The Ranger: Apollo's Story (Tales of Welkinia Book 2)

by J. M. Ivie

  Duncan dropped the stick, looking at me. His stormy blue eyes swirling with darkness. “Yes. I may be one of the few who still recall that name. Why do you ask?” His calm and reserved demeanor returned, and he settled down on the log next to me, leaning his elbows on his knees as he sought my eyes.

  “It’s a strange story.” I cracked a smile. “A man told me I would be the father to Clades… right before he tried to kill me. He looked out of his mind. His eyes—”

  “He looked as if he hadn’t slept in a t’ousand years?” Duncan added. “That would be a Praefor, you most likely ran into the youngest, Gigan. They aren’t exactly human.”

  I waited for him to continue, watching as he poked the fire, causing a plethora of flames to spill upward.

  “The Praefor are a race of a creature, given the gift of foresight and life eternal. They are rather peaceful—mostly. Gigan has been known to make hasty choices and act with very little thinking involved.” Duncan smiled, patting my shoulder, “Maybe you aren’t to be the father of Clades, my boy. But, if Gigan had seen a vision with you and Clades, I would keep in mind the severity of the situation.”

  “Duncan, what is Clades?”

  He took in a deep breath, the muscles in his jaw tightening as he pressed his teeth together. “They say Clades… it brings the end of everything. A creature who can devour an entire realm.”

  ___

  I slipped into the tent that night, utterly drained. I had strained every ounce of my body and my muscles were sore. I pulled the blanket back, ready to slip into my crudely-made cot, when a loud gurgling chirp resonated from below the covers.

  I stumbled a step back, pulling my knife out as I planted my feet.

  “You are a jumpy one,” Barak muttered from behind me.

  I sheathed my knife, kneeling down and inspecting the creature. Two bright orange eyes stared at me from the safety of the cot, bobbing his fluff-covered head up and down. I crouched down, edging closer to the creature. “I think—” I began, “I think it’s an owl.”

  Barak clapped his hands, “Well done.”

  “You know what it is, don’t you?”

  “I assumed it to be an owl. But, since there are nearly none in the world to compare it to, I could be wrong.”

  I nodded, inching closer to the owlet, “Where do you suppose it came from?”

  “Another owl.”

  I groaned, looking up at Barak. “Helpful.”

  He shrugged, kneeling down beside me and looking at the creature, “I do not believe you will find its parents. It is up to you to take care of it now, Apollo.”

  “What in Welkinia are you saying? I need to care for it?”

  “I see no one else here willing to care for an owlet. Besides, it climbed into your cot, not mine.” Barak pointed to his pack, “I have some dried meat in there. If you leave it out for long enough below a trap, you could catch a small normid within an hour. The owlet can eat one whole if it’s small enough.”

  I cocked my head to the side, “You are telling me it doesn’t need to chew?”

  The corners of Barak’s mouth quirked upward. “I do not see teeth, so no, I suppose not.” He reached into his bag and pulled out the meat. “You should go set a trap. I will get a few hours sleep before I try my hand at the Anarchist again. I see he is almost ready to give up.”

  My stomach groaned, lurching upward till I’d expected to be sick. “This really doesn’t feel right Barak…”

  “It does not have to. This is war, Apollo. And I plan on ending it.”

  “At what cost?”

  Barak rolled his shoulder, his eyes settling on mine. The darkness that enveloped them seemed to be made of something other-worldly. “Tiasoko.”

  Fiermontian. One word which needed three to explain. A word warriors often said before war…

  At whatever cost.

  F O R T Y - F I V E

  MIDNIGHT’S MOONS HUNG OVER the treetops, casting silver rays through the leaves. The creek beside me bubbled and splashed along the pebble-lined bank as it wound its way down the hillside toward the lonely valley. Stones, as white as alabaster peppered the shore, covered over with moss and algae. The soft grass invited me to lie on its silken bed and put aside my sorrows.

  I closed my eyes and breathed out. My muscles, knotted and sore, relaxed, aided along by the crisp night air and the gentle rush of water beside me. The familiar smell of roses and vanilla filled the air.

  “Apollo…”

  Zahra’s voice whispered in my memories. This happened before, many times, all while I drifted off to sleep. Still, I opened my eyes and searched for her. As the many times before, she wasn’t there. The ghost of a memory was all I had.

  “You’re all alone, sir.”

  I turned my head, spotting a woman standing on the other side of the stream. Her long hair hung down, covering her body which appeared to be draped in a thin, silk gown.

  “Do you wait for someone?” she asked, stepping a milk-white foot forward. Her voice sounded like a chime, a delicate bell which danced in the wind.

  I shook my head, half in a daze by the woman’s beauty, half in a state of uncertainty. Is this a dream? “Where have you come from, my lady?” I asked, cocking my head to the side. She had warm eyes, and a honey-sweet smile. Her pink lips pursed as she turned her gaze to the ground, shaking her head.

  “Might I sit beside you, sir?” She looked around, biting her bottom lip as if she were anxious about something.

  “If it were to bring you a sense of comfort, then yes,” I said, still unsure if I were trapped within a dream or if I were still in reality.

  The woman waded into the stream, dipping her hand into the cool water as it wrapped around her knees. “It really is a beautiful night, is it not?” she whispered, pausing. “A person could get lost in its pureness.”

  I nodded. “You will catch cold if you stay in the water, my lady. How far are you from your home?”

  “Oh, how the lantern flowers glow! Does it not light up the water?” She turned in the stream, allowing the lights of the surrounding forest to dance off her figure.

  I turned my eyes away.

  “Why do you turn, sir?” The woman asked. “Am I not pleasing to look at?”

  “My lady—”

  “Please, call me Thymia,” she whispered, walking out of the water. She sat on the bank, mere feet away.

  My heart thudded in my chest. I was torn between staying and running.

  “You are a handsome man, sir. Why is it you are alone in the wood?” She inched closer, tucking the locks of straight brown hair behind her ear. “Have you come searching for me?”

  “No, miss Thymia.” My muscles tensed. “I was not aware there was anyone in these woods.”

  She smiled, resting her hand against mine. “Now, you know. I can show you my home and you can lay your weary head to sleep.” She drew closer, her eyes glossing over as she looked at me.

  “I’d rather not…” My feeble attempt at saying no convinced her less than it convinced myself.

  The snap of a nearby twig echoed behind us. Thymia shuffled a few inches back.

  “I’m sorry, am I interrupting something?” It was Zane’s voice. I turned, seeing him leaning against the trunk of an oak tree just beside me.

  “No, kind sir. Perhaps you would wish to join? I have sisters, women who would enjoy the company of a man such as you.” Thymia’s voice sounded saccharine—dripping with dulcet sweetness.

  “No, I’m good,” Zane stated, scratching his neck and rattling a few arrows in his quiver. “It’s late out. I suggest you go home and warn your sisters to not roam the woods at night. There are many dangers you might stumble into.”

  Thymia bowed her head, casting one last sultry glance in my direction. “Very well, my lord. I bid you farewell.”

  With that, she waded into the stream once more, and vanished beyond the dark veil of trees.

  “Apollo,” Zane began, sitting down beside me, “perhaps you should be mo
re on guard. Not all women are safe, and not all men are dangerous. That woman, she was a Water Wraith, creatures which inhabit Luxterra.”

  My head cleared, and I looked at Zane. I dared not ask what would have happened if I followed her. “Thank you,” I said in a hoarse voice. “If you hadn’t come…”

  Zane smiled. “You saved me. It’s only fair I try to return the favor.”

  ___

  “So, what of the rest?” Zane asked, tilting his head to the side. It had been an hour since the woman left, and Zane and I sat talking below the canopy of the trees. I hadn’t expected us to get along as well as we did.

  “There are no others. It was just me and four other men. You see Barak, and Niall—” I looked up at the sky, “there’s a tug and pull between our beliefs. Barak especially.”

  Zane bit the grass blade gingerly, moving it around between his teeth. “Which, I’m guessing, is the reason there’s such tension between you two.”

  I raised my head, looking him in the eyes. “There’s no tension—”

  “Oh, there is!” Zane laughed, shaking his head. “But, he truly cares for you as if you were brothers.”

  The lonely and listless expression in Zane’s eyes as he spoke urged me to inquire further. “Are the Riders like family, Zane?”

  His brows knitted upward as he breathed out, “No. They—” he bit his lip. “Half of them are dead. A new group is being trained, which I was to be present for.”

  “Is that why you wish to go back?”

  “No…” he managed. “I wish to go back because of my father. I only wish to make him proud, and it seems like the only thing that ever made him proud of me was the day I was accepted into the Core. I don’t want to disappoint him.”

  I nodded, leaning my back against the tree, “Fathers… they’re the one person in the world you want to impress.” Pain stung my stomach.

  Zane smiled a half-certain, half weary grin. “Yes. My mother had always been supportive of me… but, it was my father’s opinion which seemed to matter most. I can’t make heads or tails of it.”

  “Neither can I. But—” I stretched my arm, “if your father wishes you to be someone you aren’t, then you need to turn tail and go where you need to. Where you’re called to go.”

  Zane sighed and looked over the water, “How?”

  “You need to explain it to him. I’d go home, tell him what I thought and what I believed, and let him make up his own mind.”

  Zane nodded slowly. The faraway look in his eyes said something words couldn’t. A story hidden within the layers of his soul and heart.

  “So, Apollo… You said you were at the Woodlands?”

  I nodded, unsure of where this was going.

  “How is the Princess? Is she well?” he asked, looking up at me. His ice-blue eyes caught the silver light of the moon, making them appear to be glowing.

  “Yes, she’s well,” I said. “Why do you ask?”

  He shrugged, his finger sliding up and down the wood of the bow, “We are old friends. I haven’t seen her since she was twelve and haven’t heard from her since. I thought I’d inquire.”

  “That’s understandable.” I wondered how he knew her, and why she had never mentioned him. Perhaps he was someone she wished to forget… or someone she didn’t know as well as he claimed. Laramie knew many people.

  “Have I upset you?” Zane’s voice disrupted me from my thoughts. I must have been scowling. I didn’t mean to scowl. It was a habit when I thought.

  “No.” I offered him a smile.

  “Apollo!” Barak’s voice pierced the peaceful veil of calm we had. “I broke him. Ready yourself, we fly to Arclend at dawn.”

  F O R T Y - S I X

  THE WIND SANK ITS FANGS into my body and bit my skin with teeth of iron and ice. The frigid summer of Arclend seemed to make the bitter winters on Luxterra seem like a scorching fire. Every bone in my body ached and pleaded for warmth. Mountains towered in the distance, shadowing the land with gray vastness.

  “A storm is brewing!” Zane yelled, driving his spike into the ground. “I doubt we will make it to that place in time!”

  “We can not stop!” Barak shouted, pulling the thick wool coat tighter to his body. It appeared I wasn’t the only one suffering.

  Duncan, Tesla, and Crimsyn followed close behind. Where Niall vanished to, I didn’t know.

  “Well, can we at least wait the storm out? You don’t want to be stuck in the middle of an Arclendic blizzard!” Zane raised his voice above the howling wind, his dark hair whipping across his face. “Give it an hour, it should pass. They don’t last long in summer.”

  I could feel Barak’s agitation rise, heating the area with his coiling rage. “Fine.”

  “Ah, what about Niall?” Duncan asked, covering his mouth with his scarf, “Should one of us find him?”

  “No! I hope he has gotten lost in the blizzard,” Tesla stuttered. “He’s more beast than man.”

  “Oh, come on now, Tes. You can’t be afraid Niall, can you?” Crimsyn jeered, rolling her eyes. “Or are you scared of him ‘cause he’s different?”

  Tesla’s brows furrowed as he shouted out an emphatic, “Absolutely not! Look at Barak! He and Niall are both the odd ones out in the group… but I don’t feel uneasy around him.”

  “And here I thought you did not know I was of a different race,” Barak raised a brow. “You have advanced to the head of class.”

  “I—I didn’t… that isn’t what I meant!” Tesla grew white in the face.

  We all laughed as Duncan clapped Tesla on the back. “Well, now you know better, aye lad?”

  He nodded quickly, and we soon found shelter in a cave. We dropped our packs, looking around the place. Ice formed stalactites from the ceiling, plummeting down toward us like weapons crafted from winter.

  “Guys!” Tesla yelled. “Where is Zane?”

  We all looked around, not finding him anywhere. “Perhaps he is still out there?” I walked to the entrance, only to be stopped by a firm hand on my shoulder.

  “No, Apollo.” Crimsyn lowered her voice, “What Zane said was true. You cannot go out in a blizzard. If he’s still out there, he will find a safe spot.”

  “I can’t—”

  “Listen, please! I know Arclend. Zane has a better chance out there than you.”

  I groaned as I sat. “Once the storm lets up, I’m looking for him.”

  Duncan nodded. “Don’t forget about your wee owlet, me boy.”

  My stomach flipped as I checked my bag. Scout was nestled comfortably between the bunches of warm lantern flowers. He slept, oblivious to the world outside. “Thanks for the reminder, Duncan.” The pain of having to take care of an owlet while embarking on a dangerous mission was more than I had expected. Duncan assured me I could leave the owlet with his son, Titus, who was on Arclend training the new Peregrines. Convenient.

  “I’ll tread off the beaten path and show Titus the owlet while you all go on ahead. I’ll catch up with you at the second location.”

  “Are you sure, Duncan?” I asked, petting Scout’s fluffy head.

  “Absolutely. It’s been a long while since I’ve seen my son. Plus, you can’t be hoping to bring the owlet into a battle situation, can ya?”

  ___

  Thunder split the skies with its deafening roar as lightning slashed the atmosphere once again. The rage of the new gale forced us to take shelter in an Arclendic grog shop. It had been a long time since I stepped foot in a tavern… and I wasn’t looking forward to denying the drink.

  Niall had found us moments before we left the cave. He claimed Itia, the goddess of mercy, saved him.

  It seemed like none of us were convinced.

  We each settled into a seat around a table and Tesla produced several rubyes. “Glad Duncan gave these to me before he left and didn’t forget like that one time,” he said as a waiter came over.

  We each requested a tumbler of ale; I asked for cider instead. The man looked at me oddly, but nodde
d. It wasn’t for me… I didn’t wish for any intoxicating drink to touch my tongue… not since I had to endure the withdrawals from the silver potion.

  “When will the storm pass?” Tesla asked.

  Niall looked outside. “I don’t know. I was on Arclend for four weeks once, but that gave little information when it stormed or when it didn’t. The storms are random, and unpredictable.”

  Crimsyn smirked.

  “Do you know, Crim?”

  She shrugged. “Nope, not in this area, Tes. Perhaps someone here knows…”

  Niall and Tesla both asked around. It was hilarious, seeing a group of young soldiers become so intimidated by Niall. There were men that were rough, with lines along their faces and cuts along their bodies, or missing limbs and eyes. These men had seen the worst of things, some more than likely were veterans of war.

  “You have but an hour till the gale passes,” one man, whose left arm and eye were missing, stated. He had a gravelly voice—one that would soothe rather than irritate.

  “Thank you, sir.” Tesla bowed his head.

  “Welcome.” The man winked with his one eye. He looked around and gestured to the door. “I’ll leave now, lads. Stay safe, watch out for the blizzard. It can come and go with the sleep of the Snowbeast.”

  We looked at each other—confused. Crimsyn and Barak seemed to be the only ones who understood.

  ___

  We arrived at the place where Qai-Lin, the commander we captured, had directed us to. The mountain peeled over a strangely shaped fortress burrowed into the cordillera. Gray stones checkered the side of the mountains, and I stared in wonder. “What is this?”

  “The castle of Cakolo. Back during the conquest of Kings, Baron Vince Cakolo brought Arclend to its knees with his incredible power. No one knows how, but the people rose against Cakolo and they slew him in his castle. To this day it is rumored that his soul still lingers in the halls. If legend is true, the Baron is bound to this place for eternity,” Barak muttered.