Sunken Wind

by Sara T K Fehr

  “Follow me! You can escape!” Amri insisted, but the girl resisted her pull with a cry.

  The soldiers, who had ignored the scene until now, turned towards Amri and gave her stern glares.

  “Join the other girls, or we’ll force you in.” One of the soldiers commanded.

  Amri didn’t understand, the crowd was thick enough that they could easily escape, or even overpower the few soldiers and yet they stood firm, ready for whatever fate befell them.

  A loud clang resounded from the tall tower and Amri clasped her hands against her ears at the sound. It rang again, so loud that Amri could feel it inside her chest. She looked up and saw little doors open below the circular face of the tower. Small mechanisms, exposed by the opened doors, had begun to move and dance in joyous celebration. She frowned as the tower chimed again and noticed out of the corner of her eye that the iron gate to the castle was open. A carriage, surrounded by both Human and Na’tyr soldiers, had rolled through at some point. A group of five well-dressed Na’tyr had stepped from the carriage and were taking their seats on the elevated platform. The one at the center had dark charcoal coloured skin and wore exclusively purple and gold. Atop his head was a massive crown, of gold and red, that rested between his tall pointed horns and his fire red hair dangled playfully against his shoulders. He had a grand set of charcoal coloured wings and a long swishing tail that followed behind him. Amri had no doubt upon seeing him that he was the King-Regent, even before he sat upon the throne.

  The tower rang a fourth and fifth time and the crowd pulled back from the caged women exposing them and Amri at the center of it all. Her heart was racing as she looked between the soldiers now approaching her and the distance she would need to sprint to rejoin the crowd. As much as she wanted to flee, she couldn’t let these women be picked out like some prize.

  One of the guards gave her a sympathetic look as he pointed to the gate. “Go in peacefully, there is no need for violence.”

  Amri struggled to think against the loud sound as the tower chimed more. Then there was silence. The crowd watched her standing against the soldiers with confused awe. Free of the debilitating sound, Amri decided to run for the crowd but was grabbed by a soldier who had sunk up behind her in the cacophony. He held her wrists firmly as she squirmed against him. She looked to the crowd and saw no sign of her friends. A desperate idea came to mind and she called out to the people.

  “This is wrong! You know this is wrong! Stand against them, fight for your freedom! There are more of you than there are of them!”

  She would have kept going, she would have screamed until her voice was raw, had a gloved hand not covered her mouth and smothered her speech. She fought against the soldier that restrained her, but he proved stronger and kept her mouth and body bound with only his hands.

  The soldier dragged her, kicking and biting, before the platform where the King-Regent and his retinue sat. The Na’tyr watched her with curious expressions and the King-Regent himself tipped his head to the side as if intrigued.

  “What do you want us to do with this one?” The soldier asked.

  “You are alone and yet you dare stand against me?” A beautiful voice, as smooth as butter and deep as a well, resounded from the King-Regent. He leaned forward to inspect Amri. “What is your name?”

  The soldier removed his hand and Amri scowled at the five figures standing over her. “None of your business.”

  Her defiance seemed to delight the King-Regent and he gave her a toothy smile, revealing sharp canines. “Curious that you think you can change things, when so many others have failed before you.”

  Amri snarled at him. “I will not bow down before tyrants like you. For as long as wicked people exist there will be people like me standing against them! You will lose!”

  “Such passion. I wonder how long it would take to break you?” The King-Regent purred wickedly.

  Amri felt a fear like she had never felt before course through her at the threat and she paused her squirming. The King-Regent looked to his retinue with a vile grin.

  “What do you think? We could cut these dull affairs short for once.”

  The Na’tyr male on his right cocked his head as he considered Amri. He had soft teal skin and black horns that swept up and then back behind his head. He had attempted to pull his wild black hair into a delicate bun, but defiant locks evaded confinement. It would have looked messy on anyone else, but Amri could not help but feel somewhat charmed by the casual style. He wore dark colours that contrasted against his soft skin and his black wings were pulled tight against his back. His tail coiled around the chair that he sat in and rested by his feet as he responded.

  “I would not be opposed.”

  “Nor would I, some of us have actual work to do.” The Na’tyr on the King-Regent’s left hissed.

  He was a horror to behold. Spikes erupted from nearly every part of his twisted frame and his skin was a sickly yellow. And yet the monstrous creature dressed as well as the others with long flowing black and red robes. His boney wings jutted from his back at an awkward angle and his tail was thick and layered in yet more spikes.

  The largest of the Na’tyr, with paper white skin splotched by patches of gray, nodded. He was nothing but oversized muscles, with no wings or tail, but a set of four horns that protruded from his bald head. He too was well-dressed despite his immense size.

  The final member of the King-Regents retinue was a small woman who lounged lazily in her seat. She lacked the posture that the others were all so careful to hold. Her skin was a fiery orange and her wings looked too small to be useful. She had long horns that curled around the side of her head and a long tail that swished impatiently behind her. Her fingers, wings and tail were all tipped in yellow and she dressed in red, giving her an appearance like fire.

  “I bow to the wisdom of my Lord.” She spoke quickly.

  “Very well.” The King-Regent’s smile spread across his face as he looked back to the soldiers before him. “This one has a fire in her that I have not seen in years. I want her.”

  The way he said I want her made Amri’s skin crawl and she struggled against the soldier again. She tried to scream but a gloved hand covered her mouth again as the soldier nodded.

  “Yes, your majesty.”

  “Take her to the castle.” He commanded, then stood to address his subjects. “How fortunate for all of you that this one has volunteered herself.”

  The women in the fenced area all breathed a sigh of relief and hurried from their confines to join their families again. As one the crowd accepted them with open arms, all too glad that someone unknown to them had taken the place of their loved ones. Amri did not know how she was going to get out of this mess, but at least she had spared someone else from such a fate. She at least would be able to escape, the King-Regent was a fool to think that stone walls or iron fences would keep her locked up. Hopefully that was all that stood between her and freedom.

  The King-Regent stood, and his retinue followed as he made for his carriage again. Another soldier helped the first in restraining Amri and together they dragged her towards the castle. She fought every moment, desperate for their grip to loosen enough for her to break free and escape into the crowd.

  They passed through the iron gates and as they slammed shut behind her Amri felt the fight drain from her. She had nowhere to run if she did escape. Instead she looked up at the massive castle and wondered whose was bigger, the Queen’s or the King-Regent’s.

  Chapter Twenty Three

  Browen

  The thick crowd of people moved like an aggressive stream, pulling and dragging Browen closer towards what he had assumed to be the great clock tower of Esper. He had only ever read about it in his books and it was a marvel to behold in person. While being careful to hide his face, he had locked his eyes on the impressive structure, amazed at the arti
stry and detail carved into the wood and stone. It had only been a moment, yet when he looked back, he could not see Amri, nor any of his friends, in the nearby throng of people. He dared not call out to them, lest someone recognize the names from the wanted posters and instead attempted to fight the crowd in search of them.

  The flow of people then stopped and became an immovable wall of stone. He tried his best to move through them but struggled to get very far. His left hand rested firmly on the cracked pommel of his family sword, ready just in case the worst had happened. He was surprised at how cold the stone was compared to the warm summer air around him.

  The clock tower’s loud bells rang out but Browen did not pause to look at the display that his books had described to him. Instead he continued to push aimlessly through the crowd. He had not made much headway in his task when he heard Amri’s voice call out. His heart thumped hard against his chest and he followed the sound of her voice. The people around him grumbled as he pressed through them, and he hoped that none recognized him as he muttered his apologies. All eyes were fixed on an elevated stage where a Na’tyr with a massive crown of gold and red, watched something before him with curiosity. Browen did not pay attention to what was said as he neared the front of the crowd and finally broke free to see what was going on.

  His heart leapt into his throat as he saw Amri held by a soldier before the King-Regent. Time seemed to simultaneously speed up and slow down. In slow motion he watched the King-Regent whisper wickedly to his advisors but then too fast for him to react they all departed into a carriage and made for the castle with Amri dragged by soldiers behind. He hardly noticed a pen of women which had begun to empty into the crowd. They tearfully reunite with loved ones as he moved towards the closing gates of the castle.

  A second elevated platform with stadium seating remained filled with confused nobles who whispered between each other. One of them, adorned in deep reds and brilliant bronzes, stood and addressed the crowd.

  “With that unpleasantness out of the way, Summerfest has officially begun! Let the celebration begin!”

  The crowd cheered and began to move with purpose around the yard as the nobles instructed their soldiers to prepare for the upcoming games. Browen cared nothing for the frivolities starting around him and ran for the gate just as it sealed the castle grounds from the general population.

  “No!” He cried as he slammed his fists into the iron bars.

  He no longer had sight of Amri or of the King-Regent’s parade of soldiers and carriages, the elaborate gardens obscured the path up to the castle further up the hill. He cried out again and shook the iron bars of the gate to no avail.

  Browen’s anger began to subside into despair and he rested his forehead against the bars. His mind raced; he had no idea how he could possibly help Amri get out of whatever trouble she had gotten herself into. The soldiers on either side of the gate did not seem bothered by the display and let him vent his emotions before one of them, with shaggy brown hair, walked over with a kindly smile.

  “I take it you knew the girl that was chosen?” The soldier asked.

  Browen nodded, his teeth clenched too tight together for speech.

  “Sorry to hear that.” The soldier sighed and looked up to the castle. “Well, if she behaves herself and you’re lucky, you might get to see her again in a year.”

  “A year?!” Browen gasped. He pulled away from the iron bars and looked to the soldier incredulously. “What do you mean? What was that about?”

  The man looked to his fellow soldiers with a frown, then sighed. “You’re new to Esper… that’s… that’s unfortunate.”

  A sandy haired soldier added from his post. “Every year, during Summerfest, the King-Regent selects one girl from all those eligible in Esper. Usually he makes them compete in games, asks them questions or whatever strange tasks he’s dreamed up. But after that stunt that your girl did, I’m not surprised he picked her. The girl that is chosen is brought to the castle to be the King-Regent’s for a year. Then, depending on how that year went, the King-Regent will decide her fate. Sometimes they’re executed, sometimes they are kept as servants and sometimes they get to go home to their families.”

  “That’s only happened twice.” A bitter looking soldier with black hair grumbled from his post. “They’re usually forced to stay at the castle… like slaves.”

  Browen’s fists tightened as the soldiers spoke. He glared at the castle and asked. “What does the King-Regent do to them during that year?”

  “Whatever he wants.” The bitter looking soldier snarled. “They’re like his pet.”

  The shaggy brown-haired soldier added. “Sometimes he’s kind to them.”

  “Sometimes.” The dark-haired soldier shook his head.

  “I need to get her out of there.” Browen vowed under his breath.

  The soldiers looked away and pretended not to have heard the declaration, except for the dark-haired soldier. He waved Browen to him, his expression equally determined. Hopeful for any assistance Browen walked over to him.

  “The masquerade is only a few weeks away; they always bring on more soldiers for it and even let some of us Human soldiers serve inside the castle.” The dark-haired soldier whispered. “If you get recruited and make a good impression you might be able to get inside.”

  “Erik don’t give him that kind of hope.” The sandy haired soldier sighed. “The only Humans allowed inside the castle are the King-Regents slaves or the loyalists.”

  “Except during the masquerade.” Erik snapped with a determined frown. “But you’d have to promise that if you got in, you’d bring a message to my little sister, Eva. She was taken three years ago, no one has seen her since. I… I just want to know that she’s still alive… that she’s ok.”

  Browen nodded as he listened to the soldier’s request. “If I get recruited, I could get inside?”

  “It’s not a guarantee.” The sandy haired soldier sighed. “Erik’s been trying every year for the past three years and he’s still stuck at gate duty.”

  The sympathetic soldier who had first approached Browen was shifting awkwardly as he listened to the three of them whisper. Then, with a sigh, he walked over to them and looked to Browen. “I’m one of the commanding officers of this post, Officer Warren Haldar. If you go to the city barracks and tell them that I sent you, you won’t have any trouble getting recruited. I’ll make sure of that. You’ll still need to prove that you’re a capable soldier but judging from the sword on your hip I doubt that will be much trouble.”

  “If you’re all against this why don’t you do something?” Browen asked before he could consider the consequences of his words. It was something that Amri would ask, that she would have demanded.

  The sandy haired soldier laughed, Erik glared at his feet in frustration and Officer Warren only sighed again. Finally, the sandy haired soldier shook his head.

  “You haven’t seen what happens to rebels I guess.”

  “Loyalists are everywhere.” Erik hissed. “They’re always listening. Any discontent gets stomped out before it is even formed.”

  “Besides, the King-Regent has an army of his own inside.” Officer Warren looked towards the castle. “All Demons, with enough strength to tear through any force we could muster.”

  “This is just how things are in Esper.” The sandy haired soldier crossed his arms. “All we can do is try to use the system to our advantage.”

  Browen looked towards the castle and fought the urge to feel defeated. Amri had a talent for getting out of trouble, but he wasn’t sure that even her talents could get her out of such a well defended place. He looked back to the joyous crowd and wondered where Miri, Ralis and Ezra were. He hoped that they were safe and turned back to Officer Warren, his mind set.

  “I’m going to try and get recruited. I need to do something to help my friend.” Then he lo
oked to Erik. “If I can get inside, I’ll try and help your sister too. I promise.”

  “Good luck.” Officer Warren gave a sad nod as he returned to his post.

  Erik smiled with a twinkle of hope in his eyes as Browen turned from the friendly soldiers and headed back through the crowds. The people looked almost carefree as they played carnival games, enjoyed delicious treats and danced to live music. But Browen could see a shadow of fear ever present on their features despite the frivolity. The castle, which continued to loom over them, was a constant reminder that their moment of peace was temporary.

  He burst through the other side of the festivities and made for the empty streets beyond. He passed a shadow and felt the temperature of the air significantly increase as a hand grabbed his arm. He turned, with his hand on the hilt of his sword, but breathed easily as he recognized Ezra.

  She glared at him; her green eyes flickered like wildfire. “Where were you? Where is everyone?”

  “Amri’s been taken to the castle.” Browen replied then turned to resume his steady march.

  “What?” Ezra asked trailing behind. “Where is Miri and Ralis?”

  “I don’t know.” Browen answered, he hadn’t thought much of the others since he watched Amri get dragged into the castle grounds.

  “Why did Amri get taken to the castle?” Ezra asked her tone deadly serious.

  Browen stopped and faced her, his expression pained. “The King-Regent took her.”

  Ezra cursed and the air around her became unbearably hot. Green flame started to lick against her left arm and Browen had to step away from the heat.

  “Ezra, your arm.” He pointed. The immediate danger had snapped him, at least partially, from his stupor.

  She looked at her arm and cursed again as she tried to pat out the flames to no avail. She then closed her eyes and attempted to steady her breathing, after a few moments the flames flicked out and the air cooled slightly.

  “We should find Ralis and Miri, then figure out a plan.” She answered, her eyes still closed.