, expecting him to criticize everything he had done. None of them could see it was for the good of Hartland. They refused to see it.
The man swallowed hard. “Your Majesty, we’ve received reports on Yul starting to mobilize an army.”
Barend barked out a laugh. “Those pathetic wimps wish to fight me?” He laughed again. “Oh, this is just too good! What do they expect to do against us?”
“I don’t think you understand the entire situation, your Majesty.”
“What’s there not to understand? Those men value the book over the sword. There is nothing they can do against me and my demon army.”
“Whereas I would normally agree, your Majesty, there is some troubling news about it.” The man paused, waiting for permission to continue. Barend waved his hand impatiently. “They have a man among them who is from Cascade. A man who survived the destruction of Kenokel.”
“And?” Barend asked, stomping at the man’s silence.
“His name is Lord Osrin Gorjin. He’s a legendary swordsman, though he’s an old man now. His views on battle are unprecedented. He served King Delane Stone for fifty years.”
The smug smirk fell from his face. For several moments, he stood there, eyeing the man. “Send units down to the border.” Barend fell silent again. The look in his eyes darkened. “Apparently, we’re going to have to fight this war on two fronts. At least we’ll only have to worry about the Desert and Yul. Urian destroyed Cascade and weakened the Desert. King Flynn and King Sabin are on our side. King Adair will do nothing down in his precious Drakal, valuing his precious peace. We’ll still win this easily.”
“Do you know something I don’t, your Majesty?” the man asked, licking his lips in fear. “From where I stand, this isn’t good.”
“Of course I know something you don’t. I am KING,” Barend snapped.
The man bowed and left. Barend turned from him, taking in a deep breath, flaring his nostrils. As he stepped into the once vibrant garden, he found most of the trees and flowers had died. Carthoda was becoming a wasteland. It was something he was going to have to deal with once this was all over. Once he rid the land of the demons, things would start growing again. He refused to rule over a land filled with such vile creatures. They were only a means to an end.
Korick
He hadn’t gotten far on his way to the North Gardens Palace before he was forced to hide. He had heard them coming, long before he saw them. After fighting them at the border, he knew he wouldn’t likely forget what they sounded like. Hissing. Deep throaty noises. Bone chilling whispering.
To have them so far in the Desert was troubling. More than that, it meant they were going to murder entire villages. There was little he could do. He was just one person, but he felt as if he should do something for them.
Taking in a deep breath, he told himself to focus. Korick forced himself out of his hiding spot and continued toward the palace. There was nothing he could do, except die and take the information to the grave. Korick sucked in a deep breath, praying to the Old Gods to see him through this. He also gave a prayer for the people he couldn’t help. Just in case, he said a quick prayer to the new God.
Just as he thought he’d gotten away, he heard a slithering sound behind him, followed by a deep hissing. His heart jolted to a stop for a moment before pounding so hard and fast he could feel it in his throat. Korick spun around with his shortsword in hand. The monster had expected it and flung a heavy hand, knocking the sword from Korick’s hand. The young man looked between the sword and the monster. He inched back, uncertain what he was going to do.
“Please,” Korick whispered. “Please, just let me go. You don’t need me.”
The monster studied him, wearing what Korick guessed was an amused smile. It was difficult to tell with the small horns outlining most of its black lips. The creature’s glowing green eyes flickered to orange. The demon’s hesitation gave him a chance to think of something. Anything would work, but his fear made it impossible to think.
Once again, his gaze flickered to his sword lying several feet to his right. The moment he took a sideways step toward it, the demon’s eyes flashed angrily. He hissed and launched toward him. Korick found himself in a steady roll, allowing his training to take over. He hoped he could reach his sword in time. As his hand enclosed around the simple hilt, he felt a sudden weight on his back, forcing him down. Sand filled his mouth.
Korick thrashed. The demon’s grip was strong, even more so when his long, thick nails dug into each of his shoulders. He cried out, but refused to give into the monster. He couldn’t fail, not with what was at stake. He swore he’d make it to the king.
The hilt of his dagger dug into his waist, reminding him it was there. His hand wrapped around it and he thrust the blade over his shoulder. When the demon howled and pulled away, he felt the devastating, most agonizing pain he had ever felt. A burning sensation ran all along his shoulder and down the right side of his back. With each passing moment, the pain intensified.
The demon was still alive. Korick pushed through the pain and spun to meet the monster, clutching his sword. The creature snarled a laugh. Hundreds of horns appeared from every inch of his black and red body. A glowing orange goo seeped from them.
From the fighting at the border, he knew demon’s blood burned humans. He knew it was what had happened to his shoulder and back. The orange ooze, however, was new. All he knew was he didn’t want to get too close to it. There was only one option he could see and he didn’t like it.
The demon lurched toward him, revealing he had a second set of arms. Korick’s heart thundered to a stop. There was no way he could deal with this. Taking in a deep breath to steady himself, he threw his sword and hoped for the best.
With horror, he watched the demon start to sidestep it. Fortunately, it was too slow to avoid all of it. The blade sunk into its side. It must have hit something vital as the creature’s scream ended abruptly. Korick watched the demon disappear in a cloud of smoke.
Although he had survived, he had a dreadful feeling the town hadn’t. He knew he needed to check the town where the demon had come from. It was dangerous. If what he thought was happening was indeed happening, King Maik needed to know about it.
Korick limped through the sand, thankful it absorbed the sound of his heavy footfall. At some point during the fight, he had turned his ankle. He held his arm close to his side, trying to move it as l
ittle as possible. He had been quick to discover, moving it sent blinding pain through his neck and into his back. He had nearly lost consciousness the first time.
Screams sounded from within the town. He pressed himself up against the side of a building. From there, he listened to the crying and horrified sounds all around him. Glancing around the side of the building, took his breath away. A woman was going through some kind of grotesque transformation.
Korick pressed himself against the building again. He didn’t have to watch the entire process to know what was happening. Parts of the woman’s body was changing shape.
As he stood there, he wished he had a bow, so he could end the woman’s suffering. The best he could do was escape with his life and tell the king what had happened to Nalman.
Galtrand
He knew his home was destroyed. All the reports had said so. Despite knowing, he hadn’t been emotionally prepared to view it. Seeing Kenokel in ruins was heart wrenching. He was relieved Janessa had never returned home.
Galtrand stopped at the top of a hill and scrutinized the ruined buildings and burnt trees. The smell of death lingered in the air. This was a place he had once proudly called home. Tears welled in his eyes.
If Janessa had lived to see this, it would have broken her heart. He shook his head in anger. He shouldn’t be thinking about her. Maybe once he spread her ashes throughout the city, it would be easier to say goodbye. For a moment, he closed his eyes and allowed tears to slide down his gaunt cheeks.
Once he collected himself, Galtrand continued down the hill. He needed to see his home, or the remains of it. He walked, careful where he placed his feet, among the remnants of the once great city. As he walked past the palace, he saw the walls around it had crumbled. His eyes located the tower where King Delane and his wytches stood during the fight. It was completely destroyed. Studying it now, he wasn’t certain how King Delane or any of them had survived.
His home sat on the northern edge of the town, further from the forest. The once vast forest had only a few trees left standing tall and untouched. They were ancient trees and were fortunate to have survived. It would take centuries for the forest to grow again.
He stepped around destroyed pieces of buildings lying haphazardly in the paved streets. In several places, the stone was shattered and stood in jagged pieces. The closer he drew to his home, the slower he walked.
Galtrand hesitated just outside of it. He didn’t want to enter. It was bad enough he had to see most of it lying in pieces. Taking in a deep breath, Galtrand forced himself inside. Just seconds later, he hurried out of it, pale. His legs wobbled. He gave into them and sat hard on the ground. He stared at the ruins unable to weep. All he could do was stare.
It was one thing to know one’s family was dead. It was quite another to enter what was once your home and see their rotting corpses. His father was lying face down in his own dried blood. It looked as if he’d been trying to protect his daughter. His body was slumped over hers. His sister’s eyes were wide open, indicating a quick death. His mother wasn’t anywhere to be seen, but he was certain she was somewhere within the rubble.
He continued to sit there, feeling as if agreeing to come back had been a terrible mistake. He knew he should be crying. His heart was broken, but all he could do was sit there and stare. He couldn’t form words. He couldn’t move. He looked without seeing.
“That isn’t going to help anything,” he heard the soft voice of a woman say.
He looked over at her, scowling. Galtrand rose, planning to walk away. All he wanted was to be alone. Her rough hand grabbed his shoulder and pulled him back.
“Are you mute or just rude?” she asked, tilting her filthy head to the side.
“Leave me be,” Galtrand demanded. When she stood her ground, staring at him, he growled. “This was my home. The people inside of it were my family. I need time!”
The woman, with ratty red hair, looked about the ruined town. Her eyes came to rest on the house. For a brief moment, sadness flickered through them.
“You can either lose yourself in grief or join others and help start rebuilding. The choice is yours. It’s better for the heart and mind to keep busy and not focus on what happened and could have been.”
Galtrand stared at her for several moments. King Trester had sent him here to start gathering people and to assess the damage. The new king had also sent him to train the people who could fight. Trester wanted to call on them when the time came to meet King Barend head on. Galtrand found himself curious she would present herself in his time of need.
“How many of you are there?”
She grinned at him and grabbed his hand, pulling at him until he followed. They hurried through the ruins. They climbed over rubble and ducked under pieces of wall caught by nearby buildings.
She stopped just a little outside of town.
Galtrand stared at the group of people. He watched them sort through material and lift heavy stone together. There was a team of horses nearby and a wooden cart. It was more than what he could hope for. As he stood there, at a loss for words, he heard the squeaking wheels of another wooden cart coming toward them. Debris filled it.
The men who had been with the cart went to work unloading it. Sweat dripped from their flushed faces. Behind the cart, came a group of three horses pulling away heavier and bulkier pieces. The pieces used to belong to glorious buildings. Peoples’ homes. Peoples’ businesses.
As Galtrand took in everything, he realized there was another group further from them. They were working on building a house using rubble, fitting them together with mud and clay. He couldn’t help but smile at the good fortune he had found here.
“Isn’t this much better than sitting there, unable to process everything you saw?” the redhead asked him. Her voice was soft, understanding even.
Galtrand met her blue eyes. “Yes, it is,” he whispered.
Querra
She had left Eiden with the rest of the Relentless over a week ago. Once she had left Eiden’s side, she realized she had no idea where to start looking, so she had gone to Kenokel. She hadn’t thought they’d be within the city still. It was more of a hope than anything else. She needed to know more about them. She needed to know if they were an enemy or someone they could count on should the worst present itself.
Even though, they had saved her and Eiden’s life, she wasn’t certain about them. They were so mysterious. She might not have been so concerned if the Tharroh hadn’t grieved for the demons who were killed. It was the part which worried her the most.
After searching parts of the city, she had left. Just two days outside of Kenokel, she had seen a lone man in the distance. From his gait, she had guessed he was a soldier. He carried himself with pride, despite the deep sorrow in his eyes. As she had studied him, she thought she recognized him. She guessed he was one of the royal guard. It was why she had followed him back to the city, careful to remain hidden.
She didn’t want him to know about her presence. If he was a member of the old royal guard, he could know who she was and tell her nothing. Over the last few days, she wondered if someone in the royal family had sent him back.
She had followed him as he ventured through the city during his time here. She wanted him to tell her why he was here without knowing he had. She wanted some kind of advantage over him.
Stepping forward, she stepped on a small branch. The crack it sent off made her give a silent curse and duck down. She watched him through the crack of a crumbling wall. His pale blue eyes looked about, scanning what was left of the forest. He shook his head and continued.
Sadness captured his face again. He had lost loved ones, like most had. Coming here had only reminded him of it. Querra knew she was fortunate to not have lost anyone in the destruction of the city. She was an orphan and had lived on the streets for years. She had made her own way in life, following her instinct. An early lesson had taught her to trust in herself. The only person she had was Eiden, and she kept him at a distan
ce, too.
The process of rebuilding the once sprawling city was further along than she had thought. There were already a few buildings built and one of the damaged roads was almost cleared away. The people of Cascade were hard workers, doing what was necessary. Pride filled her. This was where she belonged. She was a Cascadian. There wasn’t another place she could think of as home. This was it.
The man entered one of the buildings. Querra remained where she was. She would have to shadow him for a few more days to discover who the man was and what his intentions were. She wanted to ask him, but she was afraid of the answer. Cascade was, as far as she was concerned, still hers. She had protected it and its people from the demons. She had sent people off to their deaths to do the same. She refused to allow some king or queen to take credit for what the Relentless had done.
Querra sighed, telling herself she should be paranoid. The people knew what she had done. The people knew royalty hadn’t lifted a finger to help them. She looked toward the closed door again.
“You’ll tell me who you are before too long,” she whispered. “And then, we’ll talk.”
Trester
He had spent days in the library of the North Gardens Palace. When he had first entered it, he found himself impressed. The library was vast and contained many older records. He had never imagined the Desert would have such knowledge at their fingertips. Trester wondered how long and how much it had cost to obtain the library.
After seeing it, he had studied the people, realizing most of them were educated. If he had only listened to the people of Cascade, he would think them dumb. It was clear Cascade had thought little of their northern people. They had judged them without knowing who they truly were. He wondered what his father had thought about them.
As he stood there, staring at all the books, he wondered what the other kingdoms thought of each kingdom. It was clear Hartland was divided. There was little communication between the kingdoms. If people would give him a chance as their king, he could implement a plan to better the entirety of Hartland. With communication open between kingdoms, perhaps something like this would have never happened. If he received the chance he desired, Hartland would be more unified than it had ever been before. It was ironic how he and King Barend wanted the same for Hartland.
