The Shattered Moon (A Divine Legacy Book 1)

by Alexander J Wilkinson

  Shaya looked at Jinx. Jinx nodded with an expression on her face that said, he’s got a good point. Sprites didn’t spend much time around any race that wasn’t their own. Many of them stayed in the woods to the east or parts of the mountains to the north. Most had left Arrolyn, across the Great Sea, to the lands beyond.

  “This is nonsense,” Elle huffed “Dreams mean nothing.”

  “Then how do you explain this?” Asked Benjin.

  “You can’t possibly believe this. The girl is a mere child, but a man of your age, a member of the Royal Guard.”

  “Can you explain this? Because I can’t. I think we both have to realise that something is going on that none of us truly understand.”

  “Enough of this,” she hissed and took a step towards her prince. “Your grace we must go, the castle is lost, those creatures will find us.”

  “Where are you going?” asked Shaya.

  “We were heading for the catacombs when I saw the door move, and you come through.”

  “I told you, the catacombs have been found. There were Krarg down there, dozens of them,” Benjin groaned.

  “It’s the only way. There are half a dozen secret doors that lead out of the catacombs, if they had all been found, we would have been overrun by now.”

  “We came through the oak tree; they hadn’t found that one, yet. We best get moving,” said Benjin.

  Elle hesitantly nodded at him and walked passed him and Shaya to the prince. Suddenly the doors at the end of the throne room thundered and shook with great force. Shaya jumped, it felt as if her heart had done a flip inside her chest. Elle and Benjin both went for their swords, their training kicking in as an immediate reflex. The large barricade across the doors held firm as a second echoing crash rang out, and the doors trembled. The great wooden doors were at least six inches thick, but they wouldn’t last forever.

  “We need to move, now,” commanded Elle as she ushered the prince to the secret door.

  “The door won’t close,” Benjin said suddenly.

  “What?”

  “The door, it's broken, it won’t move another inch. We could go through, but they would be able to follow us, Krarg are faster than we are.”

  “Then what can we do?” asked Shaya in a panicked voice.

  Benjin looked up at Elle; she knew exactly what he was thinking “By you time,” he said finally.

  “No, I’m not leaving you.”

  “You must, child. Otherwise, none of us are getting out of here,” Benjin pleaded.

  Elle put a hand the young prince’s shoulder. “Stay safe. You must survive.”

  “What are you going to do?” he asked.

  “I’m going to find your father,” she said sternly.

  “Head south your grace, to Filyn Forrest, we’ll meet you there,” Elle continued.

  “Filyn Forrest?”

  “Speak with Shale. He’ll know what to do.”

  “I’ve never been to see him before. Shale won’t speak to me; I’m not the king.”

  “One day you will be. Find him. Tell him everything that has happened here. Shale will guide you. Wait for us there.”

  Prince Rowan nodded nervously and begrudgingly headed for the secret passage.

  “Come,” he said to Shaya as he walked past her.

  “I can’t,” Shaya’s eyes began to fill with tears as Benjin knelt down in front of her.

  “I’ll see you soon kido, I promise. I may be old, but there is still fight in these bones.”

  “Shaya,” It was the first time Elle had called her by her name and not, girl. “I’ll take care of your uncle if you take care of the prince,” the faintest of smiles appeared on Elle’s otherwise stern face.

  Shaya looked back at her uncle; a tear rolled down her face. He wiped it away and brought her close for a warm embrace. The doors rocked again; they heard the sound of splintering wood. The barricade shook, a small chunk split off and fell to the floor.

  “Greyborn,” shouted Elle as she drew her broadsword.

  Benjin pulled away so he could look into the tearful eyes of his niece. “Something special is happening with you kido, I don’t pretend to understand it. You’ve always wanted to go off adventuring, this is the beginning of your journey, and I’ll be there with you at the end, but right now you have to go.”

  “I’m not ready for this.”

  “Soldiers are only ever ready when they are called upon to be.”

  “Come on,” said Jinx quietly as she hovered over Shaya’s shoulder.

  Shaya nodded and smiled tearfully “I love you.”

  “I love you more kido,” Benjin stood up and drew his sword “Now run.”

  “I’ll see you soon,” said Shaya as she wiped away her tears. Her eyes now damp, but determined.

  She turned and ran towards the passageway. At that moment the splintering barricade failed, and the doors flew open. One broke apart in massive pieces of fractured timber that crashed to the ground cracking the grey stone floor. In swarmed an army of Krarg. All teeth, talons and jagged blades. Their eyes, full of violent hatred underneath black helmets. Shaya turned to see the mass of creatures flooding the hall, running at Benjin and Elle. Both stood their ground, waiting for the first attack.

  “Run,” shouted Benjin as the first Krarg swung its sword at his head. He blocked the heavy blow, spun around and sliced across the monster’s stomach. Elle killed one of the creatures and took its crewed weapon. She wielded the two blades with ease, cutting down one beast after the other.

  They’ll be alright, Shaya thought to herself, they’ll be alright. The words ran around in her head like a mantra as she dashed through the passageway with the prince.

  Back into the musty darkness, their hurried footsteps were drowned out by the clashing of steel, the roars, the cries of battle behind them as they fled. Shaya followed Prince Rowan as he sprinted further into the tunnels.

  “This way,” he shouted as he darted down another corridor. They took an immediate left, then another right, this wasn’t the way Shaya had come, he was leading her to another exit. The catacombs were designed to be like a maze, for just such an occasion. The Royal family learned the various routes, as did the guards. If an invading force stumbled upon one of the entrances, they could be lost for days, wandering aimlessly, wondering how to get out. Just like the two Krarg the prince ran straight into as he took the next corner. He let out a sharp yelp of surprise as the lizards turned and looked down at him. One of them smiled, showing a row of needle-sharp yellow teeth.

  “The prinsssss” it hissed in a vile growl and reached out a scaled claw to grab him.

  Shaya, without even thinking blew passed the prince and swung her sword down on the monster’s arm. As it screeched in pain, she sliced again, and the creature went silent. The second Krarg lunged forward with its spear, a weapon with a long reach, but cumbersome for such a large enemy. As the Krarg went to recover from its attack, Shaya spun passed the spear, dash forward and buried her blade in its stomach. It fell back hard against a decaying statue of a long-dead king. The figure crumbled as if even the slightest tap would have made it collapse. The debris hit the Krarg on the head and submerged the lizard in limestone.

  Shaya stood, a little out of breath. She looked up at the prince; his jaw was practically on the floor.

  “How did you?” he trailed off.

  “We need to go your majesty.”

  “Yes. This way” he said hesitantly, and they continued down the path. Jinx looked at Shaya with an impressed smirk as she flew past her.

  “We’ll make a soldier out of you yet eh?” the sprite said.

  Shaya smiled faintly and followed the prince onward.

  Her heartbeat was thundering, booming. She could feel every blast within her chest as she ran. A constant, never-ending pummelling that rattled her ribs. This morning she had never harmed an insect. She would walk around ants rather than step on them, let spiders lose out in the garden rather than stamp on them. Now, she had ended th
ree lives. They were monsters. Vile, murderous creatures that would have done a lot worse to her if she had given them the chance. She had wanted to be a soldier all her life; this was just a part of it. A horrible, but necessary part if she wanted to survive. Maybe the sickening feeling in her stomach was a sign that she wasn’t ready. Or maybe, it was merely telling her that she was human and she didn’t enjoy killing, necessary or not.

  As she continued to sprint down the endless passageways, a realisation struck her. Whatever was happening, whatever she was running towards, there was no doubt she would have to kill again and again. The thought sent a cold shiver down her spine as if someone had poured ice water down her back. Even though that thought made her feel uneasy, it wasn’t that realisation that made her thunderous heart skip a beat. It was the sudden awareness that she couldn’t hear Benjin and Elle fighting anymore. Maybe they had fled far enough away that the sounds had simply faded, or they had been victorious in battle. Then her mind spoke the words she wished it hadn’t.

  Something horrible has happened.

  Chapter Four

  Uninvited Guests

  The air smells fresh, fresher than I remember, thought Shaya as she stepped out of the dank catacombs and into the outside world once again. It felt like they had been running around down there for hours. The prince closed the opening behind them softly. Shaya turned to see that it was a trap door under a fake flower bed against the exterior wall of the castle. The storm had worsened since they had been inside, the wind was violent and the rain heavy. She pulled up her hood and looked down at Jinx who was clinging to Shaya’s leg for dear life.

  “In,” whispered Shaya.

  Jinx looked up at her and shot into Shaya’s hood, sitting on Shaya’s shoulder, taking refuge from the rain. “Thanks,” she muttered as she rang out her long brown hair.

  “Where are we?” Shaya looked around; she didn’t recognise anything.

  “East side of the castle, just outside the castle gardens.”

  Shaya hunched down and quickly shuffled over to the nearest honey plumb bush and hid behind it. She peered over the foliage and looked around. She couldn’t see much in the darkness, except for the lamps lighting the east road. They were six-foot posts placed every twenty feet. Atop them sat blazing candles and glass balls protecting the flames from the weather.

  “Get down,” she snapped at the prince, who he was just standing behind her, out in the open.

  He looked down at her “Excuse me?” he said with a raised eyebrow.

  Shaya grabbed his robe and yanked him to the floor “I said get down,” she whispered angrily and went back to scanning the area, so she didn’t see the shocked and exasperated expression on the prince’s face.

  “Can you see any Krarg Jinx?”

  Jinx had brilliant eyesight, even in these conditions. She stood up on Shaya’s shoulder and leaned on her hood for balance as she peered into the night.

  “It looks like it’s clear” she whispered, “What’s the plan?”

  “We need to go home. We need supplies to make the trip south.”

  “Is that wise? They may come looking for us there,” said a still dripping wet Jinx.

  “They don’t know who we are or where we live. That should give us enough time to grab some things before they start searching houses for the prince.”

  Shaya turned to Prince Rowan, “How far is Filyn Forest?”

  “Must be at least a day’s walk, maybe more,” he answered as he straightened his robe.

  “Perfect,” Shaya muttered sarcastically “Come on.”

  They crept along the castle wall, keeping themselves hidden from any watchful eyes. As they neared the end of the wall, Shaya peered around the corner. Stood by the entrance was a large group of Krarg, muttering in some kind of snake-like language.

  Just passed the creatures, she saw a man, or it looked to be a man. He was at least a foot or two taller than the Krarg. He wore black armour over his dark grey skin. She only saw him for a moment, but it was as if he wasn’t really there. It was hard for her mind to understand what she had seen. It was like he was made of black smoke. The edges of his figure billowed and wafted in the wind, almost like he was a shadow trying to become solid. He said something to the Krarg, and they bowed and hissed obedience. He went through the castle entrance and disappeared from sight. Shaya felt something sickening hit her stomach, was that him, the shadowy monster from her dream?

  “Did you see that?” whispered Shaya.

  “See what?” asked the prince, as he was behind her, he didn’t see a thing.

  “Yes,” said Jinx “But I don’t know what I saw.”

  “What was it?” asked the prince again in a sharp whisper. He obviously didn’t like being ignored, he wasn’t used to it.

  The Krarg hissed and snarled at each other in their snake-like speech that Shaya didn’t understand. Quickly they started to split off in different directions. Shaya and the others watched as the reptiles slumped down low and sniffed the ground as they walked. Their ever watchful eyes narrowed to glinting yellow slits in the gloom of night. Like animals stalking their prey. They were going hunting.

  ♦ ♦ ♦

  King Leon stood in the middle of his son’s chambers with his broadsword at his side and the bodies of three Krarg at his feet. He remained perfectly still, like one of the many statues of him scattered around the castle grounds. His jaw clenched underneath his thick but neat white beard, his steely green eyes fixed on the door to the room. Two more Krarg circled him like wolves, three more stood by the door, staring at him. He could tell that they all wanted him dead. At any moment they could pounce like the animals they were, he had killed three of their brethren, the tension in the room was immense. They were waiting for something, but what? They kept peering out of the door and down the corridor that led to the central staircase. Why hadn’t they killed him yet? They undoubtedly wanted to desperately, but why the hesitation he wondered.

  The king had been found while he was searching for his son. Earlier he had been sat at his desk in his chambers, writing a letter to his old friend Monarch Avem of the Volanti, when two of his Royal Guards burst in and told him the castle was under attack. He had immediately leapt to his feet and grabbed his broadsword from the wall display above the fireplace. The guards urged him to stay in his room and lock the door. Moments after he reluctantly did this, he had heard the sound of steel against steel, the screams of his guards and the monstrous howls of the demons that had slain them.

  He had killed two on the way to his son’s room and the three he had found searching the place when he arrived. Now he stood, surrounded, defeated. He prayed Ellesia had found Prince Rowan and taken him out of the castle through the catacombs, as this was the arrangement in case of such an attack. To the king, his own life wasn’t important, but his son’s life was.

  He wore his Royal robes as he always did. They were the colour of red wine with a thick golden trim around the lining of his collar and cuffs. His golden crown sat atop his curling white hair that nearly reached his shoulders.

  His grip tightened on the hilt of his broadsword. It had been a gift from the leader of the Boaruss tribe of the Red Mountains. The sword was given to him as a thank you for freeing the Boaruss of a deadly threat nearly three decades ago. A monstrous beast had made it’s home in their mines. The Boaruss Elder, Ortuskuss had come to the king on his knees asking for help. The creature had killed dozens of his warriors, and his people lived in fear. King Leon had put his hand on the shoulder of the Great Boar and promised they had nothing to fear. Within days, King Leon himself had led an army of soldiers to the mines of the Red Mountains and flushed out the beast. It was an Aracton, a giant spider with the tail of a scorpion. It had been a violent fight, and the king had killed the creature by shoving his sword into its skull. His blade had broken when he tried to pull it out, so a new sword was a fitting gift from Ortuskuss.

  The sword itself was a beautiful piece of craftsmanship, forged in the Boarus
s mines. The king had treasured it ever since he had been given it. The handle was wrapped in leather, with a golden crown depicted at the end. The pure silver blade shimmered beautifully. Along it, Boaruss markings were engraved. In the common tongue, it translated to the name the magnificent weapon had been given. They called it Saviour, named for its keeper. It angered King Leon that his beautiful gift was now covered in the foul-smelling blood of the sickening creatures that lay at his feet.

  Why had the Krarg suddenly crawled from their swamps and caves? They were no leaders; they were nothing more than savages. They stuck to the marshes to the west, not far from the ruins of the cursed city Minerva. Every now and again they would send raiding parties to nearby settlements, but never had they been bold enough to venture far into central Arrolyn, certainly not here in Ki.

  Someone must be pulling their strings, thought the king. He was right.

  Suddenly there was a commotion among their ranks, the three Krarg by the door became agitated, looking at each other nervously. The king didn’t move, but he was ready for anything. Footsteps approached. Slowly they grew closer and louder. They sounded heavy, whomever they belonged to, they were massive. The door swung open, and the Krarg nervously bowed and tried not to make eye contact. The king's eyes widened. He tried his best not to show his sudden fear on his face. The figure entered, it had to duck slightly to fit through the door, it was as if a shadow had walked in the room. It was looking at him, staring, with hollow black eyes. It was something monstrous that resembled a man.

  The giant must have been eight-foot-tall, his skin grey and scarred. He was huge, not just in height. His arms were like tree trunks; his gauntlet covered hands looked like they could crush granite. His armour was thick and black, jagged and scored from savage battles past. Dull silver lined the edges of his breastplate and down his gauntlets. It wasn’t the man’s armour that sent a chill down the king's spine, nor was it his grey skin, not even his dead eyes. It was the darkness. It radiated from him. It was part of him, and as he came closer, the king grew colder, as if all the warmth was suddenly stripped from the room. The man’s clothing, skin and hair were smouldering. Dark wisps of black smoke emanated from him. A living, breathing shadow stepping into the light.