by Greg Dragon
Euphoria And Bliss
Knights and Demons - Book 9
Greg Dragon
http://gregdragon.com
Copyright © 2016
Thirsty Bird Productions
This is a book of fiction. Names, characters, and situations are of the author’s imagination. Any similarities to people, places, or crimes is purely coincidental.
No part of this book may be reproduced, stored, or transmitted without the express written consent of the author.
Chapter One
It was supposed to be over. Bortex was wounded badly, he got healed, and Orwan had fixed her head after the beast, Arlan Fo split it open. Alysia put her right hand on the hilt of Euphoria, her closed grip brushing against the guard as her left stayed near the bottom, the blade balanced and light in her hands.
She was in the tight passageway of an underground cave, and her friends were asleep behind her; except for Amarah, who was crouched waiting for whoever was coming in. The sky outside was red, and washed the cave’s entrance in a crimson paint. A large man stepped through, his armored boots crunching the stones of the cave loudly, and as he rounded the corner, Alysia hesitated before cutting him down.
Reluctantly, she lowered the blade, whipping it up and sliding it back into its scabbard. Lancert stepped forward and held up his hand, and an orb of light floated out from it, illuminating the cave and waking the men who were asleep on the ground. They all got up quickly and bowed to him; even Bortex who was on the ground bleeding out not five hours before.
“The timeline has moved up on the war, my friends,” he said. “Alysia is here, and the V’Kosha are aware, so now Chaos is amassing his troops on the holy fields of Rhian.”
“What’s so significant about me being here?” Alysia asked, annoyed that he had shown up so late. “You know, Father—if that’s what you really are to me—we could have used your help a few hours ago. Do the grand knights of Ert not help out their lesser, or are you all blind to what goes on down here?”
Lancert’s face looked pained and he hung his head, then seemed to notice the body of Arlan Fo for the first time. “Did you do this, Alysia? Who was this man…wait, that’s a V’Kosha scout.” He put his mailed hand up to cover his dark lips. “Did he lure you in here to kill you?”
When Amarah said yes, the knight knelt down, put his finger inside of a pool of blood, and smelled it. “This is bad,” he mumbled. “I hadn’t realized it until now, but the dark army is starting to make their move to begin the grand conflict.”
Alysia rolled her eyes and stepped forward. Her expression was that of a woman at her wit’s end, and she stared into Lancert’s dark pupils for a long time. “I am going to need you to tell me everything, right now,” she said. “You have only told me that I am your daughter, but you have not told me who I really am, what this war is about, and who Chaos and the V’Kosha really are. Everyone seems to be in the dark except you. We get it, Chaos bad, Ert good, but that does not explain creatures like this one that are not of Chaos, and why the sudden interest in this sword that you gave to me.”
Lancert studied her face and then the others. He looked as if he was cornered, and trying to find a way to fight his way out. “Which one of you told her?” he asked, his voice taking on an edge that made him seem even more menacing.
“I–I mentioned it, Lancert,” Amarah admitted, standing suddenly and bowing her head to him. “She destroyed an Archon that was using a village as a battery to breed V’Kosha, and I couldn’t help but recognize the fact that she has great power.”
“Gods, Amarah, you have put me in a difficult position. Alysia, this was something I wanted to tell you when you were more concrete in your stance against Chaos. But the war is upon us now, and you are one of the warriors that can be a deciding factor in who will rule for the next half-life.”
“How long is a half-life?” Alysia asked. “In terms I will understand, Lancert. Earth time.”
“Roughly one hundred thousand years, Alysia. The dead will drift through the shadow lands, biding their time to return inside of a brand new body. But during that time the living will rule Yalem, bringing about a period of peace, or a period of constant conflict. All Chaos knows is war, Alysia, and all we want to do is bring about peace.”
“What about the V’Kosha, this third faction that attacked my world? What will they bring about if they destroy both your Erts and Chaos’s Turevila?”
Lancert waved his hand in front of him and a soft ball of light appeared, rising up to the ceiling of the cave and illuminating it. “If the V’Kosha wins then Yalem will become a wasteland cursed with the walking dead. Spirits meant to get their rest inside of the shadow lands will never be able to pass on, and will be shambling versions of themselves for an eternity. Oh, Alysia, the V’Kosha can never win. Even if it—” he sighed.
“Even if it means forming an alliance with Chaos,” Alysia finished for him. “You would have to put your differences aside in order to preserve life. To you, Chaos is an insane entity, a warlord who will send plenty to your afterlife, but who will reward his generals and the like to become rulers of their own nations in Yalem. He would sit atop his warrior’s throne for over a thousand lifetimes, and then eventually the Erts would make their way back and we would be back here again. Am I right so far, Father?” she asked.
“Yes, you are very perceptive,” Lancert said.
“So, this brings me back to my original question on who it is that I am, really. Over one hundred thousand years ago, you Erts, Turevila, and V’Kosha had it out just like you’re doing now, and I am guessing that one of the warriors was me.” Alysia laughed at the absurdity in what she was saying. “I died, you must have been my dad and loved me enough to hide me in another world, and then Chaos found out and came to retrieve me, all while wrecking my world to do so.”
“The V’Kosha came for you, Alysia. Chaos came to protect you.”
Alysia couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “What … but … he hurt my dad, and Tracy. What was all that crap with Dibolosa, and making me fight the Turevila, and—” Her eyes began to dance around as she tried to make sense of it, but she didn’t know what to think.
“Your real name is Ambriel Ilyse, and you were the high commander of the branch of Erts known as the Turevila. There was a time when we Erts only knew of one enemy here in Yalem: the corrupt demons of the underworld known as the V’Kosha. They were a product of a cruel wizard and a corruption that he brought about to our world—but that is a story for another day. You were our greatest knight, but you were dissatisfied with our rules and what you saw as dogma.
“You defected right before the grand conflict, and took most of the Ert knights with you. That was the age when the V’Kosha would have defeated us. You were so angry with us, Alysia, that you shattered our ranks and paid little heed to the true enemy. You died in battle and we barely won, but your name became the stuff of legends, even to those that you had done great harm to. Chaos came into the world and practically worshipped you. The two of us learned of a plot by the V’Kosha to keep you in the shadow lands so we worked together to hide your essence.
This could only be done through consumption, and the details of that ritual are our secret to keep, so please don’t ask me to expose them. I used a portal to travel to your Earth, and did many things unbecoming of a knight to hide you away from your enemies. All of this took a lot of time, Alysia, and Chaos and I began to see the future of Yalem in very different ways. The return of Ambriel could mean a return of greatness for the Erts, but Chaos would use you to destroy us. Like you in the past, he wants to set up a new order with you as his queen to rule it.”
Alysia stood silent, her mind a maelstrom of thoughts, and she
barely could look at Lancert. Amarah dropped to one knee, bowing in front of her, and the rest of her companions did the same. “Why are you all bowing?” she asked quietly, but the Erts seemed reluctant to answer.
“You are Ambriel Ilyse,” Bortex whispered. “You are the daughter of the damned. The one who will bring back order to all of Yalem.”
“Knock it off, guys. Even if it’s all true, the only thing I know is the life of a girl who grew up in New Jersey. All of this powerful knight and traitor to Erts nonsense means nothing to me, but it’s cool to know that I’m reincarnated from some sort of badass. It explains so many things I was wondering about, and it makes me really, really hate you, Lancert. You used my mother, then screwed up our world. No wonder you lied about … everything.”
“I’m sorry Amb—I mean, Alysia—but how would you have taken it if I’d told you this on Earth?”
“We had giants crushing cities, demons flying around, and V’Kosha having their way with all sorts of people. Learning that I am the worst of your lot would not have shocked me, and I would have been prepared to leave my one true dad. You and your buddy Chaos took James Knight away from me, and that man loved me more than anyone else.” She was crying now, her anger increasing as she thought about the fact that she would never see him again.
“You know what? Screw this,” she finally said, and pushed past Lancert to exit the cave. Her head was spinning and she wanted to be alone. So many lies and half-truths, so many narratives that weren’t even complementary of one another. What was she to believe? Even if she was this Ambriel Ilyse, wasn’t that woman a villain? She had splintered an old order just to satisfy her own hubris, and left her puppet, Chaos, to carry on her nonsense even after her death.
Why would she want to go back to being this woman, or having anything to do with her, period? She was Alysia Knight, a girl who had always been accused of being “too kind,” or “too sweet,” in the past. She had a father who doted on her, even though she wasn’t of his blood, and had only been an adult for a short time before this Yalem nonsense turned her world upside down.
She found a nice flat rock that was shaded by an even larger boulder, and sat with her knees drawn in, thinking about her father. She recalled how carefully he had examined the twilight sword that Chaos had given her. He was a warrior that knew weaponry, and had done his best to pass on that legacy to her. Much of what she was she owed to James Knight, and she had not been given a chance to thank him.
“We’re going below, CeeCee,” Amarah said. She had been posted up outside of the cave watching her friend brood for a long time, and Alysia hadn’t even noticed.
“What’s down below?” Alysia said.
“Apparently Arlan Fo was telling the truth. The sword, your sword, it’s down below,” she said.
“How about I don’t care?” Alysia said.
“CeeCee, you’re going through a lot. There isn’t anyone in that cave that would say different, but I’m tired, you’re tired, and we all just want to take a really long break.” She laughed and walked up to sit beside Alysia. There, she placed her hand on the dark girl’s knee and shook it playfully. “Just think, you can accomplish what it is you came out here for, and spend another week or two resting peacefully in bed.”
“Christ, that does sound amazing,” Alysia whispered, thinking about the pleasure of lying inside a cool hotel room with her throbbing head healing and a mug of ale within her reach.
She looked into Amarah’s eyes and swallowed her pride, then hopped up and followed her back into the cave. When she saw the others she gave them all hugs. It was her way of showing that she was not upset with them. She didn’t hug Lancert, but touched his arm. She was still very upset with him for not telling her the truth, but she wanted them to move on so that she could get the rest that Amarah promised.
With the light from Lancert’s ball, the path through the cave was very different from before. Instead of darkness and the frightening uncertainty of the way ahead, there was the spectacle of the cave itself. Old tunnels, built by natural events that led down to another world, buried by a war that was only remembered through legends.
Orwan and the other knights seemed awed by what they saw, but Alysia was still distracted. Her mind drifted on visions of her imagined past, and she wondered if a time would come when she would shed the Alysia Knight persona and be forever lost to this person Ambriel Ilyse.
She decided that losing her identity would be the equivalent of death. She was Alysia, after all, CeeCee to her friends, and “Baby Girl” to James Knight, her father. Becoming Ambriel Ilyse would make her last twenty-two years null and void, which was death; it was like being sent into oblivion.
Morbid thoughts crept into her mind and she thought on Yalem. Between Lancert and Chaos, she had learned that life moved on in her old world. Her father and mother had separate lives, and none of them knew of a girl named Alysia Knight. If she were being real about it, this was worse than death. She had never existed, and what she remembered was a mere transition in an old Ert’s afterlife.
She began to feel low, really low, and as they walked along in the silence, she realized that she no longer felt compelled to help any of them. Chaos returning her back to Earth was no longer a desire. Lancert giving her the truth ... what was the point, really? There was no Alysia Knight, so her existence was only to their benefit.
“CeeCee!” Amarah touched her shoulder suddenly and Alysia was finally aware that she had been calling her. They stood on a precipice bordered by blackness, looking down at the top of a crooked staircase that led down into the void.
“Well, that’s not scary,” Amarah joked, but Alysia barely heard her and walked forward past Lancert to descend the stairs.
“Let’s just get this out of the way,” she said, but a firm hand grasped her arm and pulled her back from the darkness, and she spun around to see the stern face of the knight, Lancert.
“Allow me to go first, Alysia,” he said, and she could tell from his eyes that he knew what it was that she was trying to do. “You are more important than you know, and there are furies inside the darkness here.”
Though Lancert’s light followed them down into the darkness, it barely did anything to illuminate their surroundings. It was a deep blackness below the cave, and it was cold, so cold in fact that Alysia could no longer brood. She watched her feet to keep from looking to either side, where the stairs fell off into nothingness. No one said a word, and it felt as if they had been descending forever.
“What’s going through your mind, Alysia?” Lancert asked, and she didn’t answer for a very long time, until the quiet of the darkness compelled her.
“Nothing is going through my mind, Lancert. I’m just here. Tell me, what would go through your mind if you woke up and learned that everything that you have known throughout your existence was a lie? Actually, I would pay to see how you would react. Have you wake up in the middle of Manhattan on a typical work week, wearing your suit of armor and all.” She began to laugh hysterically, but it was a cruel laugh that didn’t influence anyone else to join in.
“I know that it’s a lot—”
“You don’t know squat, tin man. Let’s just keep on moving so that I can get my sword, and you can get a brain.” She started laughing again, but the puzzled Lancert let her be.
“I really wish that the truth was revealed to you when you were in a better place to receive it.”
Alysia made to lash out at him but then the light grew in its intensity. The stairs ended inside of a large room with cobwebs everywhere, and walls made of stone.
Chapter Two
Lancert’s light took to the high ceiling and Alysia found that she could see the entire room. It was nothing like what she expected. While the walls and exterior design rang similar to the old medieval castles of Europe back on Earth, the furniture and décor were extremely alien.
There were sixteen stone columns that held the ceiling up. Stone statues of knights, tw
isted in painful positions, were attached to the columns, arranged in a way that made them barely recognizable. When Alysia first saw the columns, she thought that the sculpture was trying to depict smoke rising to the ceiling, but when she got close to one she could see the detail in the faces, armor, and weaponry. They were very realistic and age had not affected them much.
“What is this place?” she asked as they walked the length of the room towards a large set of double doors.
“This was the great hall of Beilon,” Lancert replied. “It was where the Erts would gather to hold meetings and have private conversations before entering the sanctuary.”
“I’m guessing that the sanctuary is behind those double doors there,” she said, looking past the columns to the old door that looked as if it hadn’t been opened for over a thousand years.
“That would be it, Alysia. We would meet out here—the higher Erts and me—and then one of us would volunteer to go inside and council with the angels.”
Alysia stopped and stepped in front of him. “Angels. Did you say angels?” she whispered.
“Yeah, angels, but not the celestial servants of heaven that they are on your Earth. An angel here is the highest form of Ert, a brother or sister that has proven himself worthy of a crown, and a matchless warrior that has destroyed enough V’Kosha to be noticed. As Ambriel you were very close to ascending, Alysia, but you ceased believing. You left us and took Syphert, who would later become Chaos. The angels decided to build a new palace, one that you—the fallen—could never know of, lest you be tempted to attack them.”
Alysia began to laugh hysterically. She laughed so much that she doubled over, and Orwan rushed forward to hold her up since she was on the brink of collapse. “So, it sounds to me like I am Satan, and Chaos is my sidekick in evil. In our bibles back home, we learn that the source of all evil is a fallen angel. I was under the impression that only demons live here, but now you’re telling me that there are good angels who are all afraid of me.”
