The Shattered Moon (A Divine Legacy Book 1)

by Alexander J Wilkinson

  Then she saw someone she didn’t recognise. A Boaruss, nearly twice the size of Uncle Benjin sitting in what looked like two giant chairs stuck together. The Boaruss dwarfed everyone there. His thick skin was the colour of clay, a deep brown with a hint of red. Fur covered his head and tree trunk-like neck, once reddish brown but now greying. Two ivory tusks stuck out from his mouth and curved upwards. He wore a burnt orange fur cape tied around his stocky shoulders, a gold medallion hung from his neck. He sat quietly watching everyone who walked up the stairs. A plate sat in front of him, empty except for the bones and smears of whatever he had been eating. Behind him stood two other Boaruss, not quite as massive, but still bigger than any human Shaya had ever seen. They both held war hammers broader than a man’s arm, with long sturdy looking wooden handles, and huge black onyx heads.

  Shaya had met Boaruss merchants in Ki Town many times, they had always been gentle, friendly people, but seeing them armed made her feel a little uneasy. She thought that she wouldn’t even reach their knees if she stood next to them. Benjin quickly grabbed her and stood her in front of him, resting his bear-like hands on her shoulders.

  “Please be seated,” said Avis after an awkward moment of silence as everyone stood by their chairs around the circular stone table. After a few seconds of scraping chairs and shuffling feet, everyone was seated. Everyone except for Elle who still stood by Rowan’s side and the two Boaruss guards who stood behind their leader. Jinx, as usual, flopped down onto Shaya’s shoulder. Now Shaya knew how her sprite friend felt. On her left, bulking Uncle Benjin and to her right, one of the tall Volanti that had been sat waiting downstairs. Even the table was too big for her. Now she was sitting down, she felt herself stretching up as straight as she could, just to see over the top of it.

  “Shall we begin?” asked Avem with a sigh. “Volanti, human and Boaruss, I bid you all welcome to our home. I wish it were under different circumstances that we were all joined here today,” he said as more of a formality than genuine sentiment.

  “It has been too long,” said a booming voice. Shaya strained to see it was the giant Boaruss, a contented smile on his face. “I see many faces here I’ve known for a long time. How are you Greyborn?”

  Shaya and Jinx both looked up at Benjin who smiled broadly.

  “I’m well Ortuskuss, yourself?”

  “Oh, fine old friend fine,” he sat forward in his chairs “I see you haven’t gotten rid of that furry caterpillar from your top you lip yet,” he laughed uproariously and slapped the table with his massive palm. The table shook.

  “Never,” Benjin chucked.

  “Don’t you hate that thing?” Shaya suddenly realised Ortuskuss was leaning forward and looking at her.

  “Well-,” she stammered “He wouldn’t be my uncle without it,” she finally said.

  “Very well put little one, very well put indeed,” Ortuskuss sat back in his chair smiling.

  “Ortuskuss, this is my niece, Shaya.”

  “Pleased to meet you, child, your uncle is a damn good fighter. Or at least he was,” he roared with laughter again.

  “He’s alright I suppose,” Shaya heard herself say.

  Ortuskuss almost fell off his seats he laughed so hard. Even Benjin and some of the others giggled and chuckled. The Boaruss guards’ shoulders were shaking as they tried to suppress their amusement, but not the Volanti elders. They shot daggers across the table, and the laughter quickly died down.

  “Prince Rowan,” said Avis a little too loudly “You have called this meeting. Please speak freely.”

  Rowan, who hadn’t been laughing either, looked over at the Volanti elder and nodded. His face was grave, his eyes dark.

  “Thank you, Matriarch,” he said. He stood up and surveyed the room. “I thank you all for coming. Long has it been since Volanti, Boaruss and humans have been together in such times. It makes me happy to meet you all here today, as I’m sure it would have made my father happy to see you again.”

  The Boaruss leader, moments before laughing and joking, now hung his head, his eyes closed at the mention of his old friend.

  “I’m not my father,” Rowan continued “You owe me no favour nor allegiance you may have owed King Leon. But I am here today in his stead. The plight we face is like nothing any of us have faced before. We must stand together, all of us,” he said with a meaningful glance at Avem. “If we are going to survive this.”

  “The rumours, are they true, your highness?” said the woman from Serran with an anxious expression. “The Banished One has returned?”

  “I’m afraid so.”

  There was a jolt of electricity in the air as the murmurs started. Shaya looked around at all the worried faces.

  “He now goes by the name of Rakmar Balrok, and he is just as savage and powerful as the rumours, and ancient texts say.”

  “What of Bastion my lord?” asked the man from Tetra as he quickly sat forward in his chair. “Is what we’ve heard true as well?”

  “Yes,” Rowan said gravely, his eyes lowered.

  “What, what happened?” the Tetran stammered.

  “Aesal, would you please?” Rowan gestured to behind Shaya. As she turned, she saw Aesal standing silently by the stairs. He looked exhausted, his dark feathers were ruffled, his eyelids were low. He nodded and stepped forward.

  “Yesterday afternoon, one of my scouts returned badly injured with news of Bastion’s demise. She was able to tell us three things,” his voice sounded miles away as if it was a distant sound travelling on the breeze. He didn’t make any eye contact, instead kept his gaze on the table. “One, when she arrived at Bastion, the city had been set ablaze, nothing more than a ruin.”

  Gasps and whispers followed Aesal’s terrible words.

  “Two, while she searched for survivors she was ambushed by Krarg. Stragglers from the force that had ravaged the city. As Prince Rowan has told me, this Rakmar Balrok has enlisted the Krarg as his army,” his voice quivered when he said the name. “Three, as she tried to flee, she was shot with an arrow. She managed to stay airborne and spotted an army heading north west. Somehow she was able to make it all the way back here to tell us.”

  “Northwest?” Asked Ortuskuss “What’s there except for the old Minerva Ruins?”

  “The calamity that destroyed Minerva in the first place,” said Rowan. Heads turned on him “It’s a meteorite, a fragment of the shattered moon, it’s what brought Rakmar to this land. We believe it’s where he gathers his strength. After the battle with his sister Rayne, he will need to regroup.”

  “Is there anything else this scout of yours can tell us, anything at all?” Asked the Serran woman as she turned back to Aesal.

  “No,” he said, his voice cracked, and he began nervously playing with his talons “She died in the night.”

  The silence pounded in the ears of everyone present. Aesal stood quite still, his head low, eyes fixed on the table, but Shaya could see his tears. She wanted nothing more than to jump up and hug the Volanti, but before she could, he turned and walked back to where he had been standing by the stairs with his fellow scouts.

  “I’m so sorry Aesal,” said the Boaruss leader’s deep voice now quiet as a whisper. Aesal looked up at him and nodded.

  “This is what I didn’t want,” Avem said, a hint of anger in his voice as he placed a claw on the tabletop, “I said I didn’t want any Volanti lives lost,” he spat at Rowan. “How many more lives do you require prince, before you realise this is a fool’s quest?” Avem was now shaking with rage.

  “Watch your beak monarch. This no mere boy speak to. He is your prince, son of King Leon Ki and one day your king.” Barked Ortuskuss, which took everyone by surprise, especially Elle who had opened her mouth to shout her own warning.

  “The boy is right Ortuskuss, he is not his father. We owe this child nothing,” Avis glared at the Boaruss.

  “Are you saying you’ll go back on your oath?” Ortuskuss was fuming, he seemed to take it as a personal insult.

&
nbsp; “Everyone seems to be ignoring a glaring issue here Ortuskuss.”

  “Oh? And what might that be Matriarch?”

  “The only ones who have supposedly seen and fought this Rakmar Balrok, are two thirteen-year-old children.”

  “Careful Matriarch,” Elle stepped forward, her voice low and threatening, her hand hovering over her sheaved sword. “Someone might think you're calling your prince a liar.”

  Avis’s beak immediately snapped shut, her eyes darted to her husband who leaned forward and rested a curled fist on the table top.

  “We are calling no one anything. We just don’t understand why we should send our soldiers to their deaths for a boy?”

  “Because it’s your duty,” Ortuskuss bellowed. “Spineless crows,” he muttered under his breath.

  Instantly, every Volanti was on their feet, screaming and cursing at the great boar. Ortuskuss sat with his arms crossed scowling them all. Shaya didn’t know what he had said, but she knew it was something horrible.

  “Ortuskuss,” yelled Benjin, a look of offended shock on his face.

  “Silence,” Rowan shouted, and the council grew quiet. “There is no need for such vulgarity.”

  Ortuskuss stirred in his seat and ground his teeth. Closing his eyes, he shook his head and stood up.

  “My apologies, it’s been a long ride. I should not have said such a thing,” the old boar hung his head low, ashamed. The Volanti hesitantly sat back down.

  “I’m sorry,” he turned to Avem and Avis who reluctantly nodded their heads. Some of the other Volanti delegates murmured irritably to each other.

  “We have always done our duty,” Avis glared at Ortuskuss “But our duty was to the king, and the king alone. Why should we sacrifice Volanti lives for anyone else?”

  “Because we need your help,” said Rowan loudly and the murmuring stopped, all except for tuts and huffs from the two Volanti leaders. “Ellesia, what is our current count?”

  Elle stepped forward and snapped her heels together, standing to attention and addressed everyone.

  “As of this morning with the arrival of Sir Gregordon and his soldiers from Tetra, and Madam Quinzel and her soldiers from Serran, we now stand at three-hundred and twelve combatants and one hundred and thirty horses.”

  “I brought one hundred and twenty-five, good warriors,” said Ortuskuss puffing out his chest “And twenty-seven saurian, damn good in a pinch,” he said nudging Sir Gregordon. “It’s all I could spare your highness,” he said apologetically.

  “I know, thank you,” said Rowan “This brings us to four hundred and thirty-seven soldiers” he paused with a sigh “It is not enough,” he said once again looking over at the Volanti leaders. “We have seen a seemingly endless supply of Krarg at fallen God’s disposal, and the swamps near the Minerva Ruins are where the Krarg dwell. We will be marching into their homeland. Rakmar may be back to full strength by now. We don’t have the time to wait for more reinforcements that may not come. It’s a day’s ride to the coast, and we all need the strength to fight when we reach it.”

  “We?” Asked Gregordon, “You’re not fighting are you, your majesty?”

  Rowan looked at the bearded man with a quizzical gaze “I would not ask any of you to do anything that I’m not willing to do myself.”

  “But your majesty, I must protest.”

  “I’m afraid your protest will fall on deaf ears Sir Gregordon,” Rowan continued as he began to pace around the table. “If I am truly to be this kingdom’s new ruler, I intend to show you all that I am worthy of the title of king. That I deserve the crown, not just because I’m my father’s son, but because I have earned it. Sword in hand, I plan to march on Rakmar Balrok and his armies. Not for vengeance, not for pride or glory, but for you. All of you, for your people, your homes.”

  Shaya sat and watched Rowan as he paced back and forth, driving every point with a shake of his fist, a stern determination on his youthful face. This wasn’t the same spoilt child she had met in the castle. No longer was he the boy who refused to walk to Fylin Forest, demanding a horse. The boy who had winced every time she had forgotten to call him your highness. That felt like years ago, a time long passed, but in fact, it had only been a few short weeks. So much had happened, Shaya found herself wondering how she had gotten to this point, sitting around a table with the leaders of the three dominant races in the kingdom, discussing the pros and cons of war. She smiled proudly to herself as she watched her friend. He was becoming his own king. Rowan glanced up at her and nodded approvingly at her.

  “Your father,” said Ortuskuss as he pushed himself out of his chair. Shaya felt like an ant looking up at his full size, his towering bulking frame.

  “He was a good king, but he was also my friend,” Ortuskuss put his hand to his bulging chest “He would be proud of the man you are becoming my prince, and I will be honoured to call you my king,” he said with a slight bow of his head.

  “As would I, your highness,” Madam Quinzel from Serran stood up, her silver hair blowing in the breeze.

  Before Shaya could blink, everyone around the table was on their feet pledging allegiance to their soon to be king. Shaya jumped to her feet with a broad grin and put her hand on her chest, copying everyone else. Jinx stood on Shaya’s shoulder and did the same. Rowan stood looking at them all with an expression Shaya couldn’t quite put her finger on. It seemed to be a mix of emotions bubbling under the surface of his face. Pride, surprise, maybe a little bit of fear, but mostly joy. When his eyes met hers, he saw her beaming at him. He seemed shocked for a second, then smirked and thanked her. He looked each person in the eye and thanked them one by one. He then turned to Avem and Avis, as did everyone else. They were still sat in their chairs. Even the Volanti next to Shaya had stood to attention and was now glaring at their leaders. Avem’s claw-like fingers were scratching his chin nervously, and Avis sat staring at him with a concerned expression on her face.

  “Can you guarantee-,” Avem’s voice didn’t sound like his own. Gone was the commanding, almost insulant tone from earlier. Replaced now with a trembling voice of apprehension.

  “Can you promise me that no more Volanti lives will be lost?” he said in a near whisper.

  Rowan sighed and looked him square in his yellow eyes.

  “No,” he said sadly “But I can guarantee that if you don’t fight, we will lose this battle, and Rakmar’s next stop will be these very peaks. Then, you will lose everything.”

  Avem looked from Rowan to his wife. Avis gave a light shake of her head and a subtle shrug. Shaya could see the fear in their eyes. They weren’t stubborn, well maybe a little, but they just didn’t want their people to get hurt.

  “I won’t force any Volanti to fight who don’t want to,” he said finally.

  “You won’t have to,” said a voice from behind Shaya. Everyone spun around to see Aesal once again stepping forward, his talon still on his chest. “Forgive me Matriarch, Monarch, but I have been speaking with my scouts and members of the Volanti militia. They want to fight. We want to fight,” he gestured to his scouts and guards who stood behind him. They all nodded in agreement. “Prince Rowan is right. If Rakmar comes here and he will, he will lay waste to everything we hold dear like he did Bastion. Then it won’t just be soldiers that die in battle. It will be our children,” he took another step forward “If we are to die, then let us die on the battlefield, not cowering in our homes like the lost souls of Bastion.”

  Avem sat silently listening to Aesal’s words. He nodded and with a tear in his eye he stood up out of his chair “Forgive me, your highness, I just didn’t want my people to suffer.”

  “There is nothing to forgive Monarch. It just shows you care for your people.”

  “I do,” he said, “But my people want to fight, and I won’t stop them,” he held out a large claw “You have the support of the Volanti, my young king.”

  “Thank you,” Rowan said with a sigh of relief and shook the Volanti’s talon with both hands.
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  “We need a battle plan,” said Ortuskuss.

  Rowan turned to Elle “We may have something,” he said with a smile.

  ♦ ♦ ♦

  The next hour was a barrage of battle tactics, troop positioning and various other army based strategies that made Shaya’s head hurt. It seemed that it had been simple up until now. She held a sword, she used a sword, the enemies fell, then she moved on. She seemed to slip into the background as the talks continued. Some of Aesal’s scouts left, as did the Boaruss guards, presumably to spread the word through the ranks that battle was imminent. Maps and notes covered the large table. Everyone took turns to voice their opinions, all pointing at various points on the map and flailing their hands around to illustrate soldier movements.

  It seemed that a battalion of Boaruss and humans were to be the front lines, with Volanti providing areal support. A second human regiment would flank the area on the south of the island and Boaruss would do the same on the north side, at least that’s what Shaya understood, her brain was starting to throb wildly. Reports from Aesal’s scouts indicated that it was impossible for them to fly over to Rakmar’s island. Savage storms raged around it daily. Not only did they have to deal with an army of Krarg and an angry God, now they had to put up with howling gales, torrential rain and lightning. Everyone seemed to think that somehow it was a result of the meteor’s impact, it had disrupted the weather system in the area. That, or Rakmar could control the weather, Shaya wouldn’t put it passed him.

  After what felt like days to Shaya everyone seemed content with their battle strategy. The maps of the area had dozens of scribbles and arrows strewn all over them that she assumed someone understood. Then a question suddenly pushed its way to the front of her tired mind.