The Reclaiming: The Keepers Saga: Volume Two

by Dillon McNaight

  “Please… please let the Angel be wrong,” Ella said to herself as she took off her bag, and set it on the ground.

  She then took out a few supplies… the wooden bowl, a couple vials filled with different colored elements, and finally a kindle stone. She simultaneously poured out the two vials, one with a black powder, and the other with a coarse red sand, so that they blended together without needing to be stirred. Then, she took the kindle stone, as well as a deep and worried breath, and set spark to the sand. The two elements combusted instantly into flames as the Lore Master took a few steps back… to watch. The flames, though previously sporadic and uncontrolled, now floated upwards from the wooden bowl. The fire then separated into several smaller and more conformed flames, and began to form the image of a red tree. Ella waited as the tree made of the fire floated restlessly. Just as she started to hope for the outcome she wanted, the tree suddenly turned into white flames, and started to shrivel. One by one, the small white flames were extinguished, until there was nothing left but the dark night sky. Ella remained stoic for a moment, but then slowly dropped to her knees. Her worst fears have been confirmed.

  Once again speaking out loud, she said, “So it is true… the shades are close.”

  “They… are… more… close… than you… know…, young… child,” came a gravelly and ghostly voice from the darkness.

  Startled, Ella replied, “Who is there? I demand you show yourself!”

  As she spoke, she felt her breath turn to ice, and her body start to shiver. In all her knowledge and worldly experience, she has never felt the presence of such evil before. The wicked voice thundered around her, and seemed to penetrate her very soul, but she forced herself to challenge the fear that so desperately vied for her devotion.

  Ella continued as she conjured her courage, “I am NOT afraid of you demon, SHOW YOURSELF!”

  The shade did as he was commanded. Through the darkness, there was a sudden burst of gray light that momentarily blinded the Lore Master. Then, through the haziness of her blurred vision, she saw him. Archimus was revealed atop his undead drake, which was no longer a beast of the living or physical realm. The undead drake was now a shade of his own, void of solidity or being. It hovered in the night sky with his cloaked master on top. The drake’s shadowy body then slowly lowered itself to the ground with Archimus still atop. The very grass beneath their feet rotted away, then singed to an ashy end. The deathly presence, however, did not deter her.

  “You… are… not… what you… appear… to… be,” slithered Archimus as he studied the woman.

  Ella ignored his words, and instead, pulled out the two Runes from her bag. Taking one in each hand, the intricate markings on them began to illuminate in reds and blues. As she held them to each side of her, they quaked with power.

  “Fascinating…,” said the Shade Lord as he dismounted his drake and began to slowly hover towards her.

  Ella then spoke in the ancient and forgotten language of times past, “Var’doom crist’na qwen’vinte va’la’nur. Var’doom crist’na qwen’vinte va’la’nur!”

  Intrigued and slightly taken aback, the Shade said, “What… is… this… tongue… you speak…, sorcerous… of… Ela?”

  Concentrating harder, Ella continued with louder tone, “VAR’DOOM CRIST’NA QWEN’VINTE VA’LA’NUR! MAY YOUR DARKNESS BE VANQUISHED IN THE NAME OF HER!”

  The burning markings from the Runes then escaped their stone imprisonment and formed together into the fiery resemblance of Goldwing, and was sent cascading towards the Shade.

  Archimus smiled to himself as he repeated, “Fascinating… indeed!”

  As the conjured flames grew close, the Shade simply raised his hand, and dispelled them without thought or effort.

  “Your… efforts… are void…, for… none… can… stop… death…,” slithered Archimus as he revealed his scythe.

  Ella was in shock that her efforts were so easily bested, but she was not about to give up. She put the Runes back in her pack and took out the vial of black sand. Then she grabbed her necklace as she said, “We’ll see…” She then broke the necklace as its many Shadestone shards fell into her hand. The Shade raised his scythe as Ella threw the shards at him. As they grew close, they erupted into clouds of white energy, which temporarily froze the Shade in place. She then turned around and threw the vial of sand on the ground as she chanted, “Varda va’la nul, breth’na Velen heer!” As the vial hit the ground, the glass shattered, and the black sand instantly began to spiral. She knew the Shade would be immobilized for only a moment, so she had to escape quickly. The sand turned once more into a portal, this time showing a different place. She turned and looked at the Shade once more, struggling whether to stay and fight, or get to safety and find help. She knew she was no good to anyone dead, so she turned back around and rushed through the portal. As she vanished, the Shade was released from his temporary paralyses.

  Archimus was at first enraged, but then smiled as if to say, ‘well fought.’ “You… may… have… escaped… Ela witch, but… no matter…, for you… were simply… a distraction… to… a means. You… are not… what I… have come… for.” Archimus allowed his scythe to dissipate as he closed his eyes in concentration. Then, his thoughts echoed through the void, and they said, “Come… sweet child, come… to… my voice, for… your… new… master… awaits!”

  Back at the home of the Lore Master, in the room prepared for a guest, his voice entered only her thoughts. After a moment of silence, Savannah’s eyes suddenly opened as wide as they could, but were now covered in tar. She then obediently removed the covers and stood up with a dull and complacent look on her face.

  “Yes… my Lord.”

  CHAPTER 15

  THE ROAD TO WAR

  DAY ONE:

  A blinding splinter of light breaks through the small slits in the stone walls that serve as windows. The light brings with it the morning sun as it slowly rises over the horizon, signaling the time for the Kain’s Guard and the Golden Army to depart for the capital. It’s a two-day journey from Riverton as the crow flies, but they will not be taking this road. Instead, the Commanders have decided to take a longer road through the western foothills of the Kastus Mountains so as to have the element of surprise. There have been no signs of the Drykans moving through the less traveled road, so even though it will take an extra day, the White Queen and the others decided it was their best route to take. Not everyone, however, was preparing to leave.

  As the splinter of light pierces through the cell, it hits Ethan in the face, causing his closed eyes to close tighter. He rubs them as he sits up in discomfort from what little sleep he got on the stone hard floor. His vision sheds its nightly cloudiness as he focuses on his new friend, and accomplice to apparent treason, sitting in the corner staring at the wall.

  “Good morning,” said Ethan in a groggy voice.

  Dathian turned and looked at him with amazement and shock, and replied, “Good morning? Are you serious?!”

  “What?” asked Ethan defensively. “It’s just something to say, since you have had nothing to say since we were thrown in here!”

  Enraged, the prince replied, “And what exactly would you like me to say?! That I’m sorry?! Sorry that the White Queen betrayed us, sorry that my father threw us in jail for treason, or sorry that you no longer get to go fight the war you’re so DESPERATE to fight?!”

  Ethan stood and said back, “Look, I didn’t ask to be here, YOU did this! This is of YOUR doing, and blaming others isn’t going to help get us out of here!” Now speaking in a calmer tone, he continued, “And neither is yelling at one another.”

  Dathian also calmed his tone as he stood up and grabbed the steel bars of the cell, and said, “No, you’re right, this isn’t your fault, or anyone’s but mine. I should have never asked for your help. It’s just that… forget it.”

  Ethan walked over and sat down next to Dathian with his back against the bars.

  “You want to know why I agreed to he
lp you?” asked Ethan.

  Dathian looked down and replied, “Why?”

  “Because, with all the hatred and evil in the world, especially now, what’s the one thing that keeps us from becoming a part of it, consumed by it?” asked Ethan.

  Dathian shrugged, not really in the mood for an inspirational speech, and replied, “I don’t know… love?”

  “No, I am really asking, what’s the one thing? Because I’d love to know,” replied Ethan with a smirk. As Dathian cracked a smile, Ethan continued, “But seriously, there is no ‘one thing.’ There’s no inspiring speech or magical book that can give us all the answers. We have to discover them for ourselves… that’s why I said yes, because I didn’t have an answer for saying no. I know I’m not making much sense right now, but I had to try, ‘we’ had to try, because it was the right thing to do, even if it got us locked up for treason. Which, by the way, thank you for.”

  Dathian laughed softly as he turned and sat down next to his new friend.

  “You know, you’re really quite wise for your age,” said Dathian as he nudged Ethan’s arm.

  Sarcastically, Ethan replied, “Yup, that’s what they all tell me.”

  They both laughed, temporarily taking their stressed minds off the situation at hand, and their immediate reality. They are locked in a cell as the rest of Riverton travels to the outlying wall of the city to see off the Kain’s Guard and the Golden Army as they depart and venture north… to war. People of all sorts made their way to the massive stone wall that encircles the city. Little children run towards the many stairs that lead up to the wall, temporarily unguarded and allowed for public entrance, all carrying different toys. Some carried dolls they made that represent the Keepers, and some had wooden horses, dressed in their own homemade saddles. The adults carried makeshift banners of the Kain, and they were all dressed in their best. The women all had different bouquets of flowers, in which they threw down in the river as the armies walked past. People not only lined the outer wall, but also lined the road that runs north and out of Riverton. King Daane, Ayden, Nathian, as well as several other top Officers of the Kain’s Guard and its many divisions, led the charge. They were all dressed in gleaming silver-plated armor, known as their dress armors. They were much more elegant than their wartime attire, but a lot less practical and mobile. Traditionally, they were only worn during the departure to war. To their sides rode four bannermen, each carrying one of the seals of Kain. Behind them rode the Kain’s Guard in all its plenty. It took an hour just for the Guard’s ten thousand soldiers to pass through the city to the north road. Once they were done passing, the Golden Army engaged from outside the city, and followed behind. Krendweil and Glammdreing took to the skies and led a small party of Skyborns ahead of the armies to scout the lands around them. Alandra insisted on going as well, so she was given a spare Griffin to ride. It was much different than the giant eagle she was used to, though commanded just the same. Once they were sure the way was safe, they would head to the next rendezvous, with the first one being an ancient mountainside castle called Brithehallow.

  Twenty miles northeast of Riverton, at the top of one of the many towers of the castle, inside a large gourmet kitchen, stands a tall burly woman holding the half-cooked leg of a turkey. The sides of her head are shaved to the scalp, leaving a braided mangle of matted hair reaching her mid-back. Her face is void of any paint, and her clothes are of the simple variety. As she mows down on the turkey leg with disregard to manners, an exquisitely geared soldier walks into the kitchen wearing spit-shined plate armor.

  She temporarily pauses the mutilation of the turkey leg, looks at the soldier, and says with a sloppy mouthful, “What is it young man? Speak quickly, for you can clearly see that I am preoccupied at the present moment!”

  “Sorry to interrupt my Lady,” replied the nervous soldier, “but your presence is requested on the wall.”

  She then abruptly threw what was left of the leg at the soldier and said, “How many times have I told you NOT to call me Lady?!”

  “Sorry,” muttered the soldier, “I mean Kat, they need you at the wall, the Dragonkin are coming!”

  She almost got a slight twinkle in her eyes as she smirked, and replied, “Excellent. Have my armor readied in five minutes, and summon the rest of the guards. I want the nets and blaster arrows loaded and ready to fire in no more than ten!” As she walked over to him and picked up the turkey leg, which she barley brushed off before sticking it in her awaiting jaws, she yelled, “Did you NOT hear ME?! GO!”

  “Yes, sorry Kat, right away!” exclaimed the soldier as he ran off to make the proper delegations.

  After first being geared in an unspectacular set of old armor, the abnormally large and muscular woman the soldier referred to as Kat, whose face is severely scarred on one side, headed straight for her humble quarters at the ground floor of the stronghold by the stables. Hanging on the wall behind her worn out bed, rested two blades that did not share in the lack of uniqueness as the rest of her. The two gleaming weapons bore double-sided blades with expertly woven leather hand grips. The blades were long and curved, with each blade bending clockwise. With the two identical weapons, Kat had four blades at her mercy. They are sharp enough to slice a tomato without bruising the skin, and they are as light as a small single-handed sword. Before she took the blades off the wall, she strapped on a special sheath behind her back where the weapons would sit crossed like an X, ready to be unholstered. Once ready, she then made her way to the stairs that walked up the hundred-foot-tall wall, which completely enclosed Brithehallow and its many towers.

  Nestled at the feet of the Kastus Mountains, Brithehallow is one of the oldest castles in all of Kranos. The massive stone castle was built roughly six hundred years before the Separation by a wealthy family of the Kain, known as House Kavalan. In the centuries prior to the Separation, family names were much more important, as well as blood lines and family hierarchy. Social status also played a major role in one’s advancement in life. House Kavalan gained their riches and economic power from the Sunrock trade. Their family was one of the first to sign a trade treaty with the Clauggs back in the early ages of Kranos. They only strengthened their bloodline and political status over many centuries. It wasn’t until the Kain started migrating further and further south that the Kavalans decided to capitalize on their success. They wanted to be at the forefront of the southern migration, and decided to purchase a vast amount of land southeast of Mount Karnith, fifty thousand acres to be exact. They then sold parcels of land at fifty percent the average cost, with the requirement that twenty percent of their harvests went to the House Treasury. Soon their territory became more and more populated, which began their highly profitable farming economy. It wasn’t soon after that they decided to relocate their family run operation south, and out of Menethiel. They then established their central stronghold and named it Brithehallow.

  The castle consists of over twenty structures, all varying in sizes and heights, yet all connected at the same time. The tallest tower, which rose to almost three hundred feet, stood at the center of the castle, and housed the highest members of House Kavalan. The ruling of the house moved down the line in order of succession, bearing many Lords and Ladies, depending which was next. The entire castle took over fifty years to complete. A little over a hundred years after its completion, a Drykan Overlord by the name of Lorkath attacked and destroyed the Riverborn Strong’s stronghold of Riverton. Most of the ruined city’s refugees fled to the castle, where they were wholeheartedly accepted. The rest preferred the capital, and escaped to Menethiel. Soon after, Brithehallow housed the massive army that marched on Kuul’Drathor, but the Kain did not win the battle. They retreated to nurse their wounds. Some stayed in Brithehallow, but most returned to Menethiel. A hundred years went by before Riverton was rebuilt, and once again served as the central stronghold in the south. As the Kain evolved politically and economically, the high family status began to weaken, and the many Houses no longer held power.
The three Commanders of the Kain were now selected democratically by the people, and bloodlines no longer mattered. Through all the thinning of bloodlines over the many centuries before and after the Separation, House Kavalan’s line held strong, until about the fifth century after the Separation. Although the rights to Brithehallow still lawfully belonged to the correct heir, the castle was run by elected members of Kain, who didn’t have to belong to the bloodline. However, shall the rightful heir desire to stake their claim on the castle and the surrounding territory that belonged to it, then the elected member that currently ran it would have to resign. No one in the last one hundred years has yet to stake their claim. If fact, there is only one woman who knows who the rightful heir is and possesses the documentation to prove it, and that woman is the most important woman in the south… the Mother herself, Evelyn. The identity of the heir however, is not important at this time, for Brithehallow is about to be attacked by the Dragonkin.

  Once the barbaric-looking woman reached the top of the stairs, she walked to the center of the towering wall. To her sides stood a hundred extremely skilled and deadly soldiers. Around twenty archers were ready to fire their special arrows called blasters. They held a small charge of explosive powder, the same powder used in breakers. They are able to time the igniting of the fuse before firing so that the arrow is already inside its victim before it ignites, setting off a small explosion. The deadly explosion can bring down the largest drake if its aim is true enough to penetrate their thick hides. There is five special catapults on the wall that shoot a large spinning net intended to tangle up their victim to buy the rest of the catapults enough time to shoot a large iron hook connected to a long thick rope secured to the wall. The castle has a long history of attacks from a mountain clan of Drykans that believe the castle is in their territory, and should rightfully belong to them, but that is a story for another time. What we know, is that there were certain precautionary steps taken to ensure the castle’s survival. In other words, they are ready for whatever attack may come from the Drykans.