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

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The Rising Past: Book 2 in The Keepers of the Orbs Series Page 12

by J. G. Gatewood


  Raythum turned the blacksmith’s face with his hand so they were staring eye to eye. “I loved your daughter and I promise I will explain all of this to you later, but now is not the time. I think I know who is responsible, and the coward is getting away. I must go, but I will return.”

  Serena’s father shook his head in understanding. “Please, do whatever you can to bring him to justice,” he said through his grief-choked throat, returning to kneel beside her.

  “Nate, you take Tomas and head to the south side of the warehouse, I will take the others around to the north side. Do what you can to capture my brother, but don’t harm him. I want him brought to justice for his murderous acts, and his death wouldn’t be justice enough.” Nate nodded his understanding of the orders.

  They drew their swords and headed in their different directions. The streets had filled with a large crowd of people. Many were working hard to control the blaze before it spread to other buildings. He didn’t blame them. The shops were their entire livelihood after all, but it slowed his pace and hindered his advancement to the warehouse.

  He forced his way through the crowd and moved people out of his way, afraid of injuring or trampling an innocent bystander. Finally free, they picked up their pace.

  They ran through mud and refuse as they made their way through the alley. The more he ran, the more his emotions of sadness and grief transitioned to feelings of anger and hatred. No more were his eyes filled with the tears of pain, but instead they were filled with anger and a thirst for retribution.

  He looked in all directions as he ran, to find any movement or sign of his brother. They reached the end of the alley and still hadn’t found him.

  Raythum came to a stop when the five of them met in the middle, in front of a set of double doors. “You didn’t see him? Were you keeping a good watch?”

  Nate shook his head. “Yeah, I kept my eyes open and looked everywhere as we ran. I saw nothing of your brother.”

  Raythum looked around. Had he left the warehouse, they would’ve seen him, which meant he must still be inside or on top of it. “Follow me.”

  He forced the old doors open. They creaked and groaned as he pushed, taking away any chance they had of surprising Tirell. “Stay close and alert. As I’m sure many of you are aware, his spark is very strong. I would hate for one of you to be injured, or killed at his hands.”

  Swords drawn, they crept into the warehouse. The stench when they walked through the doors overwhelmed them. It stank of urine, feces, and decay, a true sign this wasn’t a warehouse at all, but instead a leather tannery. They all had to choke back the bile as it rose in their throats. They had a job to do, and couldn’t afford to be sick.

  The building had two levels and Raythum spotted a staircase at the far end. They made their way up to the second level. The stench up above smelled even worse, as if it were accumulating in the rafters of the building. Even breathing through his mouth, he couldn’t get rid of the nauseating scent. He felt as if he could taste it, which he found almost worse than just smelling it.

  A walkway followed the exterior walls of the second level with an opening in the middle that revealed the floor below. He spotted a metal ladder leading up to the roof where a panel lay open, and daylight crept in. He pointed to the others and they made their way to the ladder.

  They reached the rooftop, and although it felt hot, a steady wind brought them each a breath of clean, fresh air. Raythum filled his lungs when he caught a slight movement on the other side of the roof. He turned and looked to see his brother standing there with a sardonic grin.

  “Welcome, brother. I have been waiting for you. How did you like my little fire? It was entertaining, was it not?”

  Raythum stalked toward him, his companions in tow, his face a mask of fury and horror. “I don’t understand. You killed an innocent woman today. Why?”

  “I did what had to be done. You have mother and father tricked into believing this would be a good idea. I couldn’t stand by and let this common woman infiltrate our palace. I did what had to be done,” he said as he walked closer to Raythum.

  “I loved her. Who are you to decide? You’re a monster!” he screamed, trying to manage his emotions of disbelief and shock.

  “Now, now, brother. Let’s not be hasty with our words. Love blinded you. Once her death passes and you have time to deal with the loss, you will see what I have done makes sense. We are noble and our blood shouldn’t be mixed with common street trash.” He picked a small piece of stray string from his cloak with disdain.

  Raythum felt himself going over the edge. He stormed toward his brother with his blade held high; the others followed at his heels. There were several empty barrels stacked on the roof, to dry in the hot sun. Tirell brought his hands up and several of the stacks of barrels crashed down and knocked them all over, crashing to the rooftop. Tomas almost fell through the roof as one of the timbers gave way under the sudden force of his weight, but Nate reached his hand out quick enough to pull his comrade to safety.

  With his brother distracted and occupied for a moment, Tirell ran across the rooftop on light feet. He reached the ladder and bounded down into the building below, and out of sight.

  Raythum gathered himself, as did the others, and they followed after him. They climbed the ladder back below and heat from the fresh flames greeted them. Tirell had lit the tannery on fire and it spread.

  They spotted Tirell in the alley to the north. He left them far behind—he must have used his spark to increase his speed—and they sped off toward him. Tirell turned down another alley and hundreds of rats scurried in all directions, disturbed and startled by his sudden appearance. He slowed long enough to concentrate on the proper words as the rats burst into flames. The creatures ran in panic, until the pain overcame them. They fell over and continued to burn, creating mini fires with the refuse and hay lingering in the alley. Satisfied, he continued running.

  Raythum rounded the corner and found it engulfed in flame. Curse his brother. The shrill cries of the rats who were still alive bothered him. They fought their way through the death and flame to follow Tirell. He led them into an alley with no way out. Raythum slowed his pace to catch his breath.

  Although trapped, Tirell didn’t look upset. In fact, he looked quite excited about it as a grotesque grin filled his face. “Well, brother, I guess it all comes down to this.”

  “Accompany me back to the palace and I won’t be forced to fight you,” Raythum said, trying to cover the fact he felt out of breath.

  Tirell laughed. “Do you think it’ll be that easy? That I would just come back with you to face father and atone for my deeds? I don’t think so, my naïve little brother.”

  “What other choice do you have? We outnumber you and you are trapped?” He waited for his brother to respond. “Unless you wish to kill us all, you’ll have to face father. I think it would be better if you came with me. I can ensure he goes easy on you.”

  Tirell’s eyes flashed like daggers. “He will never go easy on me. It isn’t the way the world works. I killed someone today—not the first time—but to him it would be. Even though I’m his son and the rightful heir to Havenbrook, he would seek to make an example out of me. I think my only option may be to kill you all. How would he be any the wiser?” A sneer crossed his face again. “A pity you had to get involved.”

  “Of course he will seek to make an example out of you. But if you turn yourself in, I doubt he will hang you in front the so called commoners you seem to hate. I will see to it you live out your days in the palace under close guard.” He tried to get in closer to his brother and began to approach him. “What you did is deplorable, and I will hate you until the day I die, but you are still my brother and you deserve justice, Tirell. I love you,” he whispered, swallowing a bit of bile.

  “You love me? You have never loved me!” he snarled, flicking spittle. He looked around the alley. Raythum drew ever nearer and had no more options. Blue energy flickered and danced between his finge
rtips. “No, I’m afraid this is the best solution.”

  Tirell hurled bright streaks of energy down the alley. Tomas fell to the ground at the last second, missing the attack.

  Raythum looked back over his shoulder. That was close. A little too close, he thought. His brother meant it when he said he would kill them all. With his sword in his hand, he ran forward.

  Tirell saw his brother’s approach. If he engaged in close-range combat, the others would join in and he would be a sitting duck. He fired three more bursts of energy toward his enemies. Raythum noticed and jumped in front of them; taking all the damage in his chest.

  He fell to the ground, his chest a burning black hole. He screamed as the pain overwhelmed him, but it came out as a muffled whimper.

  Tirell looked shocked and horrified. He intended to cause harm and wanted to kill his brother, but never in this manner. It had to be painful and drawn out. He surveyed the scene for a second and knew he had to get out. He bounded down the alley and disappeared out of sight.

  Nate and Tomas knelt at Raythum’s side, while the others took off after Tirell.

  Raythum motioned for Tomas to lean in closer, his speech garbled and hard to understand. “You must get him. He has to be brought to justice before my father. This is just one more illustration of how he wouldn’t make a good ruler for the kingdom.” He coughed; blood and chunks of flesh billowed out of his mouth. A small grin stretched across his face. “At least my sac…my sacrifice won’t …be for nothing. I have been succe…” He never finished his thought as the life drained out of his body.

  Everything turned white again and a yellow portal materialized in front of them. They all looked around in obvious confusion until their memories returned to them. Raythum coughed as air once again filled his lungs. He struggled to breathe for a moment. He stared wide-eyed as he patted his chest where a hole had been just seconds before. Shocked, he stood up and looked around. He thought any damage caused during the test would be permanent. This must have been another of Norlun’s tricks. “Well that surprised me.” He patted his chest again. “And I can’t say it felt pleasant either.” This drew a relieved laugh from Tomas and Nate. He led them back through the yellow portal….

  Self Sacrifice

  Raythum emerged on the other side and saw his brother sitting on the ground cross-legged.

  Tirell grinned as he stood. “I started to get worried about you, little brother. I feared something happened to you; I thought you had met your own demise.”

  Raythum gave his brother an angry glare—the events of the recent attack fresh in his mind. He had to try and remember that everything in the test had been fictitious. It didn’t make it any easier though, nor did it remove the uneasy feeling his brother had been responsible for the death of Serena. “I’m fine, brother. No thanks to you,” he said through clenched teeth.

  “Well, I’m happy to see you unscathed.” He smiled. “Shall we leave this godforsaken land?”

  Raythum looked around at the empty white space. He noticed for the first time Tirell stood alone. “Where are your soldiers?”

  “I hand-picked them to ensure I succeeded. I did. What happened to them is inconsequential,” he sniffed.

  Raythum’s jaw dropped. He looked at his brother, and then back at the portal. “You mean to tell me you left them in there? Are they alive?”

  Tirell shrugged. “What do I care? They’re soldiers. They knew of this possibility when they joined. Besides, what could be better for them, than to know their lives were sacrificed for their future king?”

  “You are unbelievable, Tirell.” He turned to his team. “Come on, guys. We’re going back in.” He walked over to Tirell’s portal.

  “Don’t be stupid! They’re all dead, or soon will be. Nothing can be done for them.” Raythum turned to him and glared. “Besides, the test was created for me. I don’t think it allows others to access it.”

  “Then go back in there!” Raythum screamed. “Those are our people in there. People you left to die. They need to be brought out safely, and if they’re dead, then at least their bodies need to be recovered.” He waited for his brother to enter the portal. He knew he wouldn’t, but he gave him the opportunity anyway. When it seemed apparent his brother wouldn’t react, he did. “Let’s go!”

  They walked through the portal, unprepared for what they faced. At the completion of each of Raythum’s tests, the rooms had returned to their blank canvas of white, which is what Raythum expected. Instead, they walked into a scene of utter chaos. The city of Havenbrook sat before them, but madness lay around every corner. Raythum couldn’t process the destruction.

  They made their way down the blood-soaked cobblestone streets, Raythum noticed a large fire burning in the northern end of the merchant ring. People pillaged the stores—several commoners held the shopkeepers hostage. It appeared the city guard was overwhelmed. They jumped in to help where they could. Dispatching several ruffians, Raythum ordered Tomas to stand guard and offer protection to the merchants.

  He led the others further down the street. They rounded a corner and walked into a courtyard, directly into a mob of people. He spotted three of Tirell’s soldiers surrounded by the mob who hurled stones at them. They appeared to be protecting something.

  Raythum sped up to a run and fought his way through the crowd. He approached the soldiers who all stood back-to-back. He strained his neck and noticed the son of the fourth soldier, dead on the ground.

  One member of the mob hurled a stone hitting Raythum in the middle of his back. Fortunately, he wore his breastplate, and the rock ricocheted off his armor. “Well looky ‘ere. The other prince has come to clean up his brother’s mess,” the citizen snarled.

  Raythum turned and addressed the crowd. “What has happened to you? I mean look at you. I know the people of Havenbrook are better than this. You are all better than this!” He waved his hand over the crowd, only to be met with loud jeers.

  “May’ee you should take it up with your brotha then, the king. His royal highness,” they mocked.

  Raythum had retained his memories this time and knew the whole situation to be nothing but a fabrication. Still, he had to know. “My brother? What has he done that is so bad?”

  “He’s turned this once fine city of Havenbrook into a desolate wasteland is what ‘ee’s done. People be starving, and it only gets worse every day. We’re only doing what is necessary to survive.”

  “Even if the situation is that bad—as doubtful as I find it—it doesn’t give you the right to loot, pillage and turn on the guards. The people of Havenbrook are better than that.”

  The crowd became docile and listened to what their prince had to say. “Desperate times, my lord,” someone mumbled.

  “I’m disappointed in you all.” He looked at the crowd. “Go home, before any more damage is done.”

  “But what ‘ill we do? How ‘ill we eat? And what of your brother?”

  “There is no need to worry. I intend to deal with him. He will be brought to justice.”

  The room shimmered and turned white, similar to the other steps he had encountered during the test. The soldier who died in the scenario breathed deeply and opened his eyes, although he appeared horror-struck. Raythum understood the feeling.

  They exited and found a very disgruntled Tirell waiting for them. “What is the meaning of this? You should’ve left them to die!”

  Raythum glared at his brother. He had never felt more disgusted than he did right now. “As the heirs to Havenbrook, we are sworn to protect the citizens. We couldn’t just leave them in there. They have families, Tirell.”

  “I don’t care about their families. I never did. They had one job, to protect me, which they did. Nobody asked you to go in there and rescue them.” Tirell’s disgust seemed as palpable as Raythum’s.

  “We will see. I’m sure father will have something to say about it.” He walked through the portal.

  They all reemerged in the audience chamber where the advisors, Norlun,
and their father were waiting for them. Lokan offered a congratulatory nod toward Raythum as he entered. It lasted but seconds, though, as his brother followed through after him and received an ominous stare.

  Lokan waited until they all took a seat. “Congratulations to both of you for completing the test, although I will have to admit you each arrived at very different conclusions. We watched as each of you progressed through the various levels of the test. Some of the subject matter was hard to witness, even though I figured it to be nothing but a fabrication.” He took a seat himself and steepled his fingers. “I will say the results were very…revealing.” He sat back in his seat and let Norlun address them, as he looked at each son in turn.

  “I have to admit, I’m quite happy with the way the test played out. Only one of you died, which is more than I could’ve asked for. Each of your tests, while approached differently, put you in similar situations. We were looking to measure your responses against one another, so you had to face similar roadblocks. You each handled them in a different manner and we feel one individual came out on top.”

  Lokan leaned forward and spoke again. “Tirell, I will address you first.” A grin stretched across the elder son’s face. He felt like nothing but praise would be forthcoming. “I have to say your actions reinforced the necessity of this test.” The smile dropped from Tirell’s face. “Every action you took seemed for your own benefit. You blundered every decision, and let your citizens suffer as a direct consequence.”

  Tirell tried to speak, but his father waved him off. “Not now. You’ll have your chance to speak. Right now it’s my turn,” his father’s voice hardened with each word.

  An aggravated Tirell slumped back in his seat like a toddler throwing a fit.

  Lokan leveled his gaze at his youngest son. “And to you, Raythum, I’m pleased and proud with how you reacted. You showed patience when most would run, seeking revenge. You neglected to take the throne by any means necessary and instead deferred to our customs and what you thought were my wishes. You could’ve taken the throne via a coup, but stepped aside, opting to guide your brother from the sidelines.” Lokan’s face revealed his pride in his younger son.

 

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