The Rising Past: Book 2 in The Keepers of the Orbs Series

by J. G. Gatewood

  Second Phase

  Raythum exited the portal and let the odd sensation ripple through, and out of his body. All memories of the past events and test left him and brought him back to the moment. He stood in a dim, candle-lit room, with a long wooden plank table stretching before him, surrounded by a dozen high-backed chairs on each side. His brother, Tirell, sat at the end of the table.

  Tirell’s lips curled into a wry grin. “Hello, little brother.” He motioned to a chair at the other end of the table. “Please, sit.”

  Raythum didn’t like the look in his brother’s eyes, but he acquiesced anyway. He sat in the chair across the table from his brother who wore a tight, black robe. A cold chill ran up his back as a blast of air blew in through the window. He glanced outside and noticed the gray, overcast sky. Tirell must have noticed the shiver because a fire roared to life in the hearth and brought an immediate warmth to the chamber. He refocused his attention on his brother. “Well, you called me here to talk. So what is it?”

  “Dear brother. You’re always direct and to the point. Very well, then.” He steepled his fingers and stared at his brother for several moments. Raythum’s irritation level rose, exactly what his brother wanted.

  “I guess you think you are so smart. You live in your little world where you get everything you want. Mother and father always catered to their baby’s every desire,” he all but sneered.

  Raythum’s skin turned red as his irritation increased even more. He leaned forward to berate his brother for his harsh words, but Tirell cut him off before he could speak.

  “You see, what you fail to accept is that I hear things. Things you wouldn’t want me to know.” He stood and started walking toward his brother. “Father has been dead less than two days and I already hear rumors you are going to usurp me.”

  He waited for his brother to respond to the accusations, and as soon as it appeared he would, Tirell cut him off again.

  “Did you think I wouldn’t hear about your plans? Are you so naïve? I’m the eldest brother and the throne belongs to me.”

  Raythum waited to speak; afraid his brother would cut him off again. When it appeared he would have a chance, he took it. “That is enough.” He rose to his feet and threw his fists down on the table, knocking over his chair in the process. “I won’t sit back and accept your accusations. I have been nothing if not supportive of you my entire life, even when I had reservations of my own. I think you need to check your sources. I have spent the last two days grieving the death of our father, and have spoken neither hide nor hair of usurping your rightful place.”

  Raythum didn’t completely agree with the thoughts he relayed to his brother, but he knew for a fact he hadn’t said any of his reservations out loud. Nor had he made any comments of battling his brother for the throne. He stared into his brother’s eyes. “If that is all, I have preparations to make for our father’s service.” He turned to walk out of the chamber.

  Tirell grabbed his shoulder and spun him around. “It’s so easy for you, isn’t it? You have everyone convinced of your straight-arrow ways; you would never do anything to disturb the natural order of things.” Tirell’s own anger had risen and he bordered on yelling himself. “But I know better. I’ve watched you all of my life. I can see the way you look at me, and the way in which you loathe me is apparent every time I look at your face. And now, you have the audacity to think you can come in here and usurp me to take the kingdom for yourself. You can say what you will, but I know your true feelings. You disgust me.”

  “I disgust you?” Raythum jammed his fingers in his brother’s chest. “I disgust you? You have no idea how infuriating your statement is. You are too childish to take control of Havenbrook. Everything father has worked to build would be destroyed the instant the crown hit your head. You think of no one but yourself and how much power you can gain. I see nothing but dark days ahead for our wonderful little kingdom, but it isn’t my place to question the will of father. And if he decided you would be a good fit as ruler, I won’t argue the decision. Even though it pains me to say so, I won’t interfere with your commencement. Now if we can quit being children, I will speak to you later.”

  Tirell watched his brother storm out of the room. He had hoped to goad him into admitting his true intentions, but the effort had been fruitless. He despised his brother’s confidence, and the way he seemed to trust everyone. His brother’s every action grated on his nerves.

  Raythum strode down the hall. His blood boiled and he had to fight himself to calm down. He wanted to punch his brother right in his face. He had better things to do, but his brother insisted on his childish games. He couldn’t stand it and wanted to leave the city. He made the decision he would leave after the commencement ceremony and take a month or two to himself. He thought of asking Norlun if he could use his summer home in Riverfell for some much needed rest and relaxation.

  Coincidentally, he rounded a corner in the long, dark hall and collided with the old wizard.

  “Norlun! Are you okay? I didn’t expect to see you there.”

  Norlun looked down at his feet and brushed his hands on his chest. Frustrated, the old man said. “Yes, yes, I’m fine. I came down here to find you. We need to talk.”

  He didn’t normally seek Raythum out, so the fact he wanted to speak meant something important had come up. “Yes, of course. What is it? Does something need to be done for my father’s arrangements?”

  “No, no, it is something more important, but I think we should discuss this in private. Can you meet in my chambers in half an hour?”

  “Of course, I will see you then.” The old man seemed to be in quite a rush. As soon as he agreed, Norlun set off down the hall at a speed Raythum hadn’t seen him use in some time. He felt perplexed and didn’t know what to make of the old man’s sudden request to meet, but knew he didn’t have much time.

  He made his way to Norlun’s quarters and rapped on the door, waiting to be granted entrance.

  The door cracked open and he spotted the paranoid gray eyes of the old man. “You’re late! I thought I explained the urgency to you.” He opened the door all the way and let Raythum into the room.

  He noticed several of his father’s advisors already situated, which he found surprising.

  Norlun closed the door and escorted Raythum to a couch; he almost pushed him into his seat. “I thank you all for attending on such short notice. With the passing of our king, I had to put things into place to ensure a satisfactory transition. I know many of you feel uneasy about this meeting, and I thank you for coming anyway.”

  Several murmurs and grumblings broke out throughout the room. Raythum thought the air felt thicker and he shifted on the couch.

  Norlun waited for a hush to fill the room before he proceeded. “As I know you are all aware, Lokan has passed away. Tirell is the eldest son and is slated to take his place on the throne. What many of you don’t know, even you Raythum, is that he intended to have a test for both of his sons to determine who would succeed him on the throne.” More murmuring filled the room.

  “You see, he never quite thought Tirell had what it would take as a successor, and felt a test would gauge who had the right traits to make an adequate ruler. I tend to agree with our deceased king’s reservations. I don’t know if he is the correct choice.” He let his words hang in the air.

  The eldest advisor, Telor, stood up amid the cacophony of protests erupting around the room. He had long, white, stringy hair traveling well down toward his waist. Age spots filled his face, surrounded by the wrinkles from his many years of life—and the tough decisions associated with them.

  Telor gave Norlun a kind smile before he said. “I thank you for bringing us all together to obtain a perspective on our current situation. I too have had my own reservations toward Tirell. He makes decisions too hastily and relies on his personal feelings too often when a calm demeanor would make all of the difference.” He made sure he turned around the room as he spoke, making eye contact with each indivi
dual present.

  “To be honest with all of you, he scares me most of the time.” He thought others felt the same way as he did. “With that being said, Havenbrook is a realm with a long history and storied traditions. These traditions are deep-seeded and a hasty decision by all of us here today could have long lasting repercussions, which very well may rip this realm apart. Is that something each of us is okay with?”

  Norlun interrupted him. “My fear in giving the throne to Tirell is that Havenbrook will face the exact fate you are warning against. We have to do something now.”

  Telor looked displeased with the interruption—after all, he had allowed Norlun to speak unimpeded—but heeded the old wizard’s words anyway. “As I indicated before, I share in your fears and am afraid you might very well be right, but who are we to decide whether or not Tirell is the right fit. We are making him out to be a monster. While he shows glimpses of the monster he could become, he has also shown he has the realm’s best interests in mind too.” He dramatically spun around. “Have we all forgotten the attack by the Rintana? The fact that we are all sitting here today is a testament to how his unorthodox thinking saved this city, and drove off the enemy.”

  All of the advisors listened with baited breath to every word Telor said. Raythum didn’t seem amused. It turned out his brother had been right. People were positioning for his removal from the throne before he ever sat down on it, but not Raythum.

  With the advisors on the edge of their seats, Telor continued. “I believe we must follow the precedents set forth in our long history, which would be to allow Tirell to take the throne. Never has there been a time when the eldest son didn’t take it. To do otherwise, would divide our fine nation and lead us down a ruinous path.”

  Norlun could see Telor had won over some of the advisors. He had to stop this. “Yes, I see where you are deriving your points, but never has Havenbrook had an heir as powerful and dangerous as Tirell. I think you’re all fearful of change, and afraid to follow your own instincts. We have to accept and embrace change, without it we would never learn and evolve. I will follow the advice and wishes of the council, but I warn you, we won’t stop him once he is positioned and entrenched on the throne. He has been caught studying Luther’s teachings, and I’m afraid he might embark on a similar path. Whatever darkness he leads us down, I will lay at each of your feet, and I hope it weighs on your souls.”

  Raythum remained silent as he listened to what each person had to say. Finally, he needed to speak up. He rose to his feet and walked to the center of the room. “I wish to thank each of you for sharing your views, but I have to admit I can’t believe what I’m hearing.” He eyed each member of the council before continuing. “My father would never have stood for the treacherous words some of you speak. He may have had reservations about Tirell succeeding him, but he never ordered nor decided on a replacement. As much as I share some of your concerns, I’m not about to stand back and allow you to decide who should rule this fine nation. We will follow in the tradition of Havenbrook and allow Tirell to take his rightful place as ruler and king. I will take no further part in this coup, and hope you can respect my wishes.” He noticed the stern looks from several of the advisors. They didn’t agree with his thoughts.

  Norlun walked over to him. He tried to pull him over to the side of the room to have a private conversation, but Raythum wouldn’t allow it and pulled away.

  Norlun curled his lips in agitation. “I’m disappointed in your decision. I expected you of all people to understand and support my position. What I speak is your father’s wish and I despise the fact you’re all willing to stand back and allow this nation to be destroyed.”

  Raythum’s face turned red and he furrowed his brow in frustration. “I said I don’t wish to argue about this any further, old man. My father never spoke to me—or anyone else apparently—of his decision to place someone else on the throne. It isn’t my place to usurp my brother, nor is it my wish.” Anger lanced across his face.

  “But what of your brother’s intentions; the true intentions you and I both know exist? We have spoken of them at great length in private. This isn’t a decision I made lightly and I expected more support than I’m receiving. Do you care nothing for your city and its citizens?” His eyes blazed as he put his hands on his hips and his forehead creased.

  “Don’t be foolish! Of course I care about the future of Havenbrook, and wish nothing but prosperity for my people. But I can’t go through with this.” Raythum started to pace. “Think about your actions and the possible repercussions. I think my brother would’ve accepted—not agreed with, but accepted—the decision had it come down from my father. But I think he would never accept it from us and would fight tooth and nail to prevent it from happening. He has a large band of followers who would do anything he asked of them. I’m afraid Havenbrook would be in far worse shape if we went through with this. It might even lead to a civil war, and isn’t something I would ever wish to put my own people through. Surely you can see that possibility?”

  He put his hand on Norlun’s shoulder and offered a consolatory look. “Besides, it isn’t as if I would just abandon my people. I will accept him as our lawful ruler, but will serve at his side. I can offer him counseling and support in a manner that will make him trust me. But I will ensure our people and our nation stay safe from the sidelines. Although I’m not the king, I will still put the safety and well-being of my people at the forefront, and will work to guide Tirell’s actions so they don’t ruin what we have built.”

  Norlun shook his head and looked to his feet. “I don’t agree with your decision and fear for the future, but if it is as it must be, then so be it.”

  “I’m afraid it must be, Norlun,” he said in frustration.

  The room winked out of existence and pure whiteness surrounded him as he recognized another phase of the test. His true memories flooded his mind, coinciding with what had transpired in the latest round. He looked around and spotted his team members who materialized out of nowhere. I wonder what they were doing, since this portion of the test didn’t involve them, he thought. A blue portal shimmered into existence in front of him. He sighed, realizing more useless situations would be placed in front of him. He walked through the portal…let it begin.

  Final Phase

  Raythum exited the blue portal and walked into a large throng of people—whom all seemed oblivious to the fact he had appeared out of thin air. His comrades exited after him. They stood on a dirty and crowded cobblestone street. The wind blew past him and carried the stench of livestock and dung, assaulting his nostrils, and forcing him to breathe through his mouth.

  He looked around and realized they were in the merchant ring. He now remembered Serena, and the approval to invite her to dinner. He felt giddy and excited that his parents had accepted his choice for a courtship, in spite of her position as a commoner. He couldn’t remember why he had brought his four friends along with him, but it didn’t matter. He felt as happy as he could remember, and couldn’t wait to share the good news with Serena.

  He whistled as he made his way down the street and through the crowd. He noticed a clamoring up ahead; everyone moved around the corner. Fear filled Raythum as he picked up his pace to a run. He knew Serena’s father’s shop was around the corner as well.

  He sprinted with his party in tow, and noticed the blacksmith shop engulfed in flame. Thick black smoke billowed out of the cracks and windows of the shop. Two people carried her father and brother—who were both unconscious—out of the burning building.

  Raythum scanned the crowd; he didn’t see Serena anywhere. He looked toward the rear of the shop and saw the home on fire too. Panic filled him as he ran over to it. He grabbed the doorknob and burned his hand. The door felt hot and the handle wouldn’t turn. He tried knocking it open with his shoulder. He tried again to no avail. He ran to a window and threw a rock through it. The glass shattered releasing thick clouds of black smoke.

  He climbed through the broken windo
w, cutting himself on a shard of glass. He fell inside the home and began coughing as the smoke filled his lungs. He stood up; tears flowed down his face from his irritated eyes. He looked around the room and searched for Serena, which he found difficult through the thick wall of smoke. He spotted a mound on the floor in front of the door. It’s her, he thought. He ran over to her and picked her up. He tried the door from the inside, ignoring the searing heat burning his hand.

  With Serena in his arms, he kicked the door multiple times, before it broke open. He fell through and dropped to the ground. His friends rushed over to pull them out of the doorway and into the street. Panic driven, he dropped to his knees and bent over her still body, listening for any sound of her breathing, but couldn’t find any, nor a heartbeat. He breathed into her mouth and pounded on her chest to bring her back, but none of his tactics worked. Somebody tried to pull him away and he threw them aside. He tried again, but didn’t have any success. He screamed out in agony, drawing the attention of several onlookers—including her father the blacksmith—who rushed to his side.

  One of his comrades, Nate, tugged on his arm. “Raythum! I know you are grieving, but look.” He pointed to the roof of a warehouse across the street.

  Raythum cleared away the flood of tears filling his eyes and stared in the direction Nate pointed. His vision blurred and he squinted to make out a dark shape on top of the warehouse. He recognized the skinny stature of the individual, as well as the smug look on the face of his brother, before he turned from the rooftop and disappeared.

  Shock and anger filled his body. Tirell? Tirell is responsible for this. I will see his head on a pike for the pain he has caused. He stood, ready to call over Nate and the others to chase down his brother, when Serena’s father came over. “What…what are you doing here, my lord? I have already fixed your mail…” His eyes drifted to the lifeless body of his daughter lying on the cobblestone road. Grief and anguish filled him as he fell to his knees at his daughter’s side.