Repeating the bitter memory stung Caisa’s mouth. But saying his name after all these years felt good. It was like a mantra. Lord Drofan. I will kill Lord Drofan. If he was even alive, anymore. Who knows, perhaps someone else had beaten her to it and killed him already. Then what would she do? Where would she go? Would her craving for revenge die along with him? She doubted it would ever die. Her desire to claim the power of the world was still too strong.
“So let’s find him.” Aurellia sighed. “But don’t be surprised when we discover he doesn’t exist anymore.”
The stomping of boots caused everyone to raise their eyes. A line of soldiers was advancing on them. The air bristled with the power of magic. Caisa could see the sparkling remnants of sorcerers moving about, invisible. Shadows cast over stones, then disappeared.
They were coming for them.
19. Illusion of Victory
The high priest of Yavreel, with a fair amount of nervous satisfaction, informed Talis and Mara that the assault against their world had been stopped.
“Have you captured all the invaders? How many were there?”
My allies have informed me that the Starwalkers, including the ones called Selana and Jared, have successfully escaped from the invaders and have joined our ranks. The young man and the girl fought viciously against us, along with the two leaders. Two enemy priests were slain by our forces. The others disappeared with the leader, the ancient one. I suspect they went someplace to rest and refortify. But it won’t be long before we subdue or kill them all.
“The two younger ones are our friends. They were forced as we were into this ill-fated invasion.” Talis cast concerned eyes at the priest. “Can you promise that they not be harmed? They will aid us in your defense.”
Defense? I doubt we require assistance from you. Your wish is denied in regards to your friends. They’ve brought violence against us and will have to face the punishment as required by our laws.
The priest was interrupted by a messenger, who studied the priest in some silent exchange.
I’ve just received word of more attacks to the south. I must go. Unfortunately, our forces are not well-prepared for guerrilla tactics. Though I can say, after studying their magic, we now have a suitable hypothesis regarding crafting a defense against them. Many of our mages believe they can destroy them.
“Never underestimate them,” Talis said. “Especially Lord Aurellia.”
Is he the leader?
“No, the leader calls herself the Goddess Caisa. Lord Aurellia is my master and her apprentice. Even if you kill her you won’t defeat her. Her spirit can leave and inhabit another body.”
Then we must trap or try and destroy the soul, as we once did with the old masters. There is no other way to defeat such a being. There might still be someone in our Order who remembers the technique to perform such a rite. That is, if we can find them. The high priest made a twisted expression, eyes distant and grave. Excuse me one moment. I must confer with the others.
Talis let out a sigh of relief as the priest left. “Let’s hope they have a chance against Caisa. Though I’m skeptical they can win. They’ve only managed to kill two so far, even after rallying all their forces against them. Even if they manage to capture Caisa, they don’t seem to have a way to perform this rite.”
“If they don’t win, we lose.” A twitch crossed Mara’s face. “We’ll be the first ones Caisa and Aurellia go against.”
“I don’t think Aurellia will care, honestly. And Caisa has bigger foes to defeat.”
“The old masters? It sounds like they’re dead or long gone.”
“I doubt it. Look at Lord Palarian. Old masters have a funny way of hiding out for ages until the time is ripe for their return.”
Mara shrugged. “Still, we have to do all we can do to help. It’s far from over. Caisa could very easily win.” She glanced around as if checking to see if they were being overheard. “Do you trust these priests of Yavreel? One thing that struck me strange about this utopia: no citizens are leaving. In many ways, this world is a prison. They tolerate differences as long as no one leaves.”
“They let the Starwalkers leave, didn’t they?”
“For a reason, I imagine. To snare the Nameless and lure us to the world. Perhaps they let scouts go in order to bring more people here. Even traders can come, temporarily. But you heard the high priest. All entrances into this world are guarded or set with traps. They try to funnel everyone through the temple. But with all those horrors guarding the temple, how could anyone leave other than the ones the priests allow? Something here is very wrong, I can feel it. Don’t give me that look, Talis. You know I’m right.”
“Being right doesn’t give us a way out of this situation, does it? We have to trust someone, at least temporarily. If we have to negotiate with the devil to win our freedom, then so be it. But at the end of the day, we’re stuck here all alone on this world, without an ally.”
An idea seemed to come to Mara all at once. “We need to find Jared. He’s the only one I believe we can trust right now. Let’s find him.” She glanced at Talis’ backpack.
He shrugged, realizing she might be right, and withdrew the Surineda Map. After unfurling it, he commanded the map to show the location of the Starwalker.
“There,” Mara said, and pointed off at a building in the distance. “It’s not that far from here.”
After a short walk through the city, they found themselves staring up at a huge building with granite pillars and a frieze of chariots in motion and gods and goddesses at play with mythological creatures. This was the place. They opened the carved wooden doors and found the entrance cluttered with books, stone tablets, and dusty, curled-up scrolls. It was a library of sorts. There were marble statues set within many alcoves, with magical silver lights shining down on them. White-robed librarians strode through the place, collecting scrolls and books. They shuffled toward stairs and down hallways into various rooms.
Talis followed the map into a stairwell down several flights until they broached the entrance of a room filled with Starwalkers. They were dressed in their silky silver robes. They turned their bull eyes toward Talis and Mara as they entered, clearly surprised to see them. Talis recognized a few of those gathered including Jared and Selana.
“The traitorous children have arrived. How did you find us?” Selana asked, and narrowed her gaze in suspicion. “We asked the priests that we not be disturbed.”
“I didn’t ask anyone for permission.” Mara gave the woman a sarcastic look. Charna padded into the room, purring, her whiskers twitching as she sniffed for food.
“Besides, we didn’t come for you.” Talis looked to Jared. “We need to talk. Can we go someplace private?”
The old Starwalker bowed his head and motioned them toward the door. Talis grabbed a plate loaded with haunches of roasted meat, causing Charna to yowl in anticipation. As they left the room, the other Starwalkers went somber, whispering amongst themselves. Talis ignored their harsh looks, knowing them loyal to Yavreel and the priests of the Origin World. He wondered why Jared even bothered with them at all.
When they were safely inside a nearby room, Talis closed the door and studied Jared. The starwalker’s silver robe glittered in the soft glow of lantern light. Talis realized at once how alien he was. His skin was too smooth and silky, like a painting, without a line or a wrinkle marring his cold face. It was easy to see how the Starwalkers were considered gods by many people.
“What happened out there? How did you manage to escape from Caisa?” Talis asked.
“There was an intense battle between the priests and soldiers of the Origin World and the others. I saw Caisa kill many of them, her strikes brutal and swift. There were burned bodies and blood everywhere.” Jared sighed, running a hand across his chin. “Selana led us down an alleyway while Caisa and the others were distracted by the fighting. It’s not like we ever had any reason to be loyal to her in the first place. Not like you and your friends.”
“You sh
ould know we have no desire to follow her. We are simply bound to our master, and he to her. If there was a way out, we would chase it down.”
Talis lowered the plate of food to the floor, inviting Charna’s eager attention. “Do you have an idea that might be of use for us to escape? Preferably one that won’t end up with us getting killed.”
“You’ll desire death compared to what you might find here on the Origin World.” The starwalker’s eyes turned dark and cold, empty of any human sentiment. “Now that Caisa is here, I’d suggest pleading to the priests to open a portal back to the sanctuary. You might yet survive. Forget about your oath of allegiance to your master. Break it, for the good of your souls.”
Talis shook his head. “I doubt the priests will let anyone leave this planet, willingly. Unless of course we become converts to Yavreel like Selana and the other Starwalkers. You also might end up spending the rest of your days here on this gray planet.”
“Not if I can help it.” Jared scoffed. “I’d sooner die than be trapped on another world for thousands of years. My time on Vellia was bad enough. I’ve come to enjoy the freedom of my people’s way of life. I’ll not be bound again.”
“Then death might be your only option.” Mara narrowed her eyes as if she were mulling over an idea. “You know, we are in similar situations. Neither of us wants to be here and we both want to return to the sanctuary. Why don’t we become allies and figure out a way out of here?”
“You do realize you both are still considered murderers under the law of the Starwalkers?” The man’s expression was a mixture of despair and anger. “If I were to form an alliance with you—and we managed to escape—I would be considered guilty of aiding criminals.”
“Just tell them you were bringing us back to justice. And if we happen to escape, then you could say things were out of your control.” Talis hoped he would listen to reason.
“I won’t say we are allied.” The starwalker’s black, bull eyes studied Talis with caution. “But I will work with you to devise a plan of escape. After we are free of this world—and free of Caisa—then you will have to fend for yourself. You have my promise that I won’t pursue any vengeance against you or your friends. I’m done with seeking revenge on behalf of the law. It’s what got us into this trouble in the first place.”
“You can say that again.” Mara gave the man a bitter look. “We would still be in Naru and you’d be safely enjoying your unfettered way of life. Pursuing revenge rarely brings the outcome you desire. It leads to death and broken lives.”
“It shows how little you know about leadership and responsibility.” Jared arched his back and let out a long exhalation. “Your immaturity is showing. Perhaps you should spend more time thinking about the rule of law and your duty to your people than escaping on your adventures. You are to be queen. Don’t shirk what is asked of you.”
With that the man opened the door, not bothering to give them a second look. His voice was cold and calm as he left. “Meet me at midnight and bring your ideas for our escape. I assume you will know how to find me? I have some serious thinking to do. I suggest you do the same.”
Talis turned to see Mara’s fuming face. She looked like she wanted to murder the man because of what he’d said. Talis remained quiet, knowing it was better not to give her cause to fight. Instead they left, returning to the streets, wandering the stalls and vendors, feeling intoxicated by the sights and smells. It was amazing how quickly life returned to normal once the fighting stopped. The long pause in conversation worked its magic on Mara, and soon Talis felt her hand on his shoulder.
“Am I really that bad?” Her eyes bubbled with newborn tears.
In that moment of tension and uncertainty, Talis felt she was so beautiful. Her once short hair had grown longer and now rested on her shoulders. She was vulnerable—fragile even—and he treaded carefully, not wanting to upset her.
“It’s not like I don’t want what’s best for my people. I do.” Mara paused a moment, her face reddening. “But the truth is, I don’t trust myself. Especially after I claimed the daggers. I feel like I’m cursed, Talis. And I don’t want to bring that curse to the people of Naru.”
“You’re not cursed.” He placed his hands on her arms, trying to capture her attention. But she looked down, ashamed. “I mean it, Mara. You’re not cursed. The Goddess Nestria listens to you, remember? If you were cursed that would be impossible. The Goddess must have a plan for your life. You need to believe that. And besides, everyone has things they have to deal with. I think you’re doing just fine especially compared to Rikar. He’s haunted by Caisa.”
Mara released a forceful exhalation. “I’m still very much haunted by the daggers. Every day, every moment they speak to me. I still have flashbacks of my time with Elder Relech. He turned me into a monster. I’m not normal, far from it. I see someone on the street and think how easy it would be to slice open their neck. The blood flows in my imagination. It’s so vivid and terrible. I’m constantly tracking people as if they were enemies, sizing them up, thinking forward to my next moves. That’s really screwed up. But I can’t help it. It’s who I’ve become. Is that how you expect a queen should be acting and thinking?”
“Maybe. Having foresight is a good thing for any leader. And being alert is important. The rest, well you can let it go—like releasing a breath. Can’t you?”
“You make it sound so easy.” She shook her head, exhaling forcefully. “It’s not. I’ll be brutally honest with you. I can’t get it out of my head. It’s like a compulsion, forcing me to kill. I think Elder Relech’s training and magic did something to twist my perspective. What’s forward is backward, and vice versa. I know it’s wrong, but it’s how I’m made.”
That sounded incredibly messed up to Talis, but he held his tongue. He refused to believe she was lost. The Goddess had a plan for her. He just knew it. “It’ll be alright, Mara. One day what happened will fade away like a bad dream.”
“A dream?” She scoffed. “I still wake up in the middle of the night from the nightmares. And now”—she spread her arms out wide—“I’m living in the nightmare. Maybe I should just follow my urges and stop resisting.”
“And what, start killing people? That’s insane, Mara. We’re not in a war.”
“Are you kidding me? Look around you. This place is about the closest thing to a nightmare you could find. If you started blaspheming the name of Yavreel, you’d find yourself facing an angry mob bent on murder. This is a war. Our lives have been a war ever since we encountered Aurellia and the Starwalkers.”
Talis reached to stop Mara, but something caught his attention: the sound of many boots clacking against stone. He pulled her aside so they were pressed against a wall. Charna pounced over to the shadows, her tail twitching in irritation. Talis’ heart raced as a company of soldiers dressed in woven steel armor and plumed helms raced past them. They were charging off toward the sound of explosions off in the distance, and the new smell of smoke.
20. The Sullen War
Rikar faced the squad of grim-faced soldiers and unsheathed his short sword, grinning. It had been awhile since he’d fought with the sword. He relished the thrill of melee combat. The blade, gained from the relic storehouse in the Starwalker sanctuary, filled him with eager power as he faced his enemies. The men were of middling age, scars and tattoos marking their faces, necks, arms, and legs. But their stature was far greater than regular men, standing at least a foot taller than the tallest man in Naru. They wore little armor other than to protect their torso and head. Muscles bulged underneath. The soldiers eyed Devonia with a hungry desire, as if she were a plaything not a Dragon.
“Here,” Devonia said, handing Rikar the short sword he’d given her. She flourished her hands in a practiced move he’d seen countless times before. Under the surprised gaze of the soldiers, her once long, smooth arms and legs transformed into the dull sheen of dragon scale. It covered her entire body in the tough protection that ignored the bite of blades and was immune to
many spells. Her hands changed into sharp claws—outstretched and ready to kill.
The soldiers took a step back, glancing at the hesitation on their comrades’ faces.
“She won’t bite,” Rikar chuckled, spinning his swords in a delicate twirl. “But she will scratch, I promise you.”
“We’ve battled many a dragon before. The kitten is nothing but a pet.” A surly-faced, balding soldier with a mean-looking scar along his neck opened his mouth to release a belly laugh. He seemed like the leader, as the other men looked at him with respect. “A creature that needs taming. She’ll soon change back into her girlish form, and then the fun will begin, won’t it, lads?”
“Nah, the fun starts now.” Another soldier, younger and unscarred, looked more vicious and deadlier than the first. He took a step toward Devonia as if anxious to begin the fight. “Let’s see those claws of yours, darling. I want to add them to my collection.”
It was an unfair fight, the twelve soldiers against the two of them, but Rikar wasn’t interested in fair odds. He’d murder these men one at a time for their insults and how they looked at Devonia. Magic wouldn’t be needed. He wanted to spill blood.
The young soldier came at him with a calm bloodlust in his eyes. Rikar, confident in the odds against one man, underestimated his opponent. At every thrust and parry of Rikar’s blades, the man countered and riposted, a ceaseless stream of strikes. They fought long and hard, evenly matched, until Rikar found himself winded. But the soldier didn’t stop to rest. He only grinned at Rikar’s heavy breathing. Under another barrage, Rikar did his best to counter, falling into a defensive position. But strike after strike came, until one broke through his guard and grazed along the side of his robe. How had he managed that? Another two inches and his kidney would have been impaled.
His opponent took a leisurely step back and gave a derisive snort. Rikar got a better look at him this time. He was shorter than the others though still far taller than Rikar. He wore banded leather armor and wielded a long, thin sword. A single emerald adorned the hilt. A plain silver necklace held a thick, metal ring.
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