Visions: Knights of Salucia - Book 1

by C. D. Espeseth

  “It’s fine, I can take it from here, Vince,” the young man said to the guards. “Is it alright if I sheath that sword of yours?” He smiled. It was a pleasant smile, genuine and warm. Adel thought it was possibly the best smile she had ever seen. Not like Thannis at all.

  “I’ll do it,” Adel said, a bit defensively. She pulled the weapon out of the ground and retrieved the sheath beside her. The five halberds twitched at the move, but she put the sword back in its case and slung it over her shoulder. “It was my father’s. I’m the only one who should touch it.”

  “Fair enough.” The young man waved the guards away. “Really, Vince, it’s alright. I know where to find Fellow Callahan, and I’m pretty sure the Head of Siphoning will want to know about what we just saw.” He stepped to Adel and offered his hand to help her up.

  Adel took his hand and stood. The young man had feathers tied into a broad stripe of hair. On the shaved side of his head was a long thin braid tucked over his ear. He looks like an old Paleshurian warrior out of the history books. Who is he? “Thank you, Sir Spierling.” That name, was he related to the Silver Lady somehow?

  “I’m not a sir just yet. I’m an initiate, like you,” he said. “Come on, let’s go find Fellow Callahan.”

  “Are you going to report me?” Adel wiped the tears from her cheeks in annoyance. Knights don’t cry.

  “For what?” He tapped the grass with his feet. “I think it looks better this way.”

  Adel laughed and then noticed she was still holding his hand, and pulled it away. “Sorry.” She cringed up at him. He had the loveliest brown eyes.

  “Adel,” Naira said, coming to stand beside her now. The guards were returning to the gatehouse. Whoever this young man was, he had some pull with them. Spierling, Adel thought again – could it be?

  “Uh … this is …” Adel looked up apologetically at him.

  “Matoh.” His eyes locked onto Naira. “Matoh Spierling.”

  “And you can command five guardsmen to leave, Matoh Spierling?” Naira questioned.

  “I’ve known Vince my whole life,” Matoh said. “We both live only a few blocks away. Though I suppose I live here now, same as you.” He seemed to find that odd.

  Adel tried to compose herself. “This is Naira, and I’m Adel.”

  “A pleasure,” Matoh smiled.

  Adel couldn’t help trusting this young man entirely.

  “You’ll have to teach me that trick,” Matoh said to her.

  “I …” Adel began, but stopped. The tingling sensation had started to creep back into her as she once again began to siphon.

  “What is wrong, Adel!? Talk to me,” Naira said.

  “Fellow Callahan,” Adel said between ground teeth. “I need him to help.”

  “Follow me,” Matoh said, sensing her urgency. “Fellow Callahan’s quarters are this way. Hang on.”

  Adel hoped she could.

  19 - A Bit of Sport - Thannis

  It would appear the global thermohaline cycle has changed as I predicted; however, some of the consequences have been truly spectacular.

  One being the self-perpetuating storm cell rolling along across the North Ocean. The extremely warm currents coming up from the sea and the heat charged air coming off the now extensive deserts on the continents have created a storm system which may last possibly thousands of years.

  Nature’s fury is awesome to behold.

  - Journal of Robert Mannford, 096 Year 045

  That was tedious, Thannis thought, rolling his eyes and walking away from Naira and Adel. He had categorised them both as potential targets, but as they were going to be at the Academy, he would either need opportunistic settings or much more elaborate plans to misdirect the constabulary.

  Thannis had siphoned off enough of their energy to know Adel was also a gifted siphoner, while Naira’s talents seemed more unique. Both would be extremely satisfying, and delicious in their own ways, but they were not the experiences he needed just now.

  He had been cooped up on that shoddy boat for far too long. The girls were pretty, but not particularly stimulating conversationalists. He had spent most of the time they conversed pondering over how to properly hide deaths on a ferry that small. It had provided some quiet mental fun, but in the end he decided that the challenge and reward was not worth the effort required. Too many things could go wrong and far too many scenarios ended up with him having to kill everyone.

  So he had waited; but now it was time to sink his claws into this city.

  As he moved down the busy street and away from the Academy he lingered on the irksome fact that he had used his real first name; yet he concluded it could not have been helped. His cousin Dennis, who worked at the Academy and was an excellent resource to help maintain an alias, of course knew him as Thannis. Dennis, while having an excellent scientific mind, was anything but competent at subterfuge, and there was a possibility that he would need Dennis to corroborate some part of his story. There was just no way around it, there was far less chance of error that way. Besides, the family name he had given was false, so no one other than Dennis would know that he was the Thannis, Prince and heir to the Nothavran throne.

  Enough wasted thoughts; he had come to this city for its abundance of diverse and fascinating people to experience. Thannis had a whole city full of prey, and so he began to hunt.

  A lewdly dressed woman stepped out in front of him and winked at him in her garish make-up. “Hello, handsome, fancy a bit of fun?” She smiled, showing several gaps in her yellow teeth.

  Thannis’s lip wanted to curl back in disgust, but he made himself respond appropriately. “Not today, love. Too early for me I’m afraid.” He winked and spun smoothly around her, not even breaking his stride. Hopefully he was already forgotten by the wretched street urchin. He thought about how the polite smile he wore hid his murderous urge to slash open her neck just to see the surprise on her face.

  Moving away from the woman, Thannis quickly merged with the flow of the crowd. His eyes started seeing opportunities in the crush of people. He could kill easily enough. A hidden dagger thrust here, a feigned stumble and stab there. He judged he could silently cull maybe a dozen people before anyone noticed the danger. Yet so far there were no opportunities for the privacy he craved to truly experience them. So he walked another ten blocks, observing the people and getting a feel for the rhythms and sounds of the city, before he disappeared into an alley and began the hunt in earnest.

  Three steps, a barrel, and he was on the roof surveying the maze of buildings and streets. Thannis could still see the massive domed roof of the Oratorio, with the three golden towers soaring to the sky around it. Beneath that giant golden dome were enough Singers to placate him for a very long time. The thought of it made his muscles twitch with excitement, and he smiled; but he needed to satiate his urges on something a bit less rich, else he would spoil the experience. Something a bit more common to cleanse the pallet, he thought.

  He slipped across the rooftops towards the bazaar in front of him. He perched just back from the edge of the building, watching as a falcon would. It always amazed him how few people looked up.

  Just then he saw a shadow move from the corner of his eye. A flash, nothing more, but it had been there, and he knew to trust his instincts.

  Someone was watching him.

  It shouldn’t be possible; how had they found him so quickly?

  Thannis pretended he hadn’t noticed and waited for whoever it was to give themselves away.

  There. He whipped around and threw.

  His hunting knife sank deep into the brown mortar of the wall behind him.

  There was no one to be seen.

  Odd, he thought to himself. I could have sworn …

  He heard footsteps from behind the door to his left, and his hand went to his other knife and he tensed, ready to strike.

  A woman in a yellow and orange dress opened her back door and stepped out with a basket full of laundry. She jumped when she saw him, but h
er surprise turned to anger. “What you doing on my roof?”

  Not what I was expecting, yet opportunity knocks but once, he thought.

  He sighed as he spoke: “The fault is mine, madam. I appear to be jumping at shadows.” He stepped closer and held his hands out innocently.

  “That don’t explain you bein’ on my roof. Get away, you.”

  “Of course.” Thannis bowed and thrust forward.

  Her anger turned back to surprise as his knife stabbed straight up through her lower jaw and into the brain.

  Thannis let the body sink to the ground, watching it twitch. He thought it funny how he could see the flat of his knife through the gap in her teeth.

  He waited for a good long while, listening for any hint of detection, or movement from any others in the house below him.

  But there was nothing.

  The common din of the bazaar was uninterrupted by screams of outrage or shock.

  He wanted to siphon, wanted to taste whatever energy was seeping out of this laundry woman as she died, but she had not been the one watching him. He could still feel the tickle on the back of his neck of unseen eyes.

  Frustrated, he jerked his knife free and wiped the blood off on the dead woman’s dress. He had to either shake off or dispatch his pursuer before he could truly enjoy himself.

  Thannis closed his eyes and let all the years of training in the woods with his forestry master take over. He let his ears become accustomed to the sound, let himself be silent and still. He listened for what was out of place.

  And then he heard it.

  A footstep, scraping on the roof to his right.

  He uncoiled like a viper and shot towards the sound.

  Thannis opened his eyes as his knife flashed out and he saw an old woman’s face with a painted skull on it. Surprise and panic filled her eyes as he was now only one pace from slicing her wide open. Thannis had the odd feeling her recognised her.

  He did! This was …

  She flung her hand out at him and touched the crown of her head with her other.

  His mind went blank and the woman in front of him disappeared from sight.

  ***

  Thannis blinked and then had to squint against the bright sunlight and the pain it was causing his head. He rubbed at his eyes, as if waking from a dream.

  He was standing on the roof once more, looking over the bazaar, yet now he had no desire to hunt here.

  The docks. It was so obvious. Those arrogant dock workers had sneered at him earlier when he had disembarked the ferry. Yes, they were perfect. He grew excited at the prospect of the burly men trying to take him down; their energies would be full of rage and anger. Yes, that would do perfectly, it would purge the pent-up frustration.

  He felt his pulse quicken, but then hesitated. No, he thought, taken aback, they have seen me already, what if not all of them are still there? That would leave witnesses. The dock workers were horrible targets. Why ever would he think he should go after them?

  He shook his head, trying to clear it, then studied the bazaar below and saw a beautiful Tawan sailor swaggering down through the markets. He will do nicely, Thannis thought, and stepped towards the edge. There was a spot just out of sight he could slip down to.

  Pain shot between his eyes and his vision blurred. He stopped in his tracks.

  No, he told himself, the docks. I should go to the docks. I must go to the docks. He would make one of those warehouses his killing field. It would be glorious; each kill would sweeten the next one. Any other target would pale in comparison.

  All doubt was swept away with the pain in his head, and once he began moving towards the docks the pain began to dissipate.

  Thannis raced away across the rooftops, placing careful feet upon the domed ceramic tiles as easily as the stealthiest thief, yet this time he did not notice the shadowy figure creeping along behind him.

  Esmerak made sure to keep her distance. The blade Thannis had thrown had nearly pinned her skull to the wall.

  20 - An Old Man - Adel

  Today Kali recommended introducing some of the mutagenic inducing proteins into the crops of some of the established settlements on the north end of the continent.

  I don’t know if I really believe the expected results, some of them are truly incredible, but this could be a major step in bringing our species back into harmony with the world.

  I have to maintain hope.

  - Journal of Robert Mannford, Day 312 Year 015

  Sinuous vines covered the dark stone walls framing the borders of the serene garden that Adel now sat in. The leaves of dark red and green popping up from those vines somehow instilled peace in the beautiful space.

  It’s a good place to die, Adel thought. Her body was exhausted, and all she could do now was try to hold back the fire coursing through her for as long as possible. Hold it at bay, for she knew that if her concentration slipped it would all be over.

  Keep the energy moving. It burned like white-hot ants crawling beneath her skin, but she kept that molten flow coursing into the black sword. She had lost track of how long she had sat here, but it didn’t matter any longer. Her mind could not think of the progression of time. All she had left in her world was the pain of the fire within her. But the pain meant she was still alive.

  Her muscles burned and she could feel the sweat dripping from her brow. A steady rhythm of blue sparks dropped from the shining black blade onto the grass.

  Matoh had led them to this garden, but Fellow Callahan had not been around. The nice young man had gone to get help. Naira had offered to stay with her, but Adel knew her chances would be better if there were two of them out there searching.

  Naira could do nothing for her except watch her die, and Adel didn’t want that. She didn’t want to burden her friend with her horrible end.

  So she had sent her only two friends in the world away, and that had seemed a lifetime ago.

  The end was close. Adel knew her body well, and she knew the limits of her endurance had already been far surpassed. Part of her wanted to let go. Surely the pain would be blinding if she did … but then there would be an end to it.

  She lifted her head in agony and made herself look around, forcing herself to see the beauty around her. She had heard it was best to die thinking of something beautiful, of something that made you happy.

  Strange dark blue statues stood amongst the vibrant autumnal colours. Almost as if silent watchers of her end. Some looked like ancient warriors; others were draped in flowing stone robes, holding books and branches aloft. What they were meant to represent she could not tell, but she could feel their eyes staring at her, like they understood her somehow.

  She listened to the quiet roll of water on stone behind her as the water from a central fountain spilled down the pyramid shaped rock at its heart. Water lilies floated on the slightly disturbed surface of the pond around the fountain.

  Water! The thought pushed through the pain in Adel’s head. She was an idiot!

  She took one hand from the sword and plunged it into the pond. The water felt as cool as ice, and for a blissful moment some of the fire within her quieted.

  She drew in a shuddering breath and then panted as she savoured the blessed coolness of the water, but then her dread began to rise once more as she felt the relief from the water begin to bleed away. The water’s temperature was also rising, and in the back of her mind she marvelled at the torrent of energy which must be flowing through her to effect the change so quickly.

  A tear fell down her cheek and she put her hand back on the sword. Her body shook. Not long now, she thought. The sword had initially felt like a bottomless reservoir, but now she began to feel resistance to more energy being pushed into it. The sword would not be enough. The flow was too strong. Her body was going numb; already she was losing the feeling in her hands. Soon she wouldn’t know if she held the sword or not. And then I’ll burn.

  Adel closed her eyes and took her hand out of the water, placing it back onto the swo
rd. The black blade’s point dug into the rock at her feet and sparks began to pulse from the black metal, falling in waves upon the fountain stone. I’m sorry, Father, I’ve failed, I’ve let you down. She was going to die for her failure, for her sin. She wished she was home, wished she could have died in a place she knew.

  The numbness was spreading into her legs and face, and that was dangerous indeed. Pain she could at least feel, but the nothingness in her hands meant she was losing the fight. She opened her eyes and saw her breath in the air, smoke arising from the sword’s pommel, and blood running between her fingers. Her hands must be blistering.

  It was beginning.

  This is why it is forbidden to use your body as a conduit. Halom was punishing her for her arrogance; she had committed blasphemy and no song or hymn, no measure of repentance could save her now. She felt blisters begin to swell on her back. They almost feel cold.

  As if in a dream, she fell forward and one hand let go of the sword to fall back into the water with a splash and slip beneath the surface. Adel watched numbly as a golden carp swam from beneath a lily pad and found her fingers. She felt the pressure of its mouth as it probed inquisitively.

  She laughed through the numbness and her tears. Thank you, silly fish. Its scales glistened in the sunlight. Beautiful, she thought vaguely; hold on to the image. She felt her body spasm and felt she could take no more.

  The dam inside her broke.

  Adel felt an ocean of power rushing towards her, blasting forth to consume her.

  But then … she didn’t die. Something had touched her wrist, right at the last moment.

  The dreaded onslaught never came. Instead the burning torrent began to ebb away, like water seeping into the soil after a hard rain.