Heir of the Elements

by Cesar Gonzalez

  “Die!” yelled Dunn. His stubby body dashed across the grass and he threw himself through the air. “Piercing flames!”

  A shrill scream reverberated from the mass of attacks, sending Dunn flying, head first into a tree trunk. He crumpled down. Like Rykas, he remained unmoving.

  The earth and mind masses of energy dissipated, leaving behind a bored-faced Volcseck.

  There is no way! How could he have walked away unscathed?

  “The quality of wielders has gone done considerably throughout the years.” Volcseck’s monotone voice only served to further anger Falcon. How he yearned to hurt him and wipe away his calm demeanor. Despite his vengeful thoughts, the reality that Faith needed his energy him forced him to remain in place. “You two are recognized as some of the more esteemed wielders of this era, and like many others, I must declare myself…” He took a long breath, letting silence dangle in the air. “Disappointed.” The chaos wielder turned to the general. “You there. Those earth teleportations you’re so fond off are nothing but a cheap imitation of chaos.”

  Kaidoz did not seem amused by Volcseck’s claims. “Don’t flatter yourself. This skill is something I took from space wielders and made it my own.”

  “Who do you think space wielders took it from?”

  “Enough talk.” Kaidoz clapped his hands. “You may have impeded my movements last time, but with the focus the grandmaster is providing, you won’t be able to stop me this time.” Just as Kaidoz had said, he clapped his hands and dissolved in a mist of dust. The dust swirled toward Volcseck. It closed in around Volcseck and hardened around his arms.

  Despite being rendered immobile, the chaos wielder did not seem the slightest bit worried. His lips, the only things that could be seen under his cloak, remained closed, with no sign of struggle or pain.

  A moment later, Falcon saw why. Volcseck snapped his fingers. A ripple of power burst from the man. The earth around him crumpled to the floor, taking form of the general. Kaidoz lay on the floor. A gurgling sound filled his mouth as blood gushed out. “Hhhhow diiiiid yo…u?”

  “The power of chaos isn’t one for the likes of you to comprehend.” With that, Volcseck brought his boot down on Kaidoz’s neck. The sound of bones snapping and a man whimpering his last breath followed. Volcseck turned his attention to the elder man. “I had the privilege of dueling and killing your apprentice, General K’ran. It will bring me great pleasure to end your life as well.”

  The mere mention of K’ran, his adoptive father and master, being mentioned by that monster made Falcon’s insides boil. How he wished to join in the fray. One look at Faith, however, and he saw that leaving her was not an option. Despite her closed wounds, her body was in an inner struggle, her cells desperately trying to make up for the blood loss. His energy was the only thing keeping her in this world.

  Zoen did not say a word. He was wheezing. His posture was more hunched than usual. With a determined look, he stood a little straighter. His eyes closed and he mumbled under his breath.

  “Those chants don’t work on me, Grandmaster. I ascended over such paltry powers long ago.”

  Bursts of ripples that seemed to bend the air shot from the Grandmaster’s forehead, and despite Volcseck’s confident words, he found himself staggering back after they both passed through him. Falcon followed the ripples through the air as they turned around and came back toward their target.

  Volcseck teleported out of view. Whooshing loudly, both ripples spun in circles, awaiting the emergence of their target.

  When Volcseck once again reappeared beside the earth coffin that held Latiha, the attacks rained down at them. The chaos wielder opened a dark circle in front of him. The attacks turned tightly to avoid it, but it was too late. The circle sucked in both attacks and closed before they could escape.

  Zoen blinked away his obvious shock. “You sent the mind arrows to another dimension? That goes against the very rules of nature, chaos wielder. There is no saying where they may end up.”

  “I suppose you better be more careful what you throw at me, then. Wouldn’t want one of your powers hurting an innocent bystander, would we?”

  Falcon could see that Zoen was running on fumes. Everything from his ragged breaths to his sweaty forehead pointed to the extreme energy consumption he was using in order to keep up with Volcseck.

  No! Falcon screamed from within as the man he hated the most closed in on the grandmaster, a dark sword with red cracks spread throughout had materialized in his hand. His heart went icy as Zoen fended against a multitude of sword attacks. Volcseck appeared and disappeared from every angle, cutting deeply everywhere on Zoen’s body. His face, legs, arms, chest. Everything was fair game.

  Two long, white hands erupted from Zoen’s back, reaching for the man who was inflicting damage on their master. They were too slow, and all they managed to grasp was air as Volcseck danced around them, always a step ahead of them.

  The hands stretched. Volcseck duck under them and ran his sword up. The weapon arched upward and into Zoen’s stomach and chest.

  With a low “Oh,” Zoen tumbled to the floor, his face staring at the sky.

  Volcseck brought his dark boot down on his vanquished foe’s bleeding chest. “Any last words, grandmaster?”

  “Leave him alone!” screamed Falcon. His eyes burned with the threat of oncoming tears. How much more could Volcseck take from him?

  “You may have run from Aadi while he was in Va’siel.” With a resolved look, Zoen turned to Falcon. “But the legacy that the Golden Wielder left behind will catch up to you before this is over.”

  Even though Zoen did not say his name, Falcon knew he was speaking about him.

  “Misplaced faith won’t save you, grandmaster.” Volcseck brought his sword up and ran it through Zoen’s neck. The old man seemed to smile as the light went out of his eyes. There was no scream, no shout of pain. Only a haunting silence.

  Falcon stared at his master’s face, frozen in shock.

  “Stand aside, young wielder. It is time for me to claim my prize.”

  “You’ll have to get through me if you want to get to her.” Falcon knew that despite the finality in his voice, Volcseck would not be fazed by his claim. But he also knew he had to try everything and anything to save his friend.

  “That will be no problem.”

  “Leave…Falcon,” stuttered Faith in a faint voice. “There is nothing you can do.” Her eyes snapped open. “Leave me.”

  “No!”

  “This is all so very touching.” Volcseck’s boots crunched over the sand as he took a few more steps toward them, bringing with him the scent of death. “Leave it to a holy wielder to throw away her life for nothing.”

  His words seemed to have woken up Faith, because her eyes suddenly opened and she stared directly at Volcseck. “Did you forget that it was through holy that you live today?”

  “What nonsense are you spewing? I owe nothing to holy. I’m the master of chaos, the one true element that all others cower before.”

  “Yet, you would have died from the injuries you sustained ten thousand years ago at the hands of Demetrius. It was the Lunet’s interference that kept you alive. You owe everything to holy, whether you like it or not, and by extension you are a product of the love from that holy wielding.”

  “Love,” Volcseck answered, and he took a moment to submit the rest of his thought. “That is an emotion I know nothing about nor do I care to comprehend.”

  “Liar!” Falcon was surprised to hear Faith speak with such force, despite her obvious weakness. “Lunet loved you! That is why she kept you alive. She believed in you. She knew you were meant to be a force of good, not evil.”

  “Look around you, holy wielder.” Volcseck pointed at the deceased men that lay on the ground. “Is this the love you speak so fondly off? You are highly misguided if you actually think that I have love inside of me. I love no one, not even myself. All I feel, all I know is a lust to end this miserable world and all the wicked who inha
bit it. I’m tired of the suffering that plagues mankind. I am the savior that will put an end to it. And you, holy wielder, are the key to it.”

  Falcon’s mouth opened at the sheer impudence spewing out of Volcseck’s lips. “You speak of wicked people as if you were so righteous. It is you that has caused more suffering through Va’siel than anyone else in history. You killed my parents.”

  “That’s of no importance. Your parents were in the way of the ultimate salvation. They had to be cleansed.”

  “You killed my parents so that you could rule Va’siel?” Falcon’s heart thumped with nervousness, but strangely, he felt no anger toward Volcseck. He should want to hate him and rip him apart limb by limb. Faith’s holy energy that leaked into him made it impossible, though. Her power relaxed him, giving him focus despite the precarious situation. He knew what he needed to do. He had to keep talking, dragging the conversation enough so that Faith could heal and he could space wield them away to safety.

  Volcseck met his gaze. “Rule Va’siel? Haven’t you been listening? I have no desire to rule anything. I am Va’siel’s savior, not its ruler.”

  “What do you mean?” As he asked the question Falcon knew he was out of time. The chaos wielder moved in with a fierce determination. The man had obviously caught on to his ploy. “Please don’t kill her. She’s suffered enough. She doesn’t need any more.”

  “She will no longer feel any pain where she’s going.”

  Falcon watched in horror, and time itself seemed to slow down as Volcseck lifted his sword and ran it toward Faith’s heart.

  Chapter 23

  It took Falcon a moment to realize that time slowing down wasn’t in his mind. Time really had slowed down! Volcseck’s sword moved in slow motion, and Faith was opening her eyes at a snail’s pace.

  He recognized it as space force, the ability to put unnatural levels of gravity around a person or a group of persons, making it nearly impossible to move. Who is causing this? Sheridan was the first person who came to mind. The thought quickly left him though. His Rohad friend was a gifted wielder, of that there was no doubt, but there was no way he could space force someone of Volcseck’s ability.

  He only knew of one more space wielder.

  Volcseck seemed to recognize the culprit as well. He took a step back as his speed returned to normal. “Why do you hide yourself, Ghost Knight?”

  A loud boom echoed through the air as a ripple formed before them. Out of it emerged the wielder clad in white and gold slim armor. The same imposing white cape he had worn the last time Falcon had seen him was draped behind him. The knight’s head jerked from Zoen’s corpse to Faith and then to Falcon. From behind the visor Falcon scarcely made out a determined gaze.

  “I have no words for you, knight. So I will make this quick.” Volcseck’s sword swooshed through the air. A long spear that appeared in the Ghost Knight’s hand met the attack. The spear shot down, bringing the sword down with it. The knight used the opening to sweep in with his leg. Volcseck dodged it and countered with an elbow to the face.

  The visor shattered as the knight staggered back. Still in motion he shot a volley of small meteors from his hand, only to have them easily swiped away by his opponent.

  There was a burst of a red glow beside Volcseck. It moved toward the Ghost Knight.

  The space wielder opened a portal before him, and the attacks moved straight in. Another portal opened behind Volcseck. Too late did the chaos wielder realize his mistake. He turned with barely enough time to react as his own attacks rammed him from behind. His body took on a U form as the red glow dug into his lower back. His hands flailed and with a loud grunt he fell face-first to the floor.

  Falcon felt a surge of excitement. He’d never heard of anyone even come close to landing a hit on Volcseck, yet here he was, flat on his face eating grass. Better yet, Faith’s strength had returned. She was no longer relying on his energy, which meant he could join the fight against Volcseck.

  Volcseck stood. “No more games.” Despite the blow that he’d been dealt, he retained his usual calm tone, and Falcon was left wondering if he had celebrated a little too soon.

  “Agreed,” said the Ghost Knight, matching Volcseck’s placid tone.

  Falcon stood behind the knight, ready to join the fray.

  The Ghost Knight did not seem to want his assistance, though. He held out his hand. “Step back, Falcon. They need you more than I do. Get them far from here.”

  “But—”

  “Don’t argue. You did enough of that when you were younger. You’re no longer that child. Stop talking and listen to me.”

  What is he talking about?

  “As for you,” said the Ghost Knight. He turned his attention back to Volcseck. “When you attacked my village and murdered my parents I had not yet awoken my space wielding. I tried to fight you back then, but you tossed me aside and killed my father, Anson, before my eyes.”

  Falcon staggered back. Anson? Anson is my father.

  The Ghost Knight pressed on. “So today your opponent will not be the Ghost Knight, the space wielder. No. Today you duel Albert, the wind wielder.” With a blinding flash the white and golden armor disappeared, replaced by a simple green tunic and trousers. The white cape had altered to a green cape held fast by brown trimmings. He donned dark boots and gloves. What surprised Falcon most was his face. He had seen the Ghost Knight unmask himself once. In that moment he had come face to face with a square face, light gray eyes, and raven-black hair swept back behind his head in a series of waves. The face that he looked at now was totally different. It was the face of his brother, albeit a bit older. He had the same slender nose, same light tan skin, same curled eyelashes, and the same wavy brown hair he recalled from all those years ago.

  “Since you fight me with no mask...” Volcseck reached for his hood. “I shall do the same.”

  Falcon stood in awe at the sight. He had expected an elderly, wrinkled man with saggy skin. Volcseck was none of this, however. He looked as young as he had in the image he had seen with Demetrius. His raven-black hair fell back evenly. His handsome features were those of a man who had lived no more than twenty-five seasons, not ten thousand.

  “You’re not well,” said Faith behind Falcon. She caught him as he fell back. His head was reeling with too much information. The day had started like any other, and now here he was face-to-face with Volcseck and Albert, the two people he had spent half a lifetime searching for. What could he do? What could he say? It was all too much for him to take in.

  He was still lost in his shocked mind when Volcseck made a dash at Faith. Albert met Volcseck’s sword with his spear. Their weapons clashed with a thunderous crack, as the energies of both wielders converged in a single spot.

  “I told you to get them out of here!” ordered Albert, this time more forceful than before.

  Falcon snapped back to reality. Albert was doing his part. Now he had to do his. He opened a rift in space and jumped in, taking Faith and the fallen warriors with him. They emerged atop a high cliff. The lifeless bodies of Zoen, Rykas, and Dunn came out first, followed by Faith and Falcon. The unconscious Queen Latiha was the last to be pulled through. With Kaidoz gone, she was out of her prison, but she had yet to wake.

  “She’ll be fine,” said Faith, examining the empress.

  Falcon nodded, embarrassed to say that the empress’s safety was the last thing on his mind. From up above, he witnessed the tremendous duel taking place in the valley below.

  The two wielders met time and time again, their speed so fast that it was near impossible to follow, especially at such a long distance.

  A scream drowned in Falcon’s throat when Volcseck managed to take hold of Albert’s spear and snap it in half. He was certain that that would spell the end of his brother. Albert, however, grabbed the incoming sword with his hand and, infusing his elbow with wind, broke the chaos wielder’s weapon in pieces as well.

  Falcon took a breath. His gaze dropped down to the grandmaster. He had
lost so much today. Was he going to lose his brother too now that he had just gotten him back?

  “Don’t worry,” said Faith, hugging him tightly. “He can do this.”

  Despite her words of assurance, doubt dripped from her voice. They both knew that Albert was locked in a duel to the death against a man who had never known defeat.

  Falcon held his breath as his brother kicked the air. Visible arched green gusts of wind shot from his feet.

  Volcseck threw his arms up above his head. A red wall that had to be over twenty feet high rose into the air. The wind arched around the wall and continued on to its target.

  This time Volcseck fired purple energy arches of his own. The green and purple attacks met in a frightful display of flames and fireworks. Is he mimicking his attacks?

  Falcon’s eyes narrowed, and he noticed a slight green glow emit from above his brother’s head. A clear liquid fell over his head, almost as if were a waterfall of wind energy. Then he took off in a sprint, throwing himself into the air and flying straight, head on, at the wall.

  The way he glided, suspended through the air, reminded Falcon of an arrow that had been fired to fly straight and true. Except, no arrow moved at this speed. His brother was shooting so fast that the ground behind him shattered in his wake, lifting up rock and deep-rooted plants alike. He blew past the wall with ease.

  Volcseck teleported. Albert seemed to have predicted this, because he rounded in a tight turn and blew back from where he had come. No sooner had Volcseck reemerged when Albert slammed into his chest. The tip of the waterfall above his head hit as if it were the end of an arrow. The chaos wielder grunted as he rolled across the ground until his flailing body crashed into a tree. The trunk splintered in a dozen places with the force.

  Amazingly, Volcseck got to his feet in an instant. His skin turned a deep dark brown, and his skin wrinkled. His eyes were dark pits now. Even from afar Falcon made out the glow of crimson intensity.