by B. A. Scott
“No. Your brothers are escorting the Princess Ayden Mercer to Benevar.”
“The Princess?” Dareic gasped, surprised that such a task would have fallen on his brothers.
“There is hope they are still alive,” Vega said. “As I am because of the two of you.”
Dareic said nothing in return, but nodded to Vega, then stood, and filled himself with magic. It was strange, Treäbu thought, seeing tears still flowing from glowing eyes.
“We’ll be moving soon, Vega,” Dareic told the Aerolus. “And you’re in no shape to travel on foot.” He reached his hand to a fallen tree, and summoned two long branches to his palms. He laid them upon the ground, one on either side of Vega. Treäbu stepped away, realizing that Dareic was about to build the stretcher.
With Verdure, Dareic made tiny sprouts grow from beneath Vega’s body. The sprouts turned into a thick shrubbery, which then birthed fresh, green vines. They pushed Vega gently up from the forest floor as Dareic weaved more vines back and forth around the two long branches beneath him. Treäbu watched with amazement as Dareic worked, creating the vine stretcher with incredible intricacy, and surprising ease. At last, he lay Vega gently upon the ground, the stretcher already beneath him, ready to be lifted when the army departed.
“Rest, Vega,” Dareic told the Aerolus. “You’ll need it for the road ahead.”
“Yes,” Vega said. “It is a most uncertain one indeed.” Then, he closed his eyes, and let sleep take him.
Uncertain, Dareic thought. Just like the fate of his brothers. If only he could see them at that moment, just to know they were alive and well.
“They’re alive, Dareic,” Treäbu said, sensing what his Human companion was thinking. Dareic prayed that the Skaelar’s words were true. “You will see your brothers again.”
* * * * *
In the misty fields outlying Caleton, Daro faced the destroyed city. What stone that remained of its walls was charred, cracked and barely standing. Spread out before him, upon the grasses that had been burned by Fury and Flame, stood his darkened army, divided in two, creating a wide path between the ranks.
Every eye was on Hadaan, who walked proudly through the army, and knelt at his father’s feet.
“Let this sunrise mark the dawning of a new age,” Daro said for all to hear. “An age that sees our endeavors justified and all our aspirations achieved.”
The army roared and cheered, then quieted as the Dark Lord looked to his bloodson.
“You have proven yourself yet again, my son,” he told Hadaan. “Your valor, your loyalty and your mettle.” Daro motioned to two of the Fated standing beside him. Each held one of Vega’s massive wings. They walked to Hadaan, and flanked him. “And now, you shall be rewarded,” said the Dark Lord.
Hadaan looked up with gratitude. He unclasped his armor, which fell to the ground in heavy clanks. He leaned forward as the Fated Ones placed the bloodied ends of Vega’s wings upon his bare skin.
“There will be pain, my son,” Daro warned Hadaan.
“I shall not bend to it,” Hadaan replied. The pride in Daro’s eyes swelled. Then, he placed a single palm to his bloodson’s forehead, and filled himself with magic.
Instantly, the bones and flesh from Vega’s wings reached out for those within Hadaan’s body. The Dark Prince cringed as the bones in his upper back shifted unnaturally inside of him. The sensation of his skin ripping as his body received the wings was excruciating.
It grieved Daro to subject his son to such torment, especially at his own hand. But he knew the pain would grant his prince a truly remarkable gift. Hadaan endured the last shudders of pain, which faded quickly at the surging of Revival through his veins. When at last Daro released his magic, he beckoned his son to stand.
“Rise,” said the Dark Lord.
Hadaan stood, and tested the mobility of his new appendages. They felt as if he’d had them all his life. He knew every facet of their abilities, their limitations, their movement—everything. But the wings were no longer the gentle brown that they had once been, for the magic Daro used to bind them to his son had turned their skin and feathers as black as Hadaan’s darkened body.
“Thank you, Father,” Hadaan said with a bow of his head.
* * * * *
At sunset, Vexen passed over the top of the Caprian Mountains, and paused to turn back, taking in the vastness of the Wastelands behind her.
“Never again,” she told herself. “Never again will I set foot in this horrid place.” The child in her arms stirred, but did not wake.
Tall trees filled the southern slopes—a lush landscape that nearly brought tears to Vexen’s eyes. But before she could fully appreciate the scenery around her, an arrow struck just inches from her feet.
“Halt there, demon!” came a voice from among the trees. Vexen looked all around her, yet saw nothing.
“I have a Human child!” she said. “I have carried her across the Wastelands to bring her to her own kind!”
For a moment, all was quiet. But then, twenty men emerged from the wilderness. Some swung or leapt down from the towering branches overhead. Others stepped out from behind tree trunks. They were Humans, clothed in not only greens and browns to hide them amongst the trees, but garments and ornaments earned by trials overcome, victory in combat, or honorable deeds, bestowed upon the treemen during sacred ceremonies and rituals of passage. They stepped closer with weapons drawn, and arrows aimed directly at Vexen.
“No!” she said. “Don’t shoot!” She held the child out for all to see. “Take her! Take her, please!”
The leader of the treemen, a tall figure with very short, sandy brown hair, came forward.
“You have the look of Daro’s demon spawn,” he told Vexen as he cautiously approached her with a ready bow. “You came from the Wastelands, and nothing but evil lurks in those sands.”
“I am no demon,” Vexen said. “And I mean you no harm. Please, take this child from me. See to her safety, I beg you.”
The man slowly lowered his bow, and took Taysha from Vexen’s arms. When he did, the child woke.
“Vexen?” she said, wondering why her slumber had been disturbed. But when she saw the men around her aiming their weapons at the dark creature, Taysha cried out. “Vexen! No! Don’t hurt her! Don’t hurt Vexen!” She squirmed in the treeman’s grasp.
“Taysha, be still!” Vexen commanded.
“Vexen? It has a name, Thade,” one of the other men said as the leader handed him the child.
“Don’t let her watch,” Thade ordered, then took the man’s spear in his own hand, and turned toward Vexen. “If you’d have come out of the Wastelands alone,” he spoke, “we would have killed you on sight. You say you are no demon, Vexen. Why should I believe you? You are likely one of Daro’s scouts. Or perhaps a spy, with offerings of a Human child to gain our trust, only to slit our throats once we turn and look away!”
“No, never!” Vexen said. The circle of men around her converged slowly.
“We cannot allow you to live,” said Thade.
“Please! I’ve done nothing.” Vexen pleaded, dropping to her knees. “Please!” she screamed, her insides burning in a way she’d never felt before. “Let me live!” But Thade reared back, and thrust the spear toward Vexen’s heart.
Before it could touch her, however, the spear, the leader, and the circle of treemen were blasted backward as bright blue flames engulfed Vexen’s skin. She roared, and spasmed on the forest floor, as the Erygian blood inside her burned like it was made of fire. The treemen scurried away, and hid behind the trees’ wide trunks.
“Bless my soul!” exclaimed Thade, not believing his eyes.
“What’s happening to her?” one of the other men asked him.
“It’s an Erygian phenomenon. Hold your fire!” he called to the others.
Vexen concentrated on calming the flames that had consumed her body. After minutes of screaming and convulsing, the last of them disappeared from her flesh. She lay on her back, panting,
her eyes tightly shut as Thade appeared from behind a tree, spear in hand, and walked to her.
“Can you hear me, Vexen?” he asked. Vexen nodded, still breathing heavily. “You are too great a risk to be kept alive.” He placed his spearhead at Vexen’s neck, ready to push it through her dark skin. “If there is truly no lust for evil in your heart,” he said, “then I am sorry.” He lifted his spear, ready to strike once more.
“No!” Taysha screamed as she jumped on top of Vexen.
“She slipped from my grasp, my lord!” said the man who Thade had handed Taysha to. The little girl had tears in her eyes, and her fearful gaze sent chills through Thade’s body, causing him to lower his spear.
“Bind the demon,” he said.
“Would it do any good?” the man asked.
“For now,” answered Thade. “We’re taking her to the Sage.”
Table of Contents
Chapter 30: The Kin of Caladen
A soft, chilled breeze swept over the water as the first light of dawn trickled through the overhanging branches, and awoke the new Erygian Sage from her slumber. Kade slowly opened her eyes, and found her surroundings most unexpected. She looked to Kaven, who stirred for a moment before opening his eyes as well. Their gazes met, and when both realized they had awoken practically in each other’s arms, Kaven jerked away.
“What happened?” he said. “I remember hitting the water, then—then all went dark. Did you save me?”
Kade nodded. “You were at the brink,” she said.
Kaven noticed Gabrel was half-sitting, half-leaning in the middle of the boat, hugging a single oar to his chest.
“Where are we now?” asked Kaven. Kade pushed herself up to see over the sides of the boat. They had come to a stop along the riverbank. She saw small, smooth rocks just below the water’s surface. The river had narrowed and no part of it could have been greater than knee-deep.
“I don’t know. We’ve run aground,” said Kade, her eyes darting quickly to the surrounding trees. The forest had completely turned to jungle, and vines hung down from above, draping over large, strange, sand-colored stones half-buried throughout the trees.
Kaven moved to where his brother rested, and shook him awake. “Gabrel,” he said. “Hey, Gabe, wake up!”
Gabrel jolted to his senses, and plunged the oar into the shallow water beside him, grinding its wood against the smooth stones.
“Hey, easy there, Gabe!” Kaven said, stabilizing his brother by the shoulders.
“Sorry,” Gabrel told him, taking in his surroundings. “Was I asleep? It couldn’t have been long, I swear.”
“Come on, let’s get you up. Stretch our legs,” Kaven said.
“Now that you’re awake, can we go ashore?” Gabrel asked Kade.
“Lets,” Kade answered, then nodded to Ayden. “But not without her.”
“Right,” Gabrel said, moving to the Princess’s side. “Ayden,” he whispered.
“Yes?” she answered with a yawn.
“We’ve stopped, and we’re going ashore.”
They joined Kaven and Kade on the riverbank, and sipped from the waters, quenching their thirsts.
“Why do I feel the urge to walk straight into those trees?” Gabrel asked, the feeling in his gut stronger than it had ever been.
“Aye, I feel it too,” said Kaven. They looked at each other, astonished that they both were experiencing the same feeling.
“I feel nothing,” said Ayden. “What are the two of you on about?”
Gabrel was about to answer the Princess when the sound of weeping drew his attention. Kade had fallen to her knees.
“What is it, Kade?” Gabrel asked.
“My grandfather,” she said. “Our mind-marking. I felt him die. It was the Amulet—” she looked at Gabrel, whose eyes lowered in shame. “Daro made it to the Fountain chamber. Athiux was the last thing standing in his way.”
“And he died because of me,” he said. “Because I took the Amulet.”
“No,” said Kade, wiping her eyes. “It was very foolish of you. But Lord Daro is to blame for my grandfather’s death. And he would have bound Athiux for who knows how long, had the Amulet not taken him first. I waste precious time with these tears. We have a duty to the Princess—no,” she paused, then corrected herself, “to the Queen.”
All looked to Ayden, who bore an expression of amazement. She hadn’t yet realized the ramifications of her father’s death.
“Yeah,” said Gabrel. “Let’s just worry about getting to Benevar in one piece.”
“Right,” said Kade. At that moment, she noticed that Kaven appeared distracted, staring intently into the trees. “Kaven,” she addressed him. “What’s wrong?”
“I can’t fight it any longer,” Kaven told the others. “It’s in my heart—my stomach—my mind—everywhere.”
“What are you talking about?” asked Kade.
“I’ve an urge I can’t resist. It grew stronger in me the farther Gabrel and I got from Caleton, and yet, I feel like it’s been there my whole life. Now, it feels like I’ll burst if I don’t indulge it.”
“I couldn’t have put it any better myself,” Gabrel said. “What’s happening to us, Kaven?”
Kade eyed the brothers with fear. “This may be something dreadful,” she said.
“What?” asked Kaven. “Why do you say that?”
“These effects are not unknown to me,” answered the Sage. “But how the two of you are experiencing them, I have no idea.”
“What do we do?” Gabrel asked.
“Embrace it,” Kade said reluctantly. “But with a ready sword. Go where the feeling beckons you to go.”
Gabrel and Kaven looked at each other. They both knew that the feeling was drawing them into the thick of the trees. They drew their swords, then led Ayden and Kade through the dense jungle.
“It grows stronger with every step,” Gabrel noticed, his heart beating faster as the mysterious feeling guided him. “But where is it leading us?”
“There!” Kaven shouted, discovering the remains of an ancient dwelling amongst the trees ahead. All that had lasted through the years were weathered portions of what used to be walls of stone, yet even they were all but standing. Upon the ground was a stone-laid floor, covered in vines and overgrowth. And in the center of the floor, a staircase delved deep into the earth.
“What is this place?” Kaven asked. “A store room with a cellar? And what’s it doing in the middle of the bloody jungle?”
“I don’t like this,” said Kade.
After a few moments of hesitation, Gabrel spoke, the urge to enter the mysterious cellar overwhelming him. “I’m going in,” he said, then led the others down into the darkness.
When Gabrel reached the last step, torches ignited of their own accord, illuminating a long stone corridor. The group looked to each other cautiously, then proceeded. Gabrel and Kaven walked with their blades drawn, ready for anything to happen—anything to jump out at them, or even for the ground to fall from beneath their feet. In the walls along the corridor, between the torches, were things that looked very familiar to the brothers.
Tombs.
They were most unlike those in the grand vault at Caleton. They were cracked and broken, with vines and tree roots all about them.
“What is this?” Ayden asked. “A house of death?”
Then, Gabrel and Kaven froze in their tracks, for they saw something that made their hearts leap. Something they never could have expected. Something impossible. Something completely unbelievable.
“Is that what I think it is?” Kaven asked. The corridor ended at a wide room, in which rested a massive tomb with a heavy stone cover. And upon its side was inscribed the crest of Caladen.
The brothers stepped forward slowly, as Kade stood behind them, eyeing the tomb with a wary eye.
Gabrel reached out to touch the large stone coffin. The moment his fingers grazed against its cold surface, the compulsion within vanished instantly. They both looked at eac
h other after the sensation had left them.
“It’s gone,” Kaven said.
“Yeah,” Gabrel agreed.
“That tomb,” Kade began, “must have had an allurement charm placed on it. A powerful one. They can be very dangerous.”
“Why?” asked Kaven.
“People feel compelled to seek out objects with allurement charms,” answered Kade. “The nearer you are to one, the stronger the pull it has on you. If placed with evil intentions, they can lead to death.”
“I want to see what’s inside,” Gabrel thought out loud.
“Why?” asked Kaven. “It might not be too pretty.”
“Something led us here, Kaven,” Gabrel said. “Someone wanted us to find this. Will you help me lift the cover?”
The brothers stood at opposite ends of the tomb, and heaved its cover off, pushing it to the ground. With its impact, a cloud of dust rose into the air. Then, Gabrel and Kaven stepped forward and peered into the coffin.
Inside, a deep blue shield, trimmed in a lustrous metal, with blades that contoured each corner, laid atop the nearly disintegrated remains of a skeletal man. His armor was ancient, and vines and tree roots formed a tangled bed that ensnared the shield, as well as its owner, within the tomb. The blue upon it was dark as midnight, and looked as though it bore an endless, brilliant star field beneath its shiny surface. And in the center was a large, silver marking that nearly brought the brothers to their knees—the Caladen family crest.
“I don’t believe it,” said Kaven.
Gabrel ripped apart the vines and roots that bound the shield within the tomb.
“Do you think it’d be okay to take it out?” Gabrel asked. “I can’t help but feel like—”
“Like we were meant to have it,” Kaven completed his brother’s sentence. “I feel the same way. Besides, family heirloom.”
“I hope this is alright with you,” Gabrel told the long deceased man as he lifted the shield from the coffin, and eyed its beauty. “It’s amazing,” he said. Then, in the center of the underside, he noticed that below the shield’s handle was embedded a small, red crystal jewel.
