The Reclaiming: The Keepers Saga: Volume Two

by Dillon McNaight

  Ethan then whispered to Ayden, “There is a woman tied up by the southern gate, but I don’t see signs of any other villagers. Do you think they are hiding in their homes?”

  “Hard to say,” replied Ayden, “but we will find out soon. First, we need to take out those last two Drykans quietly, as to not alert Krog. Once they are dead, we will make our move on the captain. Remember, we must take him alive and unspoiled, so no arrows.”

  “Why would you think that I would shoot our prisoner knowing that we need him alive?” questioned Nathian.

  “Because I know you,” said Ayden with a glare, “no arrows. Well, except for right now, take them out quickly.”

  Nathian sighed, and replied, “Will you make up your mind? First, no arrows, now, arrows, I can’t work under these conditions, I swear…”

  Ayden then slapped Nathian behind the head, and said, “JUST… just kill them.”

  Nathian laughed at Ayden’s frustration, and said, “As you wish, oh great leader.”

  He then prepared two arrows from his quiver, and sent them flying one right after the other into their chests. The guard on the left dropped immediately, for the arrow struck true, but the other did not. It hit the guard in the side, piercing his gut. He quickly reacted by breaking off the arrow, leaving the arrowhead still inside his liver, and pulled out his sword. As Nathian fumbled to prepare another arrow, Ethan decided to take action, and ran over to the guard. Just as the Drykan prepared to alert the captain, Ethan arrived, grabbed the guard’s left shoulder, and turned him back around to face him. Before the guard to cry out for help, Ethan took his dagger, and pierced it up through chin, and into his skull. The light instantly faded from the guard’s eyes, as Ethan grabbed him around the waist to help him quietly fall to the ground.

  Ayden then turned to Nathian, and smiled before saying, “Really? You’re going to let a teenager show you up?” Ayden laughed as he turned to stand up, and said, “So disappointed in you right now, so disappointed.”

  “Oh, shut up,” said Nathian, as he also stood up and walked over to the teen.

  Now that all of the guards were dead, it was time to take the captain Krog prisoner.

  Ayden motioned for them to lean in closer, and whispered, “Now, we do not know if he was alerted due to this one’s mistake, so he very well could be waiting for us to open the door, and send an arrow or something our way. Ethan, you will open the door quickly, and Nathian, you will draw back an arrow and aim it directly at his head, but you will NOT release. I will then command the captain to stand down.”

  “Wait,” said Ethan, “I hear him talking to someone.”

  The three of them then put their ears against the door to listen to the captain. They could barely hear him, but they did hear, “Is it done my Lady?”

  “He is not alone,” said Ayden, “we need to move now, on three, one… two…”

  On Ayden’s count, Ethan threw the door open and Nathian drew back an arrow. As the door opened, they saw the captain with his backed turned to them. Just as Ayden was about to yell for him to not move, a flock of pitch-black ravens flew from in front of the captain towards the three men. They ducked as the flock of ravens flew out of the room, and scattered into the night sky.

  Ayden immediately collected himself, and yelled, “DON’T MOVE KROG!”

  The captain of the Irondrake Army said nothing as he slowly turned around to face the captain of the Kain’s Guard.

  Ayden then yelled, “Down on your knees, and hands behind your head! DO AS I SAY!”

  Krog smiled as he put his hands behind his head, and dropped down to his knees. He looked tired and defeated. His hands and arms are covered in dried blood, and his armor is weather torn and battered. Ayden took a rope and rushed over to him. He took his hands and forced them behind his back, then tied them tight.

  “Now, get up you piece of dirt!” The captain hesitated to rise to his feet, so Ayden punched him in the face, and repeated, “I said on your feet!”

  Krog slowly stood, as Ayden forcefully led him outside the room.

  Once outside, Ayden kicked in the captain’s knees, forcing him to fall, and said “Don’t move! Nathian, check the homes and see if the villagers are inside.”

  “Will do,” said Nathian as he walked over to a nearby home.

  As he opened the door, he placed his hand over his mouth. Lying on the bed was a man and a woman with two small children, all dead. Their bellies were spilled open, and their necks slit. The young girl, barely five years old, was still holding on tight to a stuffed doll.

  Nathian walked out of the house, and yelled to Ayden, “They’re all dead!”

  Ethan ran over to the woman that was tied up, took his dagger, and cut the ropes that tied her hands together behind her back. As he did, the woman woke up and looked into Ethan’s eyes.

  She said in a soft and brittle voice, “Are you my guardian Angel?”

  Ethan gently wiped the blood from her face with a handkerchief, and said, “No, my Lady, I am no Angel, but you are safe now. No one can hurt you.”

  Just then, Krog started to laugh, causing him to spit up blood.

  Ayden walked over to him, grabbed him by the neck, and asked, “Why are you laughing scum?!”

  “Because, young Kain…,” said the Dragonkin captain as he continued to laugh, and spit up blood, “…you are here, so far away from the capital… and your King.”

  Ayden tightened his grip on Krog’s throat, and asked, “What are you talking about?” Krog coughed up more blood, so Ayden loosened his grip, and yelled, “Answer me!”

  “Tell me, young Kain,” said Krog, “how IS the King nowadays? He isn’t… sick… is he? Does his veins look like they have black tar running through them?”

  Ayden’s eyes grew wide as he released Krog’s neck, and stood up. Krog continued to laugh and choke up blood.

  Ayden then turned to Nathian and yelled, “NATHIAN! WE HAVE TO GET TO THE CAPITAL NOW! THE KING IS IN DANGER!” He then ran up to the woman, grabbed her by the shoulders, and asked, “My Lady, do you have horses?!” The woman didn’t say anything at first, so Ayden gently shook her and asked again, “My Lady… the horses, WHERE ARE THEY?!”

  “They… they are in the stables behind the western gate,” said the woman in a weak voice.

  “Ethan, the captain is in your hands now. Make sure that he gets to the capital… alive! We must leave now, I’m sorry to lay this burden on you.”

  Ayden and Nathian then left running towards the stables. Once there, they jumped on two horses bareback, and kicked them into a dead gallop towards the rest of the Kain’s Guard to alert them to the King’s danger, and make their way back to the capital.

  Back in Menethiel, King Daane sits on his bed inside the Royal Chambers. He is alone. His head is hanging down facing the ground. A few drops of wine drip out of the empty mug that loosely rests in his right hand. He then looks up. His eyes are nearly pitch black, and his skin is as white as snow. His veins are black, as if tar was running through them. He has no expression on his face, as if he was sleeping with his eyes open. He then slowly stands up, dropping the mug to the ground. He starts to walk towards the door, and once there, he opens it, and walks into the collapsed Throne Room. He grabs his crown, which is lying on the floor next to his throne, and places it on his head. He then walks over to where the door leading to the oval platform once stood, then through it. He continues until he reaches the railing. He stops for a moment, looks out over his city and the lands beyond. Still showing no emotion, he slowly and carefully climbs up onto the railing. A soft wind blows his wilting hair as he turns around to face his Throne… one last time. He then places both hands over his heart, and closes his eyes. He stands still for a moment, before allowing his body to fall backwards off the platform.

  CHAPTER 19

  THE LONG FALL

  There was not a cloud in the sky as the morning sun stretched its arms over the cold city of Menethiel. There are few people in the streets, for they mostl
y stayed within their homes to keep warm from the biting cold of the newly arrived winter, but there is one woman that left her home this morning. Her name is Rose, and she is the mother of three small children. Her youngest is only three months old, and is suffering from a mild fever. Her middle child is six years old, and growing thinner by the day as food supplies dwindle. Her oldest is ten, and nowhere to be found, for he had an adventurous spirit, always leaving the house unnoticed to see what mischief he could get himself into. Rose has just about had enough of her son’s behavior since they arrived back to their home from their long stay within the mines. This morning, her war-tattered husband sleeps in, as he often does these days. Meanwhile, Rose furiously puts on her only winter coat that survived the Drykan’s raid, and storms out the door of her lower level home. She follows her young son’s footprints in the freshly fallen snow, as they lead away from the house, and towards the inner wall of the city. Rose’s house rests directly below the high platform outside the Throne Room. The inner wall outside Rose’s home rises all the way up the many levels, making it the highest wall in the city. She continues to follow the footprints as she calls out his name, threatening to not give him dinner for a week. As she turns around the corner of her block, she looks up and sees her son standing still, facing the wall, with his back turned to her. She calls out his name, but he does not reply, or show any signs of hearing her. Again, she calls out his name as she walks closer. Just before she reaches him, her frustration reaching its peak, she stops suddenly, and everything around her becomes silent. The once white snow surrounding her oldest son’s feet was as red as a spring rose. In the few seconds that she is frozen in an instantaneous panic, she notices her son holding a bloodstained crown in his right hand. After she regains the ability to react, she rushes up to her son, and grabs him from behind. Before she can turn him around to face her, and examine his body for the source of the red snow, she again freezes in fear as she gazes down at the lifeless body of a man. Her son showed no expression on his pale white face, but cannot find it within him to peel his eyes away from the broken and mutilated body of a man he knew, but could not identify. Still frozen in her fear stricken state of immobility, she finally manages to rest her eyes on the man’s face long enough to recognize that the bloodied and broken body belonged to none other than the King of Kain. Once able to control her body and react, Rose lets out a blood curdling scream as she immediately places her hand over her son’s eyes, and turns his body away from the mutilation.

  The same streets that just moments ago where barren of any life slowly started to come alive as the people of Menethiel arose from their deep sleep to leave the comfort of their mildly warm homes to investigate the recently well-known sound of screaming. In one solid and uniformed motion, the people of Kain slowly approached the location that served as the source of the scream that could be heard throughout the capital. As they arrived at the woman cradling her eldest son, the people of Kain stopped and formed a semicircle around the body of a man that they slowly came to the realization belonged to their King, Daane. None of them said anything or showed any other expression on their faces, other than the one of utter disbelief. Through the ever-growing crowd of stunned men and women of Kain, a woman dressed in a silky white nightgown pushed her way through in her futile effort to reach the source of the commotion. As she reached the front of the crowd, she revealed herself to be the White Queen Kalorah. She also froze for a moment after she realized the identity of the man, but quickly regained her composure and rushed to pull the immobilized woman and her son away from the fallen King. She then turned back to gaze upon Daane’s body. His face is still, but his tar-filled eyes stare up towards the sky. Dried black tears remain from where the tar poured out of his eyes, and created a puddle under his head. The rest of his body is completely shattered from the long fall, covered only by a thin silk night robe. The once light brown colored robe is now soaked in his black tinted blood. She slowly approached his motionless body, and kneels in the deep blood-soaked snow. She closed her eyes as she softly forced the King’s eyes to close, then resting her palm on his ice-cold forehead. She whispered out a quick but sincere prayer to the gods for his soul, before she opened her eyes and stood to her feet, facing the crowd of silent Kain. With the bottom of her once silky white robes bathed in the King’s blood, she gazed upon the crowd of tragedy stricken Kain, but failed to find the right words to say. After a moment of silence, she prepared to speak, but failed to do so as the son of the King, prince Dathian, made his way through the crowd with his soon-to-be wife, Savannah, behind him.

  As he arrived at the decrepit body of his last living parent, the now orphaned young teen stopped as Savannah threw her hands up to cover her mouth in utter horrification. Everyone waited for the prince’s reaction, including Kalorah, who failed to say anything. Dathian said nothing, and showed no emotion to the site of his dead father’s body, but instead, turned to the small child holding the bloodied crown. Dathian slowly knelt in front of the startled child, and looked him in the eyes. Unable to utter anything, he gently placed his hand on the crown while the child reluctantly released his grip on it. Dathian then took the crown of the King, stood up, and walked towards his father as the ever-growing crowd of speechless Kain watched on.

  The young prince looked down to his father, and said out loud, “So… you finally did it. I hope you find peace wherever your soul travels to.”

  What the prince did next will forever be remembered amongst the people of Kain. The emotionless, yet solemn son of the King, slowly raised the bloodied crown, and as if chosen by the White Council, placed it upon his head. A small and not yet dried stream of the former King’s blood slowly and deliberately trickled down off the crown, and onto the teen’s forehead, and continued until it reached his eyebrow, redirecting itself to his right cheek, and continued until it reached its destination, leaving a trail behind. On the opposite side of the unapparent tragedy stricken orphan’s face, a solitary tear fell. There, the prince stood in front of his people, bearing the crown of the King. Traditionally, the King of Kain is determined by a collective vote of the three realms of Kain. However, the suffering people of Kain paid no attention to the sudden changing of the law, and looked upon the prince that none of them truly knew before the claiming of Kain. The small boy, that just moments before held the same crown, walked up to the prince, and as if he knew what to do more than the rest of the mature members of Kain standing behind him, knelt to one knee, and bowed his head. His mother soon followed suit behind her oldest son, as did the rest of the crowd of Kain in an almost orchestrated manner. Savannah controlled her emotions, walked over to her fiancée, and proudly wrapped her arm around his and stood alongside him, using every ounce of strength within her to not show the emotion that so desperately tried to escape from within.

  Dathian turned to Kalorah and looked not into her eyes, but her soul, sharing his pain, his sadness, and his strength. He was not asking for her permission to wear the crown of his recently departed father, rather asked for her help. He did not need to speak any words for the White Queen to fully understand him, and reluctantly accept his request. She walked over to the former King, and stood in front of his lifeless body. She held out her arms with her palms facing the cold winter sky. Her eyes began to illuminate with a familiar holy light as Daane’s body began to rise from its final resting place with his tattered blood-soaked robes wrapped around his broken body and face, shielding his self-mutilation from the world, and preserving his final moment with dignity. The concealed body drifted into the awaiting outstretched arms of Kalorah. As the body gently rested in her arms, she then revealed her beautiful wings. Savannah turned to look at Dathian for a sign of whether to turn and watch the Angel, or disregard the sight. Dathian continued to look ahead towards his knelt people, so Savannah followed his directive. The prince, now the assumed King of Kain, began to lead his Queen-to-be towards the crowd, demanding with his eyes for the people of Kain to divide, and allow a path through them, res
pectfully allowing him to retreat to the Royal Chambers to unravel the mystery of his father’s sudden and unjustified death. Kalorah’s long and silk-touched white hair was displaced by a soft and sudden breeze, covering her face and hiding the soft white tears that secretly fell from her light filled eyes. She then looked up, once again revealing her flawless and youthful face, and with one flap of her feathery wings, flew up towards where Daane fell from, landing softly onto the platform. She carried Daane’s levitated body through the broken doors into the Royal Chambers and gently laid him on the bed, knowing Dathian would soon arrive.

  The once silent crowd of on-looking Kain soon transformed into a gossip-filled mob, spreading rumors of the King’s cause of death throughout the capital. They threw around rumors such as suicide, while others suggested that he was murdered by an unknown assailant, and that the Black Dragon returned to finish him off. Whichever way the rumors spread, the common emotion among the Kain was that of shock and bewilderment. Many questioned the actions of the prince, and how he could so callously react to his discovery of his last remaining parent’s dead body, and towards the gruesome way it was discovered, displayed in the streets like a martyr. Dathian and Savannah retreated to the Royal Chambers, and requested that they were granted privacy from anyone who wished to enter through the gates. Word was sent to city leaders, as well as Malthius, the only remaining Keeper in the city, so that they may discover the reason for the King’s death… or murder. The city was put on high alert, and no one could enter or leave the city. Kalorah sent word to the Kain’s Guard that remained in the city to closely guard all the gates that led in or out of the city. The citizens of Menethiel were ordered to stay within their homes under the authority of the prince until they were advised otherwise.

  Dusk was vastly approaching as Ayden and Nathian, followed by the members of the Kain’s Guard that accompanied them on their search for the Drykan captain, galloped towards the southern gate of the city.