The Shattered Moon (A Divine Legacy Book 1)

by Alexander J Wilkinson

  “He’s not dead,” whispered Elle after a long moment of silence, not letting a single tear fall from her dark brown eyes.

  “Elle.”

  “He’s not dead,” she repeated loudly standing up straight, still staring at the king’s broken sword “We need to find him.”

  “Ellesia,” Benjin said firmly.

  Elle turned around; her jaw clenched, her face even paler than usual, her eyes a mix of sorrow and rage.

  “We must follow the Prince,” Benjin said softly “We need to meet him and Shaya in Fylin Forrest.”

  “I’m not leaving here without my king,” Elle stormed passed Benjin, he grabbed her arm.

  “Un-hand me Greyborn,” she shot a hate-filled glare at him, and he released her. She headed for the door with a purposeful stride.

  “If we don’t go, we may condemn the king’s son to death.”

  Elle stopped dead; she was silent for a moment.

  “I won’t leave my niece out in the wilderness to die, and I know you won’t let anything happen to the prince. Please, Elle, we need to find the children.

  Elle let out an irritated sigh. “It is my duty, given to me by King Leon. To protect the prince,” she said reluctantly.

  “That’s right,” Benjin breathed.

  “Perhaps we can find out who is responsible for this,” she said finally.

  “Maybe we shall.”

  “So, I can take their head,” a hint of bitter anger just under the surface of every syllable.

  “I’d expect nothing less my lady,” Benjin walked towards her and placed a reassuring hand on her armoured shoulder.

  “He,” Elle hesitated for a moment, Benjin was surprised, he hadn’t seen her hesitate once, not in what she said, not in her actions, she was precise and to the point, always. “He was like a father to me,” she didn’t look at him, she kept her gaze at the door. Benjin guessed she wasn’t one to show feelings very often.

  “I am sorry Ellesia. He was a good king and an even better man.”

  “You knew him?”

  “I had the pleasure of speaking with him many times; I even fought alongside him in my younger days.”

  Elle nodded, and Benjin took his hand back. She let out a long hard sigh and drew her sword.

  “For the king?” she looked back at the old man with a faint smile.

  “For the king,” he smiled sympathetically drawing his own sword. He walked passed her, paused at the doorway, looked both ways, then cautiously started down the corridor the way they had come.

  Elle looked back at the ravaged room and the broken blade. He had gone out fighting, like a warrior. The way he would have wanted to go. With a slight bow of her head, she followed Benjin back towards the stairs.

  ♦ ♦ ♦

  Benjin heard something below, ducked down at the top of the staircase and carefully peered around the corner. He swore inwardly, and his mind began to race as he heard Elle approaching behind him. Quickly he turned with a wide-eyed look and gestured for her to get down. She crouched and knelt next to him, so she could see what had got him so spooked. With the same worrying expression, she turned to him. He nodded with a dull sigh and took another look.

  At the bottom of the stairs stood nearly two dozen Krarg, all skittishly bowing their heads and trying not to look the devil that stood before them in the eye. The living shadow had its back to Elle and Benjin. It towered over the obedient creatures and paced slowly back and forth at the bottom of the stairs as it spoke.

  “Where is the boy?” he asked with an ominously gravelled voice.

  “No ssssign,” hissed one of the lizards closest to him.

  “We have Krarg sssearching the tunnelsss,” said another.

  Benjin and Elle both looked at each other; they read each other’s minds.

  The children.

  “Are you saying he escaped?” asked the shadow threateningly.

  The Krarg fell silent; none dared to speak. The demon stopped pacing, the darkness wafting off its massive body, and the huge black blade in its gloved hand.

  “Answer me,” the shadow’s voice grew darker.

  “They may have got out through the tun-,” The reptile was cut off; the shadow’s sword pierced its skull. The lifeless beast dropped to the floor, and the other Krarg shifted away nervously.

  “Very well,” said the shadow as it wrenched its blade from the lizard’s cranium. “Burn the castle to the ground and hunt the boy down.”

  “No,” whispered Elle. Benjin could see it in her face, the determination of warrior she was. She had lost the king; she wouldn’t lose the prince as well.

  Don’t do anything reckless Elle, he thought to himself.

  As if she had heard his mind and decided to ignore him anyway, she went to stand up. Benjin grabbed her firmly and shook his head. It was too late.

  “There,” screeched one of the Krarg. One of the hideous grunts below had noticed Elle’s sudden movement. It was pointing its serrated sword at them and shrieking frantically. The others all looked up and began to roar and hiss, jumping up and down with murderous anticipation. The living shadow turned, his dead black eyes staring up at the two survivors at the top of the stairs. A sickening grin slid across his dark grey lips, showing off his gnarled white teeth and Benjin suddenly felt a chill run through his veins.

  “Go,” growled the darkness. With that one word, the legion of armoured monsters began to run up the stairs towards them. Elle stood and threw one of her concealed knives right into a beast’s eye, and a second into another's cheek. That didn’t stop the rest, they snarled and roared as they grew closer.

  “Run,” shouted Benjin. “Run,” he had to scream as Elle stood defiantly wanting to hold back the army single handily, he practically had to drag her away. They ran across the top of the stairs to the other side and down the corridor that led to the eastern guard tower.

  “Where are we going?” shouted Benjin as he panted down the hallway.

  “There’s nowhere to go.”

  “The guard tower.”

  “There’s no way out from there.”

  Benjin sneaked a glance over his shoulder. The corridor was a sea of gnashing, shrieking, howling teeth and claws. The swarm of blades and spears was getting closer. Two arrows flew past their heads and stuck in the door ahead of them.

  “What choice do we have?”

  Elle reached the door first and yanked it open. Benjin ran in behind her. Together they slammed the door shut and locked it with the wooden locking bar. Almost immediately the door shook so hard it nearly flew off of its hinges there and then.

  “This won’t hold them for long,” said Elle breathlessly.

  They turned and ran through the second door, slamming and locking it behind them. Benjin had to lean back to see the summit of the long spiralling mountain of stairs that lead up to the guard tower. He silently swore in his head. They had barely reached the second step of what looked like over a hundred when they heard the first door splitter and fall. A moment later the sound of the animals slamming into the second door rang out.

  Faster, must move faster. Run damn it run, Benjin’s brain was screaming at him. Elle was effortlessly bounding up the stairs two steps at a time; he was starting to fall behind.

  “Come on Greyborn, hurry,” Elle yelled down to him. At that moment the second door was ripped from the wall and slung to the ground. It shattered under the thundering feet of two dozen monstrous reptiles.

  Benjin looked down; a wave of scales smashed into the stairs and began to work its way up. He was over halfway, Elle was nearing the top. He could hear them getting closer and closer, they were faster than he was, even with their hefty armour. Closer and closer. The horrible sound of their panting snarls grew louder. He could smell their foul stench, he could almost feel it’s warmth, they were right behind him. With a deafening screech one thrust its sword towards Benjin’s spine. From out of nowhere a small sliver of silver shot passed Benjin’s face straight into the Krarg’s skull.r />
  Elle was stood at the top, next to the open door, light pouring in behind her into the dark tower. One after another she launched her throwing knives down at the screeching mass. The injured Krarg stumbled and fell; it took two others with it as it tumbled over the side and plummeted to the ground far below and landed with the sickening sound of broken bones. The remaining horde regrouped and continued their ascent, by which point Benjin had finally reached the top.

  “Thank you,” gasped the exhausted old man as he clutched his chest.

  “Don’t thank me yet,” Elle said as she pushed him through the door. She slammed it closed and locked it with the thick wooden barricade, it wouldn’t last, they both knew it. There was no way off the battlement. The stairs had brought them to the top of the tower, a square area with waist-high walls, a statue of the Goddess in the centre and no escape. They had views of the hills and trees that surrounded the castle on all sides, but no way to reach them.

  Benjin went to all four sides and looked down over the stone walls.

  Trees, trees, mote, mote. No steps, no way to climb down. This is it, his mind sighed, defeated.

  Elle walked around to the front of the Goddess statue and roared in terror. Benjin turned and saw the look on her face, contorted in disgusted horror. He followed her gaze, and his jaw dropped.

  The statue was a depiction of the Goddess, holding out both outstretched arms, three suns in her hands, symbolising her three children that helped her give life to the world. The same pose all Goddess statues displayed, but this one showed something else, something terrible. The Goddess held out her arms and slumped in her open palms was the shredded, broken body of King Leon. He was almost unrecognisable. He lay ravaged and mutilated, a look of pure agony and torment on his face. His eyes, Elle couldn’t look away from his eyes. On his chest sat his crown, cleaved in two. Benjin felt his heart shrivel up and his stomach knot. There were no words. He watched Elle as she somberly took hesitant steps towards the fallen king. She picked up the remains of his crown with quivering hands and stared at them; they were bloodied and twisted. We failed. The words echoed in Benjin’s head.

  The door shook violently, again and again. Benjin pulled Elle away from the ghastly horror that lay before them and backed up to the wall furthest from the door. Elle forcefully tucked the two pieces of the broken crown into her belt so they wouldn’t come loose. Benjin stood next to her breathing hard, sword in hand waiting for the legion to break the door down.

  “I’ll Kill them all, every single last one of them,” Elle was muttering to herself, grasping her sword in both hands as tight as she could “I’ll rip them apart, piece by bloody piece.”

  Benjin looked at her, she was shaking, but the horror had gone from her eyes, now there was only fury and wrath, much more useful in a battle than despair.

  The door splintered and buckled, then exploded. Shards of wood and iron were sent flying in every direction, and a towering shadow emerged. He walked calmly across the battlement and stopped by the statue. The Krarg horde swarmed out of the doorway and surrounded the pair of soldiers. Benjin tried to take a step back but hit the wall with his heel; Elle didn’t move a muscle, just stared at the dark figure before them. If her eyes could burst into flames, they would have been a blazing inferno.

  “You animal, you loathsome, vile savage,” roared Elle through gritted teeth.

  Rakmar looked at his handy work in the statue's arms and let out an amused grunt. “You do not approve?”

  “How could you? You reptile.”

  “How could I?” Rakmar took another step forward “Effortlessly.”

  Elle stayed silent, but her expression flickered, an emotional punch in the stomach.

  “What do you want?” asked Benjin.

  “The boy prince,” replied the shadow.

  “Never,” spat the warrior woman.

  “What do you want with the prince?” Benjin glared.

  “It doesn’t concern you, dead man. I’ll hunt him down and get what I want.”

  “You leave them alone,” shouted Benjin.

  “Them?”

  Elle slipped Benjin a sideways glance. He didn’t mean to say that. He stumbled over words in his head, his mouth moved, but no sounds came out.

  “The prince is with someone? Someone dear to you?”

  Benjin didn’t answer.

  “Then I’ll hunt them both down, take what I want and slaughter anyone else I see.”

  “No,” screamed Benjin. He ran full pelt and Rakmar, sword in both hands raised above his head for a killing blow. Elle didn’t even have time to react. Benjin had only taken two steps before a bolt of darkness shot from Rakmar’s massive hand and ripped through Benjin’s shoulder. He was thrown back with such force that he smashed into the wall, pieces of stone and steel armour exploded, and the old man was sent flying over the edge.

  “Benjin,” Elle screamed as she watched him disappear over the wall. She hastily dashed to the broken stone barrier just in time to see him silently fall all the way down and hit the water of the mote with an almighty splash that sounded like broken steel and bone. Desperately her eyes searched, looking to see if he surfaced. She could barely see anything, it was too high. She turned and stared the devil in the eye.

  “Choose, dead woman. Avenge your fallen king, or drown trying to save your friend,” the monster readied his massive sword and smirked smugly.

  “What is your name demon?”

  “Rakmar Balrok,” he said proudly, still smirking.

  “Rakmar Balrok, I promise you, on my life and on the Goddess as she watches over us. One day you will die, bloodied and broken” Elle’s glaring eyes narrowed, and her words came slowly “And I will laugh, I swear it.”

  “I look forward to that day,” smiled the shadow.

  With that, Ellesia turned, ran to the wall and jumped. The wind rushed past her so fast it hurt her face. She stretched out her body like an arrow as she fell at incredible speed. She balled her hands into fists, held her breath and closed her eyes. She hit the water so hard she was sure something snapped. She felt as if she had been punched hard in the stomach; the air was knocked out of her lungs. She flailed her arms and legs trying to reach the surface. The water was dark and cold, and her armour weighed her down. With a gasping breath, she burst from the depths and looked around for any sign of Benjin.

  The current was taking her, and she didn’t have the energy to fight it. Frantically she searched with suddenly blurry vision. In the distance, she saw a large fuzzy shape bobbing up and down in the water. She began to swim towards it, every time she moved her arms, it was like they were being hit with sledgehammers. She grunted in pain as she got closer to the shapeless blur. She grabbed onto it. It was Benjin, floating on his back, his armour splintered and broken, barely hanging onto him at all. His shoulder was torn open, and he looked pale. She grabbed his head and kept it afloat. The moat was high on all sides; the water wouldn’t reach ground-level for at least a mile or two. Elle couldn’t climb, couldn’t fight against the increasingly strong current, all she could do was let it take her. As she drifted, she kept Benjin’s head above water and tried to hold back the pain. She looked back towards the castle, and her heart sank as she watched her home ablaze in an inferno of red and yellow flames.

  Chapter Seven

  The Journey South

  By the time they had made it to the outskirts of town, Shaya could no longer hear Kupi’s sorrowful howling. The two of them had walked in silence for the last ten minutes or so, down the cobbled streets of Ki Town. First, she’d had to leave Uncle Benjin, she didn’t know if he was alive or dead. Then Jinx was injured protecting her, who was now lying motionless in a deep sleep inside the pocket of Shaya’s jacket. Now, she’d had to leave Kupi. She knew he was just a pet and no comparison could be made to the man who raised her or, in her eyes, her sister, but she had so few people in her life, and now she had lost all of them.

  Shaya didn’t have many friends. Hardly any if she was co
mpletely honest with herself. The boys at her school in Ki Town didn’t like her because she was too girly. The girls didn’t like her because she was too boyish. Everyone either hated her or envied her because she could use a sword, something that most children her age deemed odd. She could never win with them and had stopped trying to please everyone a long time ago. She didn't let it upset her anymore. Shaya didn’t cry very often, she took after her uncle in that way. She always tried to stay strong, like him. However, all that loss in one morning was a lot to take. She’d had Kupi since she was four, one of her earliest memories was of Uncle Benjin coming home with this tiny moshling pup, not much more than a ball of blue fluff with big ears. He had run laps around her excitedly, his pink tongue flopping and flapping out his open mouth. Shaya had sat on the floor of the living room laughing hysterically and clapping. Benjin had sat on the table quietly with a content smile on his face watching the two new friends having fun together.

  Shaya was so wrapped up in the memories of her past that she didn’t even notice that Prince Rowan had stopped walking.

  “Shaya,” he said solemnly.

  She turned around to see him looking at her. They were stood on the wooden bridge that led out of town. The stream beneath the slightly creaking bridge flowed noisily under their feet. The sun was high in the sky now and another late summers day was in full swing. No one would have guessed that there had been a storm the night before. Just like the terrors they had both been through, the downpour seemed like it was some surreal dream.

  “We should keep moving your highness,” she said flatly.

  The prince took a few creaking steps towards her. “I’m sorry about your moshling.”

  “Thank you, your highness.”

  “I’ll understand if you don’t wish to accompany me to Fylin Forest.”

  Shaya looked at him with a confused look on her face. “What?” she asked as she walked a little closer. “After everything that happened, you think I’m just going to leave, go home, read a book and wait for more Krarg to come knocking?”