Arcana: A recollection

by Liberty of the Aether Project

  Chapter 8 – Out of time

  JACQUES HAD SEEN MANY GREAT STRUCTURES in Stromfor, but even he is impressed by Greatspire Castle. Its towers reach high for the heavens, overlooking the entire valley where the King had chosen to settle. While it did not use expensive materials, the stone used in its walls were elaborately chiseled to form great murals of battles and historically significant events to the kingdom of Harkon. Great stories had been told of how the fortress was unable to be conquered, as long as the men of Harkon live. With great pride, Brahm gazes at the castle, with its many soldiers and servants marching around the battlements. The group move forward towards its formidable gate, and Brahm calls up to the gate keeper.

  ‘I, the King’s brother, have returned from my journey! Please, lower the gates!’ Immediately, several voices call out, and the drawbridge lowers, enabling the caravan to pass into the castle.

  ‘Welcome back, Councilman!’ One of the soldiers calls from the ramparts. Moving inside, the true splendor of the castle finally reveals itself. Beautiful gardens cover much of the grounds. with many servants tending to them, weeding, pruning, and fertilising the soil.

  ‘This is it. Greatspire Castle. The home of the great king Malaach, my brother.’ Half listening, Jacques moves inspects the designs and stonework of the castle walls. Exceptional skill went into its creation, and he is amazed that they were able to achieve such precision with their chiseling without the use of magic to aid their construction.

  ‘Tell me more about your brother, Brahm.’ Isaac says.

  ‘He has been king of Harkon for approximately the last five years. Our father died of poisoning about a year before Malaach ascended to the throne. He has lead Harkon bravely and without complaint, as can be expected of any king.’ After his curiosity is satisfied, Jacques turns back to the group.

  ‘The skill of Harkonian craftsmen is truly splendid to behold.’ Unfortunately, upon hearing his accent, several of the guards begin to look at Jacques.

  ‘Please, he is my prisoner. He is serving out a sentence by acting in service of my caravan.’ With the authority of a Councilman looming over them, the guards quickly return to their own business, ignoring Jacques.

  ‘I think you should remain silent, for a while at least.’ Jacques nods, and quickly falls silent.

  ‘We should get about to business now. We’ve lingered in my brother’s courtyard for long enough.’

  Entering the castle’s main hall, the decorative walls becoming increasingly elaborate. Great banners embroidered with gold and silver thread sprawl across the hallway, and a grand figure sits atop a throne of carved marble. It could be none other than Malaach, king of Harkon. His grab is not as elaborate as Jacques had imagined that it might be, a red robe simply embroidered with silver and gold thread, designed more for comfort than grandauer. The man himself is of a similar build to Brahm. Solid and stout, obviously being a man who had worked hard in his youth. Brahm is eager to see him again.

  ‘Brother! It has been too long! How has the castle fared in my absence?’ Expecting his brother’s usual warm welcome, Brahm is surprised to see his brother not even smile. Uneasy, Brahm attempts to discern the situation.

  ‘What is the matter, brother? Are you not happy to see me?’

  ‘That is an understatement, Brahm.’ A figure skulks from the crowd of Malaach’s attendants, stepping forward to speak.

  ‘We have evidence that Councilman Brahm has treacherous motivations and seeks to undermine Harkonian interests.’ Infuriated at these accusations, Brahm shouts at the figure.

  ‘I would never betray my own brother! What is this act of treason?’ Unfurling a scrool, the figure begins to reas from it.

  ‘A recorded log of the dialogue shared between Brahm and his Arcanian prisoner, Jacques. This log was recorded by the King’s most trusted agent, and there is no doubting its contents. In this conversation, the two of them conspire to form a foolish peace with Arcana, and in addition, to manipulate the King’s court.’

  ‘Jacques is an ambassador of Arcana. He genuinely believes in forming peace between us, and I fully support this cause! Is it treason to wish for our mutual prosperity?!’

  ‘Peace with Arcana? Brother, you have brought this Arcanian before me… to discuss PEACE?’ With no attempt made to hide his rage, the King takes large and deliberate steps from his throne.

  ‘Where was this wish for peace when Arcanians killed my father while he slept? Where was peace when countless sons have been sent to war against them? Where was peace when our borderlands have been raided constantly for the last few centuries?’ Spitting in Jacques’ direction, he signals his guards.

  ‘I will tell you where this wish was. Nowhere. It did not exist. And it most certainly does not exist now.’ Inching up to Brahm’s face, he glares accusingly into Brahm’s eyes.

  ‘Brother, you have been manipulated by this Arcanian from the very beginning. He has used his magic to warp your mind and made you his slave. I had believed you to be stronger than that. Alas, I am disappointed. You are fortunate that I was informed of his ill intent ahead of time. Despite your betrayal, I wouldn’t have wished the hatred you would have received as one of the men who conspired in my dethroning.’

  ‘No, my king. My mind is my own, and I genuinely believe in what Jacques has to offer. We have worked together in order to achieve this. I beg you, as your brother and your councilman, to please consider this proposal for peace.’ Waving his hand, Malaach signals his guards to take away his brother and Jacques, along with Brahm’s troops and Isaac. They are escorted into the dungeons of Greatspire Castle, a most loathsome place which is reserved only for the King’s greatest enemies. Despair is consuming Brahm, as he tries to understand how his brother had changed in such a short period of time. After being disarmed, they are all thrown into separate cells. Jacques’ face is completely emotionless as he is shoved inside his cell. Brahm feels as though he is completely lost.

  ‘I don’t understand. Brother, what happened to you?’ Calling across the room, Jacques offers a reply.

  ‘I suspect there have been manipulators at work in your absence, Brahm. He knew of me and my Arcanian origins. Someone would’ve played off his suspicion and furthered his paranoia.’

  ‘Who could’ve done this?! I will see to it that these manipulators are executed!’

  ‘If the king is going to do what I suspect he will, then you will not got a chance.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘I believe he’s going to execute all of us. Me, you, Isaac, your men...’ At the same time, Brahm feels defiant and helpless. He bashes his hands against the bars of his cell hopelessly.

  ‘No... I won’t die like this. I refuse to.’

  Rising to his full height, Jacques wanders to the front of his cell. Something, however, seems wrong with him. Brahm sees great fear in Jacques’ eyes, just as he was when he saw the eldritch pillar.

  ‘Brahm... I am afraid I have very bad news for all of us. I feel it...’

  ‘No, not the darkness. Please Jacques, tell me it’s not the darkness.’

  ‘It is. Somewhere in this castle, there is an eldritch pillar being constructed right now. The manipulators are the very same cultists who have haunted me for much of my life.’ Brahm’s fear returns to him, as he thinks of the sinister pillar they had destroyed not so long ago.

  ‘Jacques, do you know where it is?’

  ‘I’m afraid it might be too late. It gains power even as we speak. It will not be long before they finish building it, and I cannot discern its exact location.’ Just as he finishes speaking, the first guardsman watching the dungeons starts banging on the bars of their prisons.

  ‘All of you are to be executed at dawn. You are to remain silent for the rest of this day.’ With that, he sits himself in a chair and watches them all intently.

  ‘Oh look, the great Councilman’s nothing now. You’re just another filthy prison rat like the rest of these hapless souls. The king belongs to us now, and soon you
will all die.’’ He laughs to himself while mockingly pointing at Brahm. Enraged at this mockery, Brahm slams his fists against his door.

  ‘How dare you do this to my beloved brother! I will see you hung for this!’ Isaac, having overheard their conversation, becomes extremely gloomy. He did not wish to die here, and his chronicle would be left forgotten. He had come to admire these two men greatly, and did not wish for their tale to end on a sour note. However, Jacques has not given up yet.

  ‘I did not think I would be doing this twice in my life.’ he mutters to himself. Summoning his power, he begins to focus on the guardsman’s mind, taking control of him. It was much harder to perform than in his youth, and the guardsman fights him with everything he has. What results is the guard flailing wildly all over the dungeon’s floor. Jacques manages to cause him to throw the keys into his cell, which he then quickly uses to free himself. The soldier, indignant at being controlled, strikes at Jacques viciously. The unarmed Arcanian manages to dodge it and elbows him sharply in the face, causing him to loosen his grip on his sword. Swiftly grabbing it, Jacques buries its blade clean through his skull, killing him instantly. He moves to release his companions, hastily fumbling at the keys.

  ‘What did you do, Jacques?’ Brahm asks suspiciously.

  ‘... Mind control. I regret it, but I had no choice here. We have to move to the armoury immediately. You need your war hammer if we are to stop this evil before it can spread.’ Though what he witnessed nags at him, Brahm reluctantly agrees.

  ‘Alright, men! You know where the armoury is!’ With a cheer, they storm out of the dungeons, quickly making it to the armoury and retrieving their arms. Brahm, feeling secure in recovering his armour, rests his war hammer on his shoulder.

  ‘Direct me, Jacques. Where must we go?’ Before Jacques can respond, a sudden rumble echoes through the castle. He remains silent as further rumbles follow.

  ‘It has manifested itself. It’s coming now. Its path is straight for the King.’ Petrified at this thought, Brahm immediately moves towards the throne room, only to be stopped by Jacques.

  ‘You can do nothing to protect him. This is my battle to fight. All you can do is find the pillar and destroy it. I might have a chance at victory then. Isaac, you should go with him.’ Jacques takes a few steps towards Brahm.

  ‘There is little limit to what can be done with magic. So, I shall make you see magic for yourself Brahm. It will allow you to seek the pillar.’ With a quiet chant, Brahm feels something interfering with his senses. He sees flashes of light and glimpses of things he had never seen before, just brief flashes of beings of light, shadow and beyond the mortal realm. Soon, the flashing stops, and he experiences whole new sensations.

  ‘While you are using this sight, I can’t use it myself. I will need one of your troops to guide me to the throne room.’ One person immediately steps forward, nodding. With no more spoken, Jacques runs off, heading towards Malaach.

  Malaach sits lazily upon his throne, only to be disturbed by rumbles within the castle. He looks out, and notices that the rumbling seems to be approaching his throne room.

  ‘Guards, could you please proceed to the front of the hall?’ Instead of obeying, his guards did not even move. Though he is about to shout at them to move, he stops when he sees the wicked grins they are giving him.

  ‘Welcome to your end.’ One of them says emotionlessly. Before the king even realises what’s happening, a billowing black cloud completely envelop his troops. Fearfully, he tries to slink away from his throne, but the blackness seems to seek him out. He closes his eyes, ready for it to consume him. Nothing happens to him, and he opens his eyes. Jacques stands there, his hands raised against the darkness. His potent magic crackles fiercely, pushing the shadow back away from the King. The sudden appearance of the mage causes the shadow to reel for a moment before recovering.

  ‘It is you… The gifted one who escaped us. Jacques, we regret allowing you to escape. When you die, we will bring balance.’

  ‘No. I will erase any trace of your existence.’

  ‘Do you believe yourself to be serving a righteous cause? This man has brought great evil and enabled great horrors to occur. We will consume him, and in time all of this land will be avenged.’ Gritting his teeth, Jacques does not relent. Malaach looks on in awe of Jacques’ effort, unable to understand why the Arcanian is defending him. He does not complain though, and watches as the incredible battle unfolds. Jacques does not let up much ground, but the darkness is slowly winning. Powered by the pillar hidden inside the castle, its assault is relentless. Jacques can feel blood slowly seeping from his eyes. All of his hope is now with Brahm and Isaac.

  Using the newfound sight Jacques had granted him, Brahm singles in on the pillar’s location, Isaac and his troops trailing behind him.

  ‘If anyone tries to stop us, cut them down!’ He shouts. The majority of Malaach’s guards are unaware of the situation, so they simply look on with puzzled expressions as Brahm charges forward, with Isaac and his troops not far behind. They become even more puzzled as they feel the tremors echo through the castle. Eventually, they come to an abandoned wing of the castle. It had been long shut due to poor craftsmanship and lack of stability in the structure. While it had normally been barred close, it is now curiously open.

  ‘Of course, the miserable bastards would build their foul monument here.’ Brahm mutters to himself. With no hesitation, he steps inside the structure. Deep tunnels had been borrowed beneath this wing, which eventually lead to its instability. Jacques’ sight gave him the utmost clarity, enabling his eyes to pierce the darkness and find his way. While the abandoned wing would have proven to be a labyrinth elsewise, he knows exactly where to go. His troops follow him, unsure if he truly knows the way. However, they eventually come into a lesser hallway, and they gasp quietly in awe of the monument. Glowing malevolently, the pillar is surrounded by a huge crowd of cultists. It is thinner and its structure seems weaker than the other one, due to hasty construction. They chant eerily, and constantly bow down to the pillar. A single voice is heard over the noise of their chants.

  ‘It is fitting that the rebirth of this world begins at the focal point of its failure, Greatspire Castle. Our lord will wipe this world clean, and we will begin anew.’ Finally finding a tagret for his frustration, Brahm raises his hammer high.

  ‘Slaughter them! Leave not one alive!’ Following this, a great battle cry echoes from his troops, and even Isaac feels their fervour. The cultists have little time to react as Brahm dsecends upon them. Bones snap beneath his mighty war hammer like twigs. Unfortunately, the cultists begin pulling out weapons of their own, and a great battle breaks out between the two forces. Bram is bogged down by the cultists, even though he tries his best to carve a path towards the pillar. Isaac, having picked up a discarded weapon, comes to his side, striking down the vile zealots, gradually reaching the pillar which needed to be destroyed. The head cultist stands there, ready to die in the defence of the artifact. His weapon of choice is a gigantic great sword, eager to drink the blood of Brahm’s men.

  ‘To me! We must reach the pillar! Jacques is counting on us!’ His men rally around him, and they form a shield which pushes back the cultists, enabling Brahm to finally reach the pillar. The leader takes a huge swing at him, which he barely dodges in time. The cultist finds himself skewered by a quick thinking Isaac, and dies quickly. With the last of his strength, Brahm raises his hammer for one last incredible strike. Upon impact, the entire pillar quivers. A gigantic crack forms in the middle of it, but it still continues to glow. Exhausted, Brahm cannot raise it for a second swing. Gathering his courage, Isaac picks it up, barely able to lift the gigantic weapon. Mustering all of his strength, Isaac manages to swing it at the pillar, finishing Brahm’s work. With a great sound of stone cracking, the pillar topples over, landing on some of the less fortunate combatants. The cultists, having lost their cause to fight, flee immediately, scurrying into the depths of the long abandoned wing.


  Jacques is now barely able to stand, let alone hold up against the shadow which seeks to destroy him. It eagerly expands forward, mocking him while doing so.

  ‘You will fail, and you will die.’ Just as he is about to lose out, the darkness reels back and lets out a noise similar to a scream. Jacques grins to himself.

  ‘You did it, Brahm. Now, I will give this world my final gift. An end to this evil.’ Tapping into his very life force, Jacques surges with powerful magic, trapping the inky blackness before it can escape. With one last great effort, he focuses all of his power into one last spell, intent on nothing else but the destruction of his enemy. The darkness howls greatly, and even Brahm hears its death cry. Great shudders echo through the castle, and then an uneasy silence sets in. Jacques stands for a moment, and feels blood trickle out of his mouth and nose.

  ‘I am sorry, Brahm. I am sorry, Isaac. It looks like not all of us will survive this.’ His strength leaves him completely, and he collapses onto the cold stone floor of the throne room. It is not long before Brahm and Isaac rush inside, only to see the King kneeling down before Jacques’ crumbled body.

  ‘Why… I am your enemy. Why did you save me?’ Malaach asks him. In between coughing up blood and turning deathly pale, Jacques speaks weakly.

  ‘Because… You are not... My enemy....’ He turns to Brahm and Isaac, offering a weak smile.

  ‘Isaac… Remember... my final words... Write... them down....’ Jacques pleads with him.

  ‘We… have killed each other for so long, king of Harkon... So many have died… For the stupidity of war…’ His words become softer and softer, as his life begins to fade away.

  ‘Please… Stop fighting… No more orphans… No more death… Bring peace between… Our people…’ He stops to catch his breath, slowly gathering the last of his strength to speak a few last words.

  ‘Isaac… has my story… I can die… without any regrets.’ Falling silent, Jacques passes out. Wasting no time, Brahm quickly checks for a pulse. It is there, but it is extremely faint.

  ‘Quickly, get this man to the physician!’ Commands Brahm, his voice carrying through each hall of the castle.

  Watching over his weak friend, Brahm sits there hour after hour. Isaac comes too, and keeps vigil over Jacques. They wait and wait for him to come back from his unconscious state like he always did before. In the castle’s frigid air, Jacques’ last misty breath dissipates into the air, and a deathly silence settles into his room. Brahm’s face becomes like stone as he watches his friend pass into the afterlife. Neither he nor Isaac say anything for some time, before Brahm breaks the silence.

  ‘He’s gone… It’s hard to think it, but that wily Arcanian is finally gone.’ When the news spreads through the castle, Malaach comes to the room to pay his respects. He bows before the lifeless Jacques respectfully and with humility.

  ‘A stranger, and an Arcanian, gave his life so that I might live. He fought an unspeakable evil, so that I might live. I wish for him to have a funeral here, and be given the utmost respect and honour that our kingdom can bestow. Send a diplomat to the Arcanian council as well. I wish for peace negotiations to begin immediately.’ Pausing, he looks over to Isaac.

  ‘Scholar, I wish to have this man’s story read at the funeral. Everyone must know of his legend.’

  Soon after Jacques’ death, a grand funeral is held at Greatspire Castle, inviting noblemen from all over Harkon to pay their respects. No one dares to disrespect the deceased Arcanian in front of the king, and all of them listen as Isaac reads the chronicles he and Jacques had assembled, including the more recent stories they had through the Giant’s Spine. With each word spoken, they all began to understand Arcana in much the way Jacques started to understand Harkon. In time, they all respected him truthfully and with great dignity. Jacques’ grave is dug in a plot originally intended only for the graves of dead kings, where his resting place would be protected for as long Harkon stands. The king’s diplomats were immediately dispatched after the funeral, and receive a favourable response from Stromfor’s council. Peace is officially declared, though it settles uneasily among both nations. The mutual hatred between the two nations does not disappear immediately. Small rebellions occur with the Harkonian and Arcanian ranks, but they were swiftly put down. Brahm is one of the forefront men of the peace efforts, helping Arcanian troops and Harkonian troops alike. Isaac, who had joined the King’s official group of scribes, spends much of the time after Jacques’ death pondering. In time, he grows tired of books and writing, and finally chooses to live in dedication of his old friend. One of adventuring and discovery. When Brahm passes by the scribes’ chambers to check in on Isaac, he only found the chronicles Isaac had created with Jacques left behind.

  About the author

  Little can be said about Liberty for now. What can be said, however, is that Liberty’s interest in writing began in high school, when he started writing short stories as practice. He particularly enjoyed the works of the author H. P. Lovecraft during this time period. Since then, he has written many stories, but Arcana: a Recollection is the first one he has shared with the world. He hopes to share more in the future.