Echoes of a Shattered Age

by R. J. Terrell

  Zreal whipped out a hand and sank his claws into its scaled neck. “You might make a meal of me, but you will have just enough time to enjoy my taste before you drown in your own blood.” Zreal’s raspy voice was unwavering. “You will grant me entrance now, or we will discover how quickly I can rip out every one of your throats.” He yanked his claws loose in a spray of blood.

  The hydra recoiled and hissed at him, the injured head moving away to hide behind the others. Zreal knew his threat had been taken to heart, and so he waited. He didn’t have to wait long, for the Hydra backed away and let out a gurgling low-pitched growl as it shifted its bulk aside.

  Taking a deep breath, Zreal stepped past the Hydra, not bothering to look at the monster as he turned his back on it. Confidence.

  Once inside the throne room, he looked around to see wicked and twisted depictions of suffering and agony beyond anything his imagination could conjure. The glowing black floor was decorated with carvings of symbols and etchings that emitted evil so strong it was almost overwhelming. Even the stalagmites had been carved with such horrific detail, it could be achieved only by overworked slaves.

  As Zreal neared the center, he saw what looked like the images of souls that had been carved into the slate of floor that stretched the length of the room to the steps of a disturbingly large throne. As Zreal looked closer, he realized to his horror that they were not designs at all, but actual souls that had been captured and imprisoned within the floor to forever squirm in their rocky, living tomb. Zreal shuddered. This was no more than decoration for the twisted pleasure of the lord of the Quentranzi.

  “Do you like my arrangement?” thundered a voice that echoed from everywhere and nowhere at the same time. Shockwaves rippled through Zreal’s body. He turned this way and that, but there was no sign of the speaker. He turned back to the empty throne again to the sound of a deep, mocking chuckle, and his mouth dropped open. His black eyes opened wide and he staggered back at the sight of the fearsome twenty-five-foot-tall monstrosity that sat before him on a living demon throne.

  ***

  Chapter Thirteen

  A few days following their fight with the Kalistyi shadow demons, Kenjiro and Akemi made their way across the heavily wooded hills and passed through the villages that dotted the valleys at the base of the mountains. The landscape of Japan had changed much since the passing of the Age of Technology. Nature had returned and put humanity to the test of survival. Some score of years after the End of Technology, underwater volcanoes had erupted beneath the surface of the ocean, gushing rivers of molten magma flowed into the water alongside the island. In time, the magma cooled and hardened, and Japan had increased in size. During the passage of two centuries, quakes had shaped the land even further. With intense rains and the absence of human interference, beautiful forests emerged and blossomed.

  The siblings had not been born to experience the beginnings of the rapid changes in the world, but there were numerous books and verbal accounts passed on through the generations that chronicled these magnificent and frightening times.

  “Is that Sand Dragon’s Valley?” Akemi asked her brother once they’d stopped for a break at the top of a tree near the middle of Mount Funikoshi.

  “About an hour or two and we should be there,” Kenjiro answered.

  “So are we to set camp in that valley or move through it?”

  Kenjiro noted his younger sister’s tone. Akemi did not like the idea of passing through a valley named after a dragon.

  The enormous mythical beasts had only been heard of through legends and stories in the past, and in traditions that had survived countless years throughout many parts of the world. There had always been two known types of dragons in the stories told around the world. The first was the Asian dragon that was said to have been as short as a hundred feet or as long as a mile. This dragon, the dragon of the east, was known to be the symbol of strength, honor and wisdom.

  The other was the fabled evil dragon of the west, a cunning beast that resembled a huge reptilian animal with wings. This dragon was said to live in vast underground caves or underneath mountains and sleep atop massive hordes of gold and other treasures that it stole from surrounding villages and cities. This great wyrm—as it was called—was said to breathe fire and wield various types of powerful magic, depending on the individual creature’s species.

  Although no one claimed to have ever seen a dragon, Akemi didn’t relish the thought of passing through a potential dragon lair. The old stories told that dragons were majestic and magical by nature and could not be defeated by any mundane weapon. They were also intelligent, cunning, and ruthless. Some said that the most difficult and unsolvable riddles were created by the dragons.

  “Don’t tell me you want to travel around this big valley, Akemi? Surely a bit of adventure wouldn’t deter you.”

  The sound of her brother’s voice pulled Akemi from her thoughts. Kenjiro gave his sister a blank look with a hint of humor in his eyes as he spoke.

  Akemi glared at him. “I don’t let fear control my decisions and you know that.”

  “So you do not deny the fear, little sister,” Kenjiro teased.

  Akemi breathed a barely audible sigh. “Only an insecure coward would deny having any fear. Fear, when controlled, helps to keep our senses at their peak when we are in danger. It can keep us on our toes instead of marching bullheadedly into an impossible situation. Most men do this.”

  Now it was Akemi’s chance to turn a sly look on her brother. “And there has never been a time when you marched bullheaded into a fight you could not win, has there, Samurai?” A flicker of irritation came and went across Kenjiro’s face and she knew the remark had stung.

  “We will pass through the valley at first light tomorrow while the air is still cool and the winds blow to the west, away from the cave. If indeed there is a dragon in there, and I doubt this, it will not catch our scent in the air.”

  Akemi frowned and turned to face the sprawling valley that waited in the distance. The hills were few, and the landscape was virtually barren, save the trees that dotted the landscape. If there was a dragon in that valley and it came to find them, there would be no place to take refuge.

  * * *

  It had been three days since the attack on Kyu village, and the villagers, including Kenyatta and Kita, were just finishing the repairs and cleanup. A fair number of people were injured, and some were killed, but the casualties were low. Still, the loss of every person was felt.

  Kenyatta noticed the leader of the defenders sitting quietly at the edge of the town, her mighty weapon lying across her lap. She had not said much over the past few days, and he suspected it was because of the loss of life. She had lost three warriors in that fight and mourned every one of them in addition to the other villagers.

  “You ok?” he asked.

  The woman continued to stare into the distance, and he could see by her frown that she was concentrating to understand his accent.

  “I don’t know,” she answered. Her voice was unlike any he had ever heard. It was like melody was laced in her every word. She glanced at him and slid her hand along the long black hair that clung to both sides of her head. “So many person has never died before. We have fought many times and against many enemy, and almost every time, there were more of them than us. This time was unlucky.”

  Kenyatta sat down next to her. “Ya got to remember the circumstances, ya? They were not jyas a buncha people running in to rob and kill. They were someting else, and I cyan’t say I know what. Never seen anyting like ’em tings before.”

  Seung looked up at the Jamaican, her dark-brown eyes studying him. “You talk strange. Does every person in your land talk the same?”

  Her tone had lightened a bit, and Kenyatta seized the opportunity. “Me wonderin’ when you gonna ask me that. I’m surprised you can even understand me as well as you do.”

  She smiled. It was a sad smile, but he enjoyed it nonetheless. “Your friend a little bit easier to un
derstand, but when I try, I understand you … mostly.” Kenyatta gave her a big, exaggerated smile, showing bright white teeth. To his delight, she laughed. He laughed with her, and for a time they sat, studying each other.

  “Some people talk like me, some of them are worse. Because us travel so much, I’m a bit easier to understand, but if you go to my homeland, you never understand unless you stay toward the coast where the visitors come.”

  Seung looked into his eyes and found kindness. It was the same with the other man, who seemed more like his brother than his friend. From Kim’s account of the one named Kita, the other warrior was just as skilled as the man sitting next to her with his smooth dark skin and thin, twisted hair that he called “locks.” “Outsiders call them ‘dreadlocks,’” he’d told her.

  “You both are far from your homes,” she commented. “You, farther than your friend.”

  Kenyatta shrugged. “Kita and I were on our way to Japan and had to stop and cross tru here. We were gonna stop for the night in one of ’em old buildings in the city, but when we hear all the commotion, we decided it be more fun to come find out what was going on.”

  Seung repressed a giggle as she watched the Jamaican struggling to speak slowly and clearly enough for her to comprehend. “You both fight very well. I never see anyone fight like you two.”

  “Aside from yourself, you mean.”

  Seung did not answer but continued. “I have train for nearly fifteen years now and I never see anyone fight the way you do. Those things were not much problem for you.”

  “You didn’t seem too troubled by them either, lady,” Kenyatta replied modestly. Her smile was warm and genuine, and he felt a friendship forming.

  Back in the village square, Kim and Kita had finished helping the villagers clean up the last of the debris from the attack and the rebuilding. Through the tireless efforts of all, the only indication of the conflict were the homes in repair and the detritus littering the ground.

  “You fight good, friend,” Kim said slowly, taking care with every word. “Only Seung fight as good as you and your friend. I think maybe you were meant by destiny to fight with us. You fight very …” he paused looking for the correct word, “… di-ffe-rently,” he said, jerking his head as he sounded out the word. Kita listened with patience, smiling as the man spoke as though his skills were less than noteworthy. Kita knew better. He had seen Kim fight, and knew this man to be a formidable warrior.

  “I don’t know why we are able to fight the way we do. My father told Kenyatta and me that one day we would find out why we move faster, jump higher, and are stronger than others. I have a feeling that we are close to our answer.”

  Kim looked at Kita assuredly. “I think so too, but do not waste your time to try find them. I think there not many in the world, and if there are more, your paths will crossing. There is no … how to say?” He looked askance at Kita for the correct word.

  “Coincidence?” Kita offered, and Kim nodded and snapped his fingers.

  “Co … incidence,” he repeated. “You and friend and Seung are here in this world for reason.”

  In short order, children were playing in the streets again and life was returning to a bit of normalcy. Kita and Kim found Kenyatta and Seung talking just outside of town. When the newcomers had arrived, Kenyatta jumped to his feet and walked over to meet his old and new friends.

  “How tings goin’ in the village?”

  Kim looked at him with a frown, incomprehension covering his features. When he looked to Kita, who seemed on the verge of laughter, he shook his head.

  “Actually things are getting back to normal pretty quick,” Kita responded, glancing at Seung to see her response. “It’s only been a few days and things are getting back to normal. You and your people are. It’s no surprise you all have survived this long out here.”

  “We have good leaders,” Kim responded.

  “And they have good warriors,” Kita added.

  Kenyatta rolled his eyes. “I’m gonna drown in all this mush if you guys don’t quit it already.”

  Seung and Kim exchanged confused looks. “Mush?” they repeated in unison.

  * * *

  A few days after the last of the repairs and cleanup was finished, the two travelers gathered their belongings to take their leave. “Thank you for the supplies and food,” Kita said. “I have a feeling we’ll need it all.”

  “What is ours is yours, good friend,” Kim replied. “I do not think our village would have been in as good condition as now if you do not come when you did.”

  “And those watchtowers we all built will help you to keep a better view outside your village.”

  Kim nodded in agreement, looking over his shoulder at the wooden towers they had begun erecting over the course of the week.

  “What’s goin’ on?” Kenyatta yelled from further down the hill. “Whatcha talkin’ bout over there?”

  “Not very much, friend. I just thanking Kita for your help in repairing our village.”

  “Yeah man.” Kenyatta said. “And you repay us with food and supplies, makin’ our road a little easier, ya know.”

  Kim looked to the western end of the village. It was early morning and the sun had just surfaced from the east to wash the waking village in its golden warmth. “West is the way you go.” Kim pointed over his shoulder in the direction of the rising sun. “Japan not much far from here, and with the horses you will reach coastline quickly.” Kim seemed to struggle with the last word.

  “Um,” Kita hesitated. “Japan is east,” he pointed in the direction Kim had indicated. “That is east, not west.”

  “Yes, yes east,” Kim quickly agreed with a helpless smile. “I mix words.”

  “No problem.”

  “Are you sure you must leave now?” Kim asked. “You are welcome to stay with us as long as you like.”

  “They must leave as soon as possible,” came Seung’s voice from behind. The three turned to see the woman standing with her arms crossed in front of her chest.

  “I feel something strange in the air and I understand why they hurry. There is some very big power somewhere, and it does not feel close. I think it is a trouble that they travel to …” she paused, looking for the correct word. “Con-front?” she asked, and Kenyatta nodded with a smile. She smiled back. “Keyatta tell me last night, and so now they hurry.” Kenyatta repressed a chuckled when she stumbled over his name.

  She turned those brown eyes on him again. “I can come with you to help with your fight. I have a feel … feeling?”—again he nodded encouragingly—“… feeling you will need as much help as you can get.”

  Kita looked at his friend, who was still smiling at the generous offer, and looking as though he would like nothing more than to have the beautiful woman along.

  “You have a village here to help protect,” he replied instead. “I don’t doubt your second in command here,” he nodded in Kim’s direction, “but I’m thinking the village be needin’ the both of you.”

  “He’s right,” Kita added. “Your village can’t afford to be without either of you right now.” He nodded in the direction of the woods beyond Kyu. “Not with those things lurking in the forest.”

  Seung pouted in resolute agreement and offered no dispute.

  Kita saw that expression and glanced at his best friend, who seemed unable to stop smiling. “Hey Kim. Can you help me with the last of the provisions before we go?”

  “Pro … visions?” Kim repeated. Then he glanced at the other two and his eyebrows rose knowingly. “Oh yes, I help.”

  After Kim and Kita had gone, Seung turned to Kenyatta. “Come with me; there is something I want to show you before you go.”

  “Lead the way,” he replied. As they walked through the back of the village, Kenyatta noticed the landscape seemed to have a different look about it. Although the rest of the village was well kept, it could not begin to compare with the sights that surrounded him now. The trees were lush, bright, and almost pastel green with bran
ches that reached far into the sky and to the sides as if to join in dance. Their multicolored leaves shone in colors he’d never seen.

  The bushes and shrubs looked as if a master landscaper had trimmed them. Some even displayed bright luscious-looking berries, green, blue, orange and purple. Even the grass seemed to stand tall and show off its bright green color proudly. Spotted butterflies bounced through the air, maneuvering between little glowing spheres of light that danced around them. Beauty was everywhere, and it was almost overwhelming to the islander.

  “What is this place,” Kenyatta breathed. “I never see anything like this place before.”

  Seung smiled at his amazement. She too had been in awe the first time she’d come here. Even now, after coming here for years, she still found it breathtaking.

  They stopped at a waterfall, enjoying the sight of the water crashing down upon the lake. Seung hopped several large rocks until she reached the base of the waterfall. Kenyatta found a rock a few feet away and to the right.

  Seung giggled and leaped to a farther rock. Kenyatta was startled by the jump, clearly about ten feet away. He crouched and leaped high into the air.

  Seung looked in surprise as he glided with a look of superiority on his face. She also noted that he’d misjudged the distance, and watched as he glided right into the water between the step she stood on and the one in front of her. She quietly laughed behind a hand as she crouched to the edge of the rock to get a glimpse of her submerged friend. When she looked past her rippling reflection, she saw multicolored fish darting this way and that, disrupted by the intrusion.

  “This pond’s a bit deeper than I was thinking it was.”

  Startled, Seung spun on the voice behind her.

  “Whoa, easy girl,” Kenyatta said, holding up his hands up in surrender. “I’m not trying to scare you that bad.”

  “You swim fast and quiet, friend,” she observed as she watched him slide his drenched locks from in front of his face. Seung produced a cloth from a little sack on her waist. She extended it to him and when Kenyatta reached for it, she spun her hand around his and pulled him closer. She wiped the water from his chin with a second cloth that she had produced seemingly from nowhere. Kenyatta was drawn in to those light brown eyes. She tilted her head to one side and poked her bottom lip out. “I’ll need a bigger cloth for your hair.” He shook his head, spraying her with water.