The End of Days (The Soul Stone Trilogy Book 3)

by Matt Moss

  “Help me!” Torin cried, reaching out for someone to save him.

  “Argh. Easy, easy,” Arkin said, covering his head and tucking into a ball.

  Lyla laughed out loud and enjoyed the show along with everyone else.

  “Alright, that’s enough,” a mother of one of the children said and doused the bunch with a bucket of water. “Leave brother Torin and brother Arkin alone now. Run along.” The children obeyed and scampered off, laughing as they ran through the streets.

  Torin scrambled to his feet, shoving Arkin to the ground as he tried to stand. The big man turned to the crowd. “Alright. Show’s over. Get back to work.” Another bucket of water splashed him in the face and drew another laugh from the people. Torin spit out water and mud as he ran a hand down his face. He gave Arkin a tired look.

  Arkin smiled a mouthful of white teeth among his brown, mud covered face. He patted Torin on the cheek in passing, leaving a muddy handprint where the water had just washed him clean. Lyla took Arkin’s hand. “Let’s get you cleaned up,” she said.

  They left the town, taking the side road that ran towards the back of the grounds, along the river and by the gardens.

  The water was cold, reminding Arkin of the waters up north where he trained with Moses. But not nearly that cold. He started removing his clothes. Lyla watched as he did, her eyes hungry for more.

  “Turn around,” he told her, before removing his undergarment. She giggled and did as he told her. Fully nude, he stepped into the river and submerged himself. Hearing him do so, Lyla turned around and smiled at him. “Is it cold?”

  “Why don’t you come find out?” he replied. To his surprise, she began removing her clothes. His eyes widened and breathe quickened as she stripped down to her undergarments.

  “Turn around,” she told him with a grin. He spun in the water, doing as he was told.

  He heard her step into the water, her breath becoming sharp as the cold touched her skin. When he could sense her behind him, and fully in the water, he turned around. She stood in front of him, naked, and looked into his eyes. He looked at the chill bumps on her shoulders and ran a finger across her skin. Not able to control himself, he pulled her close and pressed his lips against hers. She moaned in passion and wrapped her arms around him, pressing her breasts against his chest. He held her close, not wanting to let go and his hands traced down the lower of her back.

  She pulled away and gave him a wry smile. “Not yet,” she told him, her tone promising him more later. “Not here.”

  With hungry eyes, he watched Lyla leave the river and carefully make her way back to the bank. She didn’t tell him to turn around as she dressed, keeping her back to him.

  Breathe, Arkin thought.

  She turned back to him, drawing her wet hair back and around her shoulders. “Aren’t you coming?”

  “One second,” he said, embarrassed to step out of the water and reveal himself to her in his current state.

  “Fine. I’ll wait for you over here,” she said in amusement and walked out of sight.

  He shook his head, marveling at the love he had for her.

  “How did I get so lucky?”

  A grand feast was prepared that night.

  Hogs had been hunted earlier in the day and were roasting over a fire while everyone worked on rebuilding the Grand Highlands. Bread, nuts, cheeses, and other provisions were brought from the camp, making a nice addition to the meal. Inside the Lodge, wine and ale flowed, procured from the reserves that some of the older villagers had stashed away, hidden offsite. Torin praised the wisdom of the older generation as he offered up a tankard to them in salute. The big man walked to a table where Arkin and Lyla sat together, talking among themselves.

  “Look at you two. Glowing. In love.” Torin’s words were sincere, his eyes glossed over from many drinks.

  Arkin clapped him on the shoulder. “I’m a lucky man.”

  Torin raised his eyebrows at that and gave a firm nod in agreement. Lyla rolled her eyes and touched Arkin’s hand. Torin looked at the table, lost in a thought. “I’m a fool for not going to her.” He looked into Arkin’s eyes. “Take no offense to this, but I’m longing for some of your aunt Clara’s cooking, if you know what I mean.”

  Arkin laughed. “No offense taken. You’re a good man, Torin. She would be lucky to have someone such as yourself as a constant in her life. You should go to her.”

  “What if she’s found someone else?” he asked, his eyes and tone serious. “What if, in all the time I’ve wasted, she forgot about me and found comfort in the arms of another?” He looked down again. “I was never there for her. Always in passing, finding comfort in her arms but never thinking it was anything more. Now I realize how foolish I’ve been and how much time has been wasted.” He took both of their hands in his and looked them in the eye. “Never take time for granted. Tomorrow isn’t guaranteed and love shouldn’t have to wait.” And with that, he walked away and back into the crowd.

  Arkin looked to Lyla and found her smiling back at him. The way their eyes met, the way her hand softly touched his; this would be a night to remember. He put the ale to his lips, and she did the same, seemingly thinking the same thing and anticipating what was to come. “Shall we eat?” she asked him. In reply, he took her hand and they stood in line to fill their plates.

  Lyla didn’t care for manners when it came to eating, and Arkin liked that about her. After finishing a pile of ribs, she licked her fingers clean, shameless. He laughed.

  “What?” she asked.

  He ran a finger down the corner of her mouth to clean away the mess. She grinned and continued cleaning her fingers. “You’re a mess,” Arkin said. “Whatever will I do with you?” She winked at him and excused herself from the table. “I have to… you know. Be right back.”

  “I’ll be here.”

  He watched her walk away and disappear into the crowd of people. He looked around the room, pleased to find everyone socializing the way they used to—happy and without a care in the world. Almost as if nothing ever happened.

  Recalling the way the Grand Highlands used to be, Arkin gave into thought. And so is the turning of the world. Life precedes death. Death and destruction brings forth new life.

  He finished his cup and went in search for another. As his head was turned, he bumped into a man, spilling ale all over his chest. The man looked down at the mess, then looked up to Arkin and grinned, slapped him on the shoulder and continued on his way. The encounter stopped Arkin in his tracks as Billy’s memory washed over him. Not long ago had he ran into the short, grumpy man, and Billy cursed Arkin’s name and chased him out of the Lodge. Arkin smiled and looked up. “Hello, Billy,” he said to the heavens, knowing that his old friend was with them in spirit. He walked to the cask and poured himself and Lyla another drink.

  She met him back at the table and straightened her tunic proper before sitting. Arkin smiled to himself, laughing inside at the condition of her clothes, knowing that they were soiled and worn as much as his. They hadn’t had time to wash them, other than a dip in the creek. But a warrior preparing for battle had little time to worry about the cleanliness of their clothes. She was a member of the Order; a fighter. And in her recent training; a warrior of the light.

  “What are you looking at?” she asked, noticing his stare.

  “A doctor. A fighter. An amazing woman who can do anything she puts her mind to,” he said without hesitation.

  She cocked her head and gave her fondest smile, beyond flattered by his words. “Well, you sure do know how to treat a lady.”

  “You’re one-of-a-kind, Lyla.”

  “So are you,” she said and raised her cup. They drank to one another and to the promise of spending eternity together.

  A group haggling Torin caught Arkin’s eye. They begged him to sing a song, to which the big man waved them off and humbly declined. “The Road Back Home,” Arkin called out above the noise, telling Torin to sing the familiar song that was near and dear to the
Order’s heart.

  Torin slouched his shoulders and gave Arkin a look. After a moment of contemplation and goading from numerous folk, he finished his cup, slammed it on the bar, then walked to the middle of the room. People cheered and made room for the big man as he took center stage. He stood there, head down, and Arkin didn’t know if he had it in him to sing or not. The people waited with baited breath for Torin’s baritone to ring through, low and true.

  “And lo now my path has been set out before me

  My time has come, and I’ll answer the call

  Don’t cry for me, sister. Keep me in your memory

  You’ll see me returning on the road back home

  There’s no way of knowing how long I’ll be without you

  And I cannot wait to see you again

  Don’t come for me, brother. I know the way back there

  I’ll return to you shortly on the road back home

  Mother, oh, mother, your face I miss dearly

  The days are hard, and the journey is long

  Don’t fear for me mother, keep me in your memory

  Your love and your wisdom will guide me back home”

  Torin choked up, lost in emotion. He took a deep breath and gathered himself before singing the last verse.

  “Father, pray for me, watch o’er me, guide me

  Know that I’ve missed you ever since you’ve been gone

  One day I’ll see you and embrace you as always

  You’ll meet me with open arms on the road back home”

  When Torin finished, Arkin wiped the tears from his eyes, looked around, and found everyone else in stunned silence—most of them shedding tears along with him. He turned to Lyla as she wiped her face, looking up to keep more tears from falling.

  Arkin took her hand. “Let’s get some air.” She nodded and followed him out the back of the Lodge. The moon sat high in a clear sky and the air lacked the bitter chill of late fall.

  “It’s such a lovely night,” Lyla noted as she walked beside Arkin. They came upon the Gauntlet and she turned to him with excitement. “Let’s race.”

  “Not tonight,” he said, looking at the wooden obstacle course that the Order used for training.

  “Oh, come on. It’ll be fun,” she protested and pulled his arm.

  He held his ground. “Maybe some other time.”

  She pouted in play. “Fine. But we should have a day where everyone runs the Gauntlet, like we used to.”

  Arkin grinned at that, recalling the first time he ran the Gauntlet. He completed the second stage, but never went further due to Paul traveling to the capital and everything that transpired afterwards. He was curious if he could complete the course or not. “Not a bad idea. A day to celebrate. Let’s set it up soon. It’ll give everyone a break from working and a chance to relax and have some fun.”

  “All work and no play is no way to be,” Lyla stated with a grin and continued walking with Arkin, their arms swinging as they left the training grounds. Guided by the light of the moon, they walked to the edge of the grounds, near the mountains in the back where the trail to the camp began. He stopped upon seeing it. Lyla pulled him away before his thoughts could take over. “We’re almost there,” she said.

  “Almost where?”

  “You’ll see.”

  They walked slowly along the river bank in silence, neither speaking a word, afraid that if they did, it would steal away the magic of the night. The palms of his hand were wet and his heart was pounding as they neared the garden; the orchard of trees all around. Wordless, she led him to the middle of the orchard and stopped. Her eyes shone bright in the moonlight as she turned to him. She kissed his lips, then began to undress. He longed for her as she presented herself to him, naked and willing. “I want you, Arkin.”

  He clumsily ripped his clothes off, nearly tripping over his pants as he tried to pull a leg through. She laughed as he finally pulled it free and tossed his pants over his shoulders. He walked close to her, touching only her lips with a kiss. Falling into it, she pulled him close and pressed her body against his. He pulled back and gazed into her eyes for a moment. She guided him to the ground.

  In the sanctity of the night, beneath the moon and stars, they made love.

  When they were through, they lie with one another and gazed up at the stars. His hand laid upon her chest, rising as she drew each breath. “I love you, Lyla. I’ve loved you since I first saw you. I’ll always love you.”

  She turned her head to him. “I love you, too, Arkin. I always have and I always will.” She nuzzled her head into his neck and he cherished the moment. “This was a great day,” she sighed, tucking herself into him.

  He brushed her hair with his hand.

  No, he thought. This was a perfect day.

  TWENTY-FIVE

  The sea breeze felt cool against Lucian’s face as he stood at the end of the docks on the outskirts of Kingsport. A nearby drunkard sat on the docks putting a bottle to his lips, his back leaning against the brick wall of a shop. Lucian tried to pay the man no attention.

  “Waiting on someone?” the man asked. Lucian didn’t reply and turned his gaze towards the sea. The man chuckled. “Yeah, I’ve been there before. Had me a lass one time, ya know. Said she’d wait for me as I sailed away on a shipping boat for a decent wage and a little respect.” The man paused to take another drink. “But, wouldn’t you know… came back two months later and she’d already left with another man. No word. No explanation. Just gone. The love of my life. I was going to marry her, ya know.”

  Lucian stepped towards the edge of the dock, turning his back to the man.

  Again, the drunkard chuckled. “I had that same look in my eye; the same one that you have now. I remember that feeling well. Thinking that she loves you. Knowing, deep down, that she’ll wait for you to return.” He took a long drink, drained the bottle, and threw it past Lucian, casting it into the sea. “Well, let me set your mind at ease. I can tell you what she’s doing at this very moment. While you’re here thinking about her, she’s forgotten about you. Would you like for me to tell you why?” The man shuffled forward a bit, speaking to Lucian in all seriousness. “It’s because she’s bent over somewhere, moaning like a whore as another man fills her insides!”

  Lucian turned around and snapped his gaze at the man. The man laughed out loud until he wheezed and coughed. He reclined back against the wall and pulled out another bottle that he had stashed behind a nearby crate. Lucian shook his head, pitying the man as he grumbled, trying to pull the cork free.

  A big man walking towards him on the docks caught Lucian’s eye.

  Karn stopped ten paces away. “I see my message found you. Thank you for meeting me.”

  Lucian cocked his head and remained silent, waiting on the giant to speak.

  “Your little message that you carved into Victor’s wall was heard loud and clear. Yes, he knows it was you. And yes, he counts you as an enemy now and will kill you on sight.”

  Lucian nodded, slowly, and turned his head towards the sea.

  Karn took a step closer. “But I need to know which side you’re on. The war is coming and the lines are drawn. And since you’ve no allegiance to either side, it’s best that you just don’t get involved and sit this one out.”

  Lucian grinned and met Karn’s eye. “Scared that I might join in?”

  Karn pursed his lips. “You can settle the score with Victor after the war.” The giant looked towards the sea, then back to Lucian. “I’ve been here for a thousand years. I’ve seen the ambitions of man and how they try to change the world. How they thirst for power. But never have I seen anyone come so close to godhood as Victor.”

  “He’s done some incredible things,” Lucian noted.

  Karn nodded. “Incredible, yes. But if he achieves his goal, it will shake the very foundations of existence, in this world and the next. That is why he cannot be stopped.”

  “A bold claim,” Lucian said with a grin. “Maybe he’s just never met his
match before.”

  Karn smiled. “You humans and your soul tapping, as you call it. Like dipping your toes into the stream of another dimension. Who do you think brought that consciousness into this world, hmm? You think mankind just figured it out one day?” Karn spat to the side and nodded at his words. “Victor has transcended into another plane of reality. His power is unreal and cannot be stopped.”

  “He doesn’t scare me. And neither do you,” Lucian stated and turned to walk away. After two steps, he paused and spoke to the side. “Tell him that I’ll meet him on the field of battle.” He began to leave. Ten armed guards came around the side of the building and blocked his way. Ten more appeared behind Karn and awaited orders.

  The drunkard stood and pressed his back against the wall.

  Lucian turned around and spoke to Karn. “Really? Twenty men is all you could bring?”

  “I thought I could sway you, but seems you’ve lost all sense. And now you must die,”

  Karn said.

  Lucian put two fingers to his head and his eyes flushed white. In response, the guards ran towards the edge of the dock and jumped into the sea. Fully armored, they sank into the depths of the black water.

  The drunkard, having saw the miracle, froze. He looked at the bottle in his hands and

  softly placed it down. “That’s it! I’m done drinking…” he mumbled and stumbled away.

  Karn snarled. “I see your powers have grown. Good for you.”

  “I’ll see you soon,” Lucian promised and walked away.

  TWENTY-SIX

  Months passed by and the first snow began to fall.

  Arkin sat along the banks of Mills River and pondered about the soul stone that he’d been holding on to for so long, now pinched between his thumb and finger. He knew it was a stone of sight, based on what Paul taught him about the nature of the stones, and had been struggling with the urge to use it ever since he freed it from the Picaro box.