Knight: Tracks of Darkness

by Dave Devine

unforeseen crime) and my favorite charge.

  Defiance.

  I spent countless days behind bars in utter darkness. The chains were heavier and they were beginning to rip into my skin. I felt things creeping up my legs and arms; I heard things hissing in the night. At one point, I thought I saw a pair of red eyes opening right in front of me, then closing. There was shouting in the distance, and whispers in my ear. I heard an argument in my mind among the ninety nine names of the creator over which name had credence over the other. I smelled honey and laughed with somebody else’s voice.

  Then, a young boy appeared, rattling the bars on my cell with a large key made of gold. He brought a lamplight with him, but I hid away from him in shame. “Ana? Is that you? Why are you hiding?” he asked. The boy opened the door to my cell and he extended a hand toward me. “If you don’t leave with me now,” he said, “Shin-do will have you executed and the cause will be lost forever.”

  “What cause?” I asked. The boy’s eyes were like the night sky, filled with stars. His robes were long and green; he had big ears that were almost comical and a missing front tooth. He spoke with great confidence, like a wise man, which led me to believe that he was a child-mystic from the falls of Evendara.

  “The dream scar,” he replied—which meant he had to be a wizard. “I know somebody who can close it, and he is presently in grave danger!” He spoke like a character from an old fairy tale. Who says presently these days? I gave him my hand and the boy whisked me away through the darkness of Zambaur’s halls. We ran hand in hand in the dark for hours; I didn’t dare to stop. I was too curious about this man who can close the fringe. The boy urged me forward; I stumbled often; my body protested.

  Finally, we came to an open door and I was eager, at that moment, to step into the light. I rushed through and hugged myself, laughing with my own laughter and drinking the light with my eyes. The mysterious boy gave me time to savor the moment before helping me to my feet. He sat with his legs crossed, studying me intently. “So here we are,” the boy said. “This is Arkan, realm of the Minotaur King, and it is precisely fifteen years ago.”

  A frustrating, yet informative dead end.

  It was a tremendous relief to be free of the Prison Kingdom of Zambaur (and certain death at the hands of the Warden King), but the cost of freedom was great; I paid with time, not money. The idea that I was the first or second person to ever escape from Zambaur did not occur to me until much later. For something far more pressing was on my mind. I was now forced to relive the last fifteen years of my life.

  This boy presented me with an incredible opportunity to correct any mistakes I may have made in the past fifteen years. I meditated on what I always wanted to change, decisions I would have reconsidered, and lives that could have been saved if I could just go back fifteen years, be more resolute and less double-minded. As if reading my thoughts, the boy said, “Before you ask, the answer is no. You cannot correct any errors you made, or reconsider any decisions. You can’t save anybody you lost. I am sorry.” I became visibly frustrated and he squeezed my hand to comfort me.

  I stood up and looked out a large window. “The Great Eos War,” I said, turning to the boy. He nodded his head. I witnessed a great parade filled with banners, streamers and dancers. There was confetti fluttering all around amidst trumpets blasting, horns blaring and drums pounding. A vast army of Minotaur, Centaurs and Elves was on the march.

  The Great Eos War was coming to a dramatic end. After the leaders of the criminal organization known as the Red Herring were captured, King Josef Saroufim mustered a world alliance to “address the growing problem of the nigromancer.” He cited the Red Herring’s atrocities as proof that the Aegeans could not govern themselves, and therefore it was his duty to step in and exact justice upon them.

  I realized with horror that the Arkanian army marching down the main street to thunderous applause was making its way south to the final battle in the war and the Aegean’s inevitable genocide. The last remaining Aegeans were surrounded near Hope’s Point, an area southwest of Weal here in Saroufim country, along the placid shores of the Nevirending Sea.

  “Who are we looking for, then?” I asked the boy. “Who among the wizards can seal the fringe?”

  “Methègama,” he replied, and the light of the world dimmed when he mentioned that name. The parade momentarily halted and some of the color in the world drained. It is an ancient name, a terrible name. “And it’s his pregnant mother who is currently in danger.” I shuddered at the thought. The same man who can seal the fringe is also the prophesied end of man. This same man will someday become solely responsible for the end of our world…

  And I had to save his life…without being able to make any changes to the past.

  “So what are we supposed to do, then?” I asked. The boy touched my face and said, “Look into the mirror.” I looked at the mirror. I looked like a different person altogether. “We can’t risk endangering your younger version,” he explained. “She has much to do in Weal while you fulfill a parallel purpose.”

  Before I had to time to process that, the boy took my hand and we moved again. We left Arkan and avoided Zambaur, traveling west of the Prison Kingdom along the Wand’ring Wood. At last, we arrived at our autumn lands, with our rolling verdant hills. We saw the Aegean camp at Hope’s Point. King Josef had already arrived with his friend, the Mercenary King Daerius of Caswell. I spotted a small contingent of warriors from the Temple-Kingdom of Hildreth patrolling the field with aplomb. “What now?” I asked the boy, frustrated as I was.

  “We can only watch,” he said, “and wait. There are others who have come to watch. We can certainly do something about them. Be ready, professor. The Numerii have arrived.”

  The Numerii? I wondered. Seven figures appeared on a hill overlooking the field. They wore black robes. The number twenty-eight was stitched in red on their right shoulders. One of them, presumably their leader, turned and drew a black sword. He had no face. The boy raced up the hill and attacked with a white power in his hands and eyes. He was difficult to follow amidst the chaos; he seemed to be at several different places at once, attacking all seven of the Numerii with different weapons. I was a scholar—not much of a fighter. And these were ancient Aegeans.

  Suddenly, a woman stood in front of me with her hand clasped around my neck. I blinked and there were six mirror images of the same woman surrounding me. “This one is seeking the book,” she said.

  “Spare her,” another hooded woman said. “She will lead us to it.”

  At that moment, I heard a low guttural growl behind us. The Numerii were gone in a flash.

  I raced up the hill and found the boy leaning against a tree, grievously wounded. He held fast to a wound on his side. I held him as he wept on my shoulder. “I must take my leave of you now,” the boy said. “It is up to you to ensure Methègama’s safety at all costs. The Numerii will come for him again and again until they succeed. It is the indomitable will of their master.”

  “Why should we protect him?” I asked. “If we let him die, we save millions of people he would have killed.” The boy looked at me with those beautiful, terrible eyes. I saw a comet soar across his eyes, as though a wish had come true.

  “Ana,” he began. “Is the future truly written in the stars? Do we not have a hand in shaping our own destiny? Are we not our own lords and masters? It is the same with Methègama. I have seen many possibilities in my future, and in every possibility, Methègama is my friend. I beseech you to stand here and watch for the next fifteen years. Remain vigilant and steadfast. Whet your sword and be ever watchful of the enemy.”

  “Beseech?” The boy struggled to stand before winking at me and disappearing altogether. I turned around and nearly jumped out of my shoes; the Numerii had already returned like dark shadows moving among the trees. I found a sword in the grass and weighed it in my hands.

  Unanticipated Dangers.

  The Great Eos War ended when Oleksandr the Minotaur King def
eated a demon-dragon named Bozorgmanesh. This terrible dragon was summoned by Master Outlandish as a last resort; the order to summon it was given by Methegama’s own father, Wizard King Jan of Aegea.

  It was, by all accounts, an incredible duel. Oleksandr spread his wings and met Bozorgmanesh in the sky. The dragon pursed his lips and blew a hot gale that singed the Minotaur King’s armor. He cast it off and skewered Bozorgmanesh with his spear. They fought madly, and eventually the monster crashed to the ground trailing fire and smoke and ash while the world alliance cheered. The demon-dragon fell on top of Master Outlandish, killing the old lord of Engodde, and the world alliance swept in to finish off the rest of the Aegean army. They drove many of them into the Nevirending Sea, and some were hunted for sport. Many were captured and enslaved only to be tortured and killed later. The healers of Azurea were rounded up and interned at Zambaur.

  But King Josef Saroufim feared the conjurors of Engodde the most, since they were able to summon dragons, serpents and the like. Therefore, as many of them as could be found were tied to stones and tossed into the ocean. It would not be excessive to say that the end of the Great Eos War was the darkest moment in the history of our young race.

  I stood