The Chronicle

by David F. Farris

  The platform screamed as it mustered up the strength for movement. Slowly, its speed increased, causing the corridor to blur around them. The last image Bryson caught before vanishing was the look of spite in Lars’s eyes. As the general, that man wanted nothing more than to fight on his kingdom’s behalf. But after his cowardly display during the last mission, the king no longer trusted him. Lars probably wanted to redeem himself, but he’d never get the chance.

  As the murky shadows morphed into a streaking bright blue, cold air stung Bryson’s face. He was glad he had heeded Olivia’s warnings. Otherwise, his entire body would have succumbed to such frigid temperatures. Because of his body’s already chilly nature, he had been convinced that he wouldn’t need scarves, beanies, or excessively heavy coats.

  As the platform slowed, he began to make sense of their new environment. The Still Mountains and the Diamond Sea’s infinite expanse didn’t catch his eye first—it was the hodgepodge army that circled them. Stillians in powder blue, Devish in burgundy, Powish in jet black, and even a smattering of Cynnish in gray had all turned their attention to the strangers.

  Bryson, Olivia, Vuilni, and Toshik jumped into ready stances, facing four separate directions, while Vistas and Jugtah sunk toward the ground at the center of the platform. Bryson rolled his eyes at Jugtah’s reaction. Why he had ever expected the man to be much of a fighter was beyond him.

  “We will kill you without warning!” a soldier shouted. “Why have you foolishly stumbled into the Still Kingdom, territory under watchful eye of SCAPD?”

  “We offer a proposition for Still Queen Apoleia. We would like to gain her audience!” Titus said.

  Silence swept over the area, interrupted occasionally by a howling wind. While the brave adventurers stirred uncomfortably, the army stayed eerily still. After a long moment of nothing, pillars of ice and blades bore down on the group. These soldiers were not inclined to negotiate. Bryson started to duck, freezing mid-crouch as a wall of ice enclosed their teleplatform. The wall rang and echoed violently. Bits of the barrier crumbled around them. Such a defense would last no longer than five seconds, especially if the Powish decided to punch their way through. The ruckus ended abruptly, however.

  “Let me speak,” Titus said, the barrier melting into nothing. He stepped off the platform and onto the ice-capped sea. “I am Titus Finilguster. I was sent to the Intel Kingdom well over a year ago under orders from the Still Queen herself. I was to serve as a spy for SCAPD against True Light. I now return with six key players from our opposition who wish to speak with our queen. They mean her no harm, for they understand that nothing would come of malicious actions whilst this deep in enemy territory. Lock them up if you must; they are willing to oblige.”

  Laughter rang from the army that circled them. Understanding the insanity of this plan, Bryson had expected such a reaction. The laughter carried on for some time until a lady stepped ahead of the crowd, her brown hair coated in frost. Her presence seemed to suck all amusement from the air.

  “Warden Moroza,” Titus said. “Do you not have duties to uphold at Ipsas?”

  Bryson’s eyes widened. She was a colleague of Power Warden Feissam. Scanning the faces behind her, he wondered if any of them could have belonged to Diatia.

  “What is this, Titus?” she asked as she began to circle them. Her eyes narrowed and head tilted, taking notice of who stood behind Titus. “Are those Queen Apoleia’s kids?”

  “We want an audience with Apoleia,” Titus said.

  Without averting her eyes from Bryson and Olivia, she replied, “I don’t care what your history is with our queen; you will address her properly when in my company.”

  “Look, it is of paramount importance that we make it to Kindoliya.”

  “And that isn’t happening,” she replied. “In fact, none of you will be going anywhere—not with a pulse at least.”

  Bryson stepped off the platform. Titus extended his arm, barring off Bryson’s chest. “Stop it. They hate you more than anyone.”

  Bryson ignored him and addressed the warden: “I want to reconnect with my mother.”

  “Don’t you call her that,” Moroza hissed, the gentle nature of her tone vanishing into thin air.

  “Mendac is the most disgusting man I’ve ever known to exist,” Bryson said. “I want nothing to do with him. I want to embrace my Stillian roots.”

  “You are not one of us,” she spat. “And you have nothing to offer.”

  “Who does Queen Apoleia love more than anyone else besides her sister?” Bryson asked. The woman didn’t respond, but continued to scowl. “Her father,” Bryson answered himself. “I want to make up for the evil deeds my dad did in this kingdom. One of those was paralyzing Gennaio Still.”

  Titus’s grip on the front of Bryson’s coat softened. The Jestivan continued. “The queen would do anything to hear her father’s voice again, to share a walk in the palace and its ground. This is our offer. This is why we’ve come. We can cure Gennaio’s paralysis.”

  A long pause followed, during which Warden Moroza’s expression hardened. She then said, “You claim to work miracles.”

  Bryson looked back, yanking Jugtah from the stage, as Titus explained, “Mendac methodically fried Gennaio’s nervous system with an intricate bit of weaving using his Intel Energy, but we believe there is a way to reverse it. It’s been documented that such a feat has been achieved before. This man’s name is Nyemas Jugtah. He studied in the same field as Mendac and is an elite theoretical scientist. He believes he can reboot Gennaio’s nervous system.”

  The warden grinned. “Intelians are insane. And clearly, Titus has become infected by such insanity.” Her smile turned into something sinister as her teeth morphed into jagged rows of icicles, unnaturally stretching her mouth; her fingernails grew into monstrous talons of ice—each one the size of a hunter’s blade—and three frozen tails extended from her back, curling above her and pointing at Bryson.

  “We will make it to Kindoliya,” Bryson said, unaffected by her intimidation tactics. “With or without your blessing.”

  “I believe that was your father’s thought process when he raped my queen,” she replied. “It appears the apple didn’t fall far from the tree.”

  A tail lashed out, extending toward Bryson in the blink of an eye. With a surge of electricity from his finger, he shattered it effortlessly across the frozen sea. She lunged forward, simultaneously swiping at him with her claw. Leaning to the left, he dodged the attack with ease. Anchoring one tail into the Diamond Sea’s surface, she swung herself around, launching another tail at Bryson. He destroyed the tail again as Moroza pressed forward, her mouth open and icicle fangs bared.

  Bryson was too fast. He caught her face with one hand, the force of the collision enough to break a few of her frozen teeth. As she hung in his outstretched grasp, her feet dangling above the ground, silence swallowed the area. Part of him wanted to break every bone in her face. The SCAPD army probably predicted him to do exactly that.

  Dropping her gently to the ground, he let go of her face. Coating his hand in electricity, he rid his palm of the frost that had accumulated from the warden’s breaths.

  As he looked into her livid eyes, he said, “I have no desire to kill you—or any Stillian, for that matter. We want to create a relationship with your kingdom. But if you force my hand, I’ll have no choice.”

  Her jaw was clenched, her pride wounded. It hadn’t been his objective to belittle anyone through his actions, but he had to protect himself.

  “You’ll escort us to Kindoliya,” Titus said.

  “You know your way there,” Moroza said. “You don’t need me.”

  He nodded. “True, but we need to keep you in our eyesight. Who knows who you’d run off to tell.”

  She snarled. “Look around. You see the soldiers in burgundy, correct? There are Devish all around you. Dev King Storshae has probably already been alerted.”

  “These are infantry, not intelligence personnel.”


  “You can go ahead and assume that.”

  Titus gave a quick look around before saying, “Anyone who isn’t Stillian must also head to Kindoliya with us. Only the soldiers sporting blue will stay here. Once we speak with the queen, I believe she’ll send word back here for her men and women to stand guard against any possible threats—which includes current allies.”

  After a few seconds of silent defiance, Bryson said, “My friends and I will make quick work of anyone who doesn’t comply.” Still, nobody budged, so Bryson offered an alternative means of communication.

  A bolt of lightning fell from the sky, snapping eardrums and blinding everyone with its blue flash. As people regained control of their senses, they gaped at the impossible scene before them. The Diamond Sea’s ice-capped surface had been broken. The lightning had penetrated six feet of ice, revealing water below.

  24

  Power Moves

  Toono approached Reikon Gate from the east. And even from this distance, he noticed the town’s desertion—or at least what looked to be the case. As he began walking through the town’s cobblestone streets, he realized that civilians had simply bunkered themselves into their homes.

  Toono was thankful for this. He had given clear instructions to Yama and Kadlest before they had split ways in DaiSo. Earlier today, Yama and Kadlest had visited Reikon Gate to use the teleplatforms. With war in full effect, the teleplatforms would have been secured with an overwhelming amount of soldiers and likely a few higher ranking officers. For anyone who opposed the two women, they’d be met with a swift death. Nobody could challenge Yama—only a Jestivan or royal firstborn with a Branian.

  Toono had told the two women to warn residents that it would be wise for them to stay in their homes until he passed through. Clearly, they had heeded Yama and Kadlest’s warnings.

  Rounding an intersection, Toono headed down one of eight streets that led to the gateway, a giant square at the center of the town. Nine teleplatforms stretched across the middle of the square—four that traveled to other Light Realm kingdoms and five that were gated and connected with the Dark Realm kingdoms.

  Bodies littered the square—easily over a hundred. He took a moment to walk around and study the corpses. Most of them were Spirit soldiers, but there were some Intelians, Adrenians, and Passionians. Almost everyone seemed to be a victim of a slash wound. Had Kadlest even bothered trying to help Yama, or had she figured the swordswoman was fully capable of doing this herself?

  Toono really didn’t care. He wanted to make sure there were no civilians lying on the ground. The most important order he had given them were to not harm innocents. Some would have argued that these soldiers weren’t guilty of anything, but they were an obstacle.

  Once satisfied, he found the teleplatform belonging to the Dev Kingdom. An emblem of an eye with a chocolate cosmos as the iris was engraved in its surface. He spotted the control panel and flipped the lever, then ran toward the platform and jumped onto it as it began to spin. As he grabbed hold of a support beam, he caught a glimpse of civilians watching him from their windows before the platform’s speed caused them to blur.

  He’d be on his own from this point forward. He had steered everyone in the right direction to make everything fall into place. Kadlest and Yama were taking care of business elsewhere while Illipsia was at Phesaw as a refugee. Her mission was perhaps the most important. Now he had to return to Cogdan and find out who his Dev sacrifice would be.

  * * *

  In a lavish dining hall absent of windows, yet abundant with drapes of blue and white, Spirit Queen Apsa and her fiancé of six years were enjoying a salad before dinner’s main course. Apsa appreciated her brief recluse from war’s orchestration before Adren King Supido’s inevitable arrival on the mansion’s doorsteps tomorrow morning.

  This room didn’t have the typical warmth seen in most residential buildings. There was no maple paneling, hardwood floors, or lush carpet. Instead, the floor was blinding white marble and the walls, too, were equally as pure. While there were candle racks in the room’s corners, they weren’t in use. To substitute as sunlight, Intelights burned bright blue above a glass ceiling. Apsa had hired a weavineer from Intel King Vitio years ago. She enjoyed Intelights more than candles.

  Her favorite feature of this room was the Spirit Vent installed in the far wall, which provided a continuous breeze. It was another miraculous feat of weavineering, but the first that involved the use of Spirit Energy rather than Intel Energy. It was created by a weaver she had sent to Brilliance in efforts to help expand weavineering’s potential with other energies outside of just Intel.

  She poked at her salad, unease settling in over the copious amounts of bad news she’d received lately. There was the mysterious return of an Adren navy vessel from the blockade between the Archaic River and Sea of Light. It had held one bruised, cut, and beaten refugee—a young girl with raven hair—and dozens of sailors, but none of those sailors could remember what had caused the hole in the ship’s hull or the absence of their captain.

  Then there was the uncertainty of her maneuver in the Dark Sea’s stalagmites. She had yet to receive communication from her Dev servant aboard her best ship. Had her plan failed? Was her only sizeable fleet in the Dark Realm now on the seafloor?

  A pounding knock reverberated through the hall’s door. She gazed up from her bite of green leaves toward her fiancé, Drondo.

  He shook his head and exhaled through his nose. “Don’t answer. Take a break.”

  The pounding happened again, this time with more ferocity. “It must be something serious for them to interrupt our dinner.” More banging. “Especially in this manner.”

  “Milady!” a voice yelled through the door. “The Adren King and his convoy have been attacked on Spirit Road!” Apsa’s fork clattered against her bowl. “Ranja believes it was the Rogue Demon!”

  The queen stared emptily at the blue tablecloth. Perhaps the sea was the least of her worries.

  * * *

  King Vitio watched while Flen and Joy butted heads over a halfway constructed teleplatform. They were in a laboratory that had been untouched for decades, once belonging to Mendac LeAnce. Even before his death, however, he was never around to use it.

  “The two of you still have yet to make a single platform,” Vitio said, frustration mounting.

  The two Devish stopped bickering and instead looked at the king. “Correction: we’ve made several platforms,” Flen said, waving his hand toward a pile of large stone discs in the lab’s corner.

  Vitio amended himself. “A single successful platform.”

  “Well, this was a long shot in the first place,” Flen replied.

  “Perhaps if you had drawn better diagrams, this wouldn’t be so difficult,” Joy snapped in the direction of Flen.

  Flen shrugged. “It’s hard to focus when you’re behind enemy lines ... I had to fight the bad guys.”

  Joy released a single laugh. “You did nothing.”

  Vitio rubbed his eyes and groaned. “Shut up, please.” He gave his mind a second to stew before saying, “And how is this one coming along? Provod is a limited resource these days. I can’t provide you with many more chances.”

  Joy looked back at the structure and said, “I think I’ve got it this time. I’ve had to guess at some of Flen’s diagrams, but we’re ...” She stopped short, unexpectedly closing her eyes. Flen did the same.

  Vitio hesitated, then asked, “What happened?”

  They both opened their eyes at the same time. “That was Ranja,” Joy said. “He says Queen Apsa requests an emergency broadcast with you, Passion Director Venustas, and Adren General Sinno.”

  “General Sinno?” the king repeated, curious as to the requirement of the general’s presence rather than the royal head, King Supido. As Joy’s eyes flashed burgundy and Flen’s eyes dilated, Vitio asked, “Right this second?”

  His answer was a holographic display that hovered in the lab. “Vitio, I’m waiting for General Sinno. Felli is al
ready here,” Spirit Queen Apsa said.

  As the Passion Director’s face appeared next, she asked, “What has happened, Apsa?”

  “Wait for Sinno.”

  As if she had conjured him by word alone, the Adren General appeared, his temple glistening with sweat. “Have any of you seen the recording from Spirit Road?” the general asked.

  “That’s why I called this meeting.”

  Vitio’s brows furrowed. “What recording? And wasn’t Supido traveling that road?”

  “Supido ran into the Rogue Demon,” Apsa said.

  “Is he dead?” Vitio asked.

  Apsa closed her eyes for a moment. “We don’t know. The only confirmed deaths are the hundred soldiers who were escorting him, along with Spirit General Minerva. The recording only shows a cloaked person in the middle of the road. He or she pulls out a cane—one that previously belonged to Grand Director Poicus—and raps the ground, opening a chasm beneath the convoy and swallowing them whole. The Dev servant who was recording fell in.”

  “And Supido hasn’t returned to the Adren Kingdom?” Vitio asked, his question directed toward Sinno.

  “No, but someone has.”

  “Who?”

  “I just ran here from estate grounds. Corporal Juni arrived just now from the teleplatforms. His entire force was wiped out. Someone formidable has infiltrated the Adren Kingdom.”

  Vitio groaned. “This is a nightmare.”

  “Did the corporal get an identity?” Apsa asked.

  Sinno shook his head. “He said nobody could see the culprit. Soldiers were just dropping dead with slash wounds across their chests.”

  “Adrenians couldn’t track their movement?” Venustas said with a hint of surprise. “Couldn’t have been Toono.”

  “An accomplice?” Apsa suggested.

  “Yama,” the Passion Director muttered. “She’s the only person with a speed percentage capable of outracing an Adrenian’s eyes.”