Sword from the Sky

by R. Janvier del Valle

  *

  The sign read The Cat & Mouse. The tavern was situated across from the weathered hostel. It was small in stature, with a full level on the ground floor and a half-level on the second. Various candlelit sconces lined the outer walls, lighting up the way for the patrons to see in the darkness of the post-dusk moon. As the Davinian party approached the entrance, they sensed the building to be warm and inviting. The warriors could hear music and chatter inside, and for a brief moment, their worried troubles were subdued with the thought of great food and drink.

  The first to open the door was Pabru. He was quite anxious.

  “I see someone has lost his manners,” Swaso said. “You should have let the girls go first.”

  “What?” Pabru said. “I knew that.” Half of Pabru’s body was already inside the tavern, so he improvised. “Yep. All clear.” He motioned for the ladies to proceed ahead of him.

  Luleh and Kahsy stepped in. The rest followed, except for Jeskun, who stayed back to get a “feel” for the night air.

  The second the students entered the tavern, a chill filled the room. A loose wind sneaked inside the tavern through an open window, knocking down some empty cups near the edge of the tavern bar. The majority of the patrons, of which there were many, turned towards their strange new visitors. It made sense for most of them to stare in wonder, since Davinians rarely travel outside their local community, and in some circles, they were even considered legends. But Claria being so close to Bune, most recognized the students for who they were.

  The Davinians, with their sleeveless rens, wide-brimmed hats, and various blades, fully contrasted the tavern’s patrons. Most of the people in the tavern were either farmers, tradesmen, apothecaries, or healers. None of them were warriors. But worse of all, fearing that the Davinians were a premonition of worse things to come, they saw them as dark passengers bringing evil into their warm and innocent gathering. They squinted their eyes in disgust, staring down the unwelcome children.

  A moment later, Mastro Jeskun stepped in, but he was no child. The patrons set their eyes on the young mastro’s face and saw a battle-scarred blade master. Before, when the children came in with their blades protruding from their rens, the patrons were not at all intimidated by the abundance of steel, for they felt as if the blades were wielded by novices. But when they saw Mastro Jeskun step in with his battle-worn blades protruding from his back, the patrons gasped, as if a storm had suddenly rolled inside the tavern. The patrons turned their heads and kept to themselves.

  “I’m not predicting much service,” Pabru said.

  “Let’s just sit down,” Vehru said.

  “Where?” Luleh said.

  “Near the corner,” Jeskun said. “There.” He pointed towards a group of tables nestled securely beside the tavern’s rear windows, out of everyone’s way. Jeskun motioned for the children to sit. “Vehru, you stay with me. We’ll go up to the bar.”

  “Yes, Mastro,” Vehru said.

  The students worked themselves in throughout the maze of patrons. Once they reached their tables, they quietly sat down.

  Jeskun stood still for a second, observing the people around him. They had placed all their focus on their drinks and food, occupied with their own needs. But Jeskun sensed their secrets. He sensed their hostility as he discerned gloomy spirits slouching down on the tables, inches away from snapping and turning violent. Alarmed, he turned to the bar. There were odd artifacts toppled around the various shelves. The people had some sort of weird spirituality, but he wasn’t there to question that.

  Something caught his eye, a painting on the wall to his right, just above the bar shelves. It was a drawing of a circle with strange symbols inside. It looked like it was painted with blood.

  “You see that, Mastro Jeskun?” Vehru whispered.

  “Take your eyes away from it,” Jeskun said. “Let’s not linger long with our eyes, Servantu.”

  A voice spoke up from the bar. “Will you folks be needing anything? We’re closing the kitchen, and the bar will soon follow.”

  It was not even eight at night.

  “Why so soon?” Jeskun said, approaching the bar. “If you don’t mind me asking.”

  “We’ve changed hours as of late,” the barkeep, a stout old woman with a disposition akin to a grizzly bear, said. “Things have been...happening at night. People go missing. The dark is not what it used to be. We like to be out of the tavern before the moon takes reign at midnight.”

  “I see,” Jeskun said. “Is that why you have that drawing up there?” He motioned with his eyes.

  Quickly, the patrons around Jeskun ceased to talk, turning to him, as if insulted by his question. The barkeep clenched her jaw and hardened her face. But Jeskun wasn’t at all affected by their demeanors. Matter of fact, their reaction frustrated him. He wanted answers, and he was on a short fuse, especially after what happened to his homeland. Most of all, he disdained unpleasantries.

  Vehru felt his teacher’s irritable disposition, and so he readily walked over to the bard, who had been seconds away from dozing off, and kicked his chair.

  “Oh, pardon me,” Vehru said. “I didn’t mean to run into you.” He took out a few silver coins. “For a song, a merry one, if you are not too worn out from your duties.”

  The bard gave him a short glance but then was immediately tempted by the coins. He reached for them, but Vehru snapped his hand back.

  “Make it sprightly.”

  “Yes, young master,” the bard said, taking the coins. He began to play one of the tavern’s favorite tunes, and the people quickly forgot their grudge with Jeskun, shaking their mugs and singing along with the song. Vehru returned to his teacher.

  “You should have saved the coins,” Jeskun said. “Regardless, well done.” He turned to the barkeep. “Why is that symbol up there? I’m just curious.”

  “It’s for the children.”

  Jeskun winced at the comment. “My students?”

  “No, of course not,” the barkeep said. “The drawing is there to ward off the children of the beast. I suppose you don’t know who they are?”

  He did, actually. “Not really. Tell me more,” he said, entertaining her train of thought.

  “Just recently, they have been seen around the city at night, though I haven’t seen one myself, but I’ve heard enough stories and seen enough strange things for me to be suspicious of them. They come in the dark, suited up in the ghastliest of armors. They come and take people away. That’s what they say.”

  “Why would they take your people?” Jeskun said.

  “I don’t know. I’m not a mage. They just do. That’s enough for me to protect myself from them. That’s why we close early, to keep our patrons safe from those children of the damned.”

  “Does it work?” Jeskun said. “The drawing?”

  “Umm,” the barkeep said, skeptical. “Well, they haven’t come here yet, so I suppose.”

  “Sooner or later, you’ll get your answer,” Jeskun said. “Say, why do your patrons fear us?”

  “They don’t fear you—they fear the beastly children,” the barkeep said as she cleaned some wooden cups. “Well, maybe they fear you, but not your students.” Jeskun grinned. They knew so little about his students. “They always think strange visitors attract the beastly children.”

  “And do the children come when you have strange visitors?”

  “Not yet.”

  “Well, we won’t overstay our welcome,” Jeskun said. “We’re just looking to be fed and to replenish ourselves with good drink. Then, we’ll leave the minute we’re done and make our way out of the city. And we have the coin for the food, as much as my party requires.”

  “Very well, then,” the barkeep said. “What would you like?”

  “Well—” Jeskun started to say.

  “Meats and broth,” Vehru interrupted. “And hot bread. Some warm milk and good ale.” Vehru’s eyes were glowing. “Did I leave anything out, Mastro?”

  “Some fresh fr
uit,” Jeskun said, smiling at the barkeep.

  His sincerity eased the barkeep’s worries. “Coming right up,” she said.

  “Vehru, pay the kind woman and meet us at the table.”

  “Will do, Mastro,” Vehru said, wiping off a slight drool.

  Jeskun returned to the table and sat down with his students.

  “Any news, Mastro?” Swaso said. The rest of the students angled their faces with curiosity.

  “The whole town is spooked,” Jeskun said. “It’s the children’s army. They’ve been here.”

  “T-The army?” Kahsy said. “From the sunless land?”

  “That’s the one,” Nefiru, who up until then had been very quiet, keeping to himself, said. “I can feel it. They’re after us.”

  “No one is after us,” Jeskun said, wiping his hands with a damp, wet cloth that was floating inside a small wooden bowl. “The army of children don’t even know who we are or where we’re going. Let’s not let our nerves get the best of us.”

  “Then why have they been raiding this city?” Tamru said.

  “They must have other motives,” Jeskun said. “What? I don’t fully know.”

  “And what of the creatures that attacked our school?” Luleh said. “Are there any more of them?”

  “Again, young servantu, I don’t have all the answers,” Jeskun said, “but I suspect we’ll eventually find out.”

  “Don’t you think you should warn the villagers of the dark creatures?” Swaso said. “They were led by that one child with the red armor, the one that went after Luca. Where there are more beastly children, I suspect there are more of those shadowed beings.”

  “I’ll warn them once we leave the tavern,” Jeskun said, noticing Vehru heading back towards them. “For now, we enjoy our food and much-needed drink.”

  Vehru was all smiles as he came strutting up to the table. “I got some good stuff,” he said.

  “I hope you got enough for all of us,” Pabru said, licking his chops.

  “If you mean ‘did I get enough for you’, then yes, I did. There’s enough food to feed a herd of elephants.” Vehru sat down.

  “So you didn’t get enough for him,” Nefiru said with a wild grin.

  “Nefiru, you may be a prince in Corco,” Pabru said, testy, “but not here. Here you’re just—”

  “One of us,” interrupted Jeskun, breaking the tension. “We’re all the same—except for the two girls, of course. They’re smarter, cleaner, and more pleasant to be around.” None of the boys smiled, except for Vehru. Luleh noticed.

  Three waiters, carrying a handful of trays and jugs, reached their table. There was so much food and drink that there was no room for the Davinians to set down their plates and dinnerware. It didn’t matter. They used their laps for support. Nobody spoke a word. They just munched on the food, gulping down bite after bite, followed by large gulps of cold ale and milk. It was probably for the best, since they kept to themselves in the corner, quietly eating, careful in trying to be as discreet as possible—well, with the exception of Pabru’s numerous belches, of course.

  After some time, the bard began playing a somber tune, slow and melodic, signaling the patrons that it was near closing time.

  “Finish up your plates,” Jeskun said. “We move out early tonight. The tavern is about to shut down.”

  Everyone sighed in disbelief.

  “But what about sleep and rest?” Luleh said.

  “Oh, that’s just not fair,” Pabru said.

  “I saw a fog rolling in from the horizon, coming from the western shores of Baahamonh. I must advise that we should stay clear of it, at least until we reach the sunless land. We must go as soon as possible. We’ll travel all night and find shelter in the later hours of the morning. We’ll get our sleep then.”

  “A fog?” Vehru said.

  Replacing the “sighs” and “boos” were sounds of tension and wariness.

  “I would love to get a good night’s sleep,” Tamru said, “but I’m not too fond of fogs at the moment.”

  “Good,” Jeskun said. “We’ll finish our eating and wash up. Then we’ll leave this gloomy place.”

  “Mastro, a f-f-fog,” Kahsy said.

  “Yes, Kahsy,” Jeskun said. “I was certain that’s what I saw.”

  “N-No, I mean, there’s a fog—now.”

  “What?” Jeskun said. He turned around and saw gray smoke seeping in from beneath the tavern doors. He quickly turned his head to the open windows. Sure enough, a gray mist began to roll over the windowsills. “It can’t be.” He locked eyes with the barkeep, who stood near the bar. She turned to see what he ogled at and suddenly became alarmed.

  “The children,” the barkeep said. “They’ve come.”

  “What?” one of the patrons said. “That’s not possible. It’s still early.”

  “They brought them here,” another patron said, pointing towards the Davinians. “They brought the evil with them.”

  One of the villagers began to shut the windows one by one. Another ran up to the main front window in order to see outside.

  “Do you see anything?” the barkeep said.

  “Are there any children?” a patron said.

  “No,” the one looking out the window said. “Wait, I see something.” He paused and searched. “A child.”

  “The children are here!” the barkeep said.

  “No!” the patron at the window said. “It’s just one child. Just one. No one else. It’s a small girl. She’s coming towards the tavern.”

  “Quick, lock the door!” the barkeep said.

  “No,” the patron at the window said. “It’s too late. She’s here.”

  They heard footsteps out on the tavern’s front porch as the fog began to recede and break apart. The doorknob turned, and the door quietly screeched opened. There she was.

  The girl was about fourteen years old and had an impeccable metal-plated armor of the whitest color. Small, delicate ivory pearls outlined the armor from head to toe, and platinum trimmings lined the aesthetic lines of her slender limbs. The helm she wore was designed as a face of a young woman, much older than her true face, showing the maturity of her intellect. The lower part of the helm was cut out in order for the girl to speak. In her hands, she hauled a great big wool sack stuffed with various objects reaching about three to four feet long. She set the sack near the entrance and then proceeded to walk in.

  All who stood by marveled at her without saying a word. The Davinians in the back sat idly, waiting to hear from their mysterious visitor. They didn’t doubt that she was part of the beastly army of children, but she seemed different. The girl took off her helm, revealing a splendid face. Her long, silky hair collapsed past her shoulders as she pulled her helm over her head. Her hair was blonde with a touch of winter snow, and the hair’s silkiness gave it a sheen that reflected the various torches around the tavern. Her face was thin and polished, her lips delicate and pink, and her eyes were like two pearls in a sea of porcelain.

  The Davinians, especially the boys, were taken aback by the girl’s beauty. Vehru, for the first time in years, saw something more awe-inspiring than his beloved Luleh.

  Damn. It showed. Luleh noticed.

  Reluctantly, Vehru pulled his gaze away from the girl.

  “Hello there,” the girl said. “I am Senah of the Kind Hills of Morland. I have been traveling for weeks without rest. I have been looking for a warm meal for days. I do hope you will be able to oblige my needs.”

  ***

  Please click on the link below to download the rest of Book II.