Tales Of Eleutheros

by S D Huss

  “Robert… leaving now would doom these people. They will need your help to win this war… I have seen what the Lokkadonians do to their Doulos… it is something that would cause any with a conscience to pause. You’re better than this…” Dio’Mar’s image began to grow, until she stood face to face with him, her eyeless face, stoic and unmoving, but somehow bristling with emotion. She was passionate about this, for some reason.

  “These people captured and tortured me,” Robert said, the memory of his ordeal creeping back like a weed.

  “No… the very same people who now march on this kingdom… they are the ones who did that to you… I am the patron spirit of Rexun… and I will not leave them.”

  Robert looked to the ground, his mind a mess of thoughts and feelings. “You said you would help me return home. You swore to me that you would do that if I helped you out of your prison. Well, you’re out now, and I need to get back to my friends. Rexun survived without you for thousands of years… whats a few more days?”

  Dio’Mar was silent for several tedious moments until she finally nodded her head. “I will follow you, Robert… I will help you escape… but I know you will never forgive yourself for this… that woman, those people… they are remnants of your past now, irrelevant splinters. Relics of a time when you were weak and powerless… here, you are a prince and a man of strength… if you are looking to revert yourself back to who you were… then so be it…”

  Robert grabbed his cloak and packed a large bag of supplies. He was going to leave before he had a chance to change his mind. He left from his room at a half run, his heart beating in his chest like a bass drum. He smiled, passing guards and nobles in the halls who looked at him curiously for his hurried behavior.

  “My Prince?” A familiar female voice called from in front of him. His eyes met with the dynamic green ones of Demessa, who looked at him in confusion. “Where are you off to?” She asked.

  “I, uh…” He stuttered, trying to think of an excuse. “I need to leave the city, there are, uh… some very dangerous abilities Dio’Mar is trying to show me, it could change the course of the war!” He spit the words out in a jumble, he never was a good liar, but her curious look turned into one of understanding.

  “Yes, of course. Would you like me to accompany you? I have been instructed to look after you, after all.”

  “No!” He said, putting his hand on her shoulder. “It’s too dangerous, and I don’t want to accidentally hurt you. You know how it is. Besides, Dio’Mar is with me. I'll be fine.”

  This time Demessa raised a speculative eyebrow at the stuttering words and erratic behavior of Robert. “My Prince, are you well?” Her eyes glanced to the large bag he had on his shoulders, and the pieces started to come together. “How long will you be gone, Prince Reku?”

  Robert’s eyes glazed slightly, and she opened her mouth to speak again, this time her face was stern. Robert cut her off before she could.

  “I’m sorry… Demessa. Goodbye.” He said as he evaporated into thin air.

  “Prince Reku!” She shouted, lunging forward to try and catch his invisible form. “Reku!!”

  -

  Alektor closed his eyes and rubbed at his aching brow. Hours of meetings and staring at maps and charts had taken its toll on the man, but still, he had a long line of representatives and politicians waiting outside his chambers to meet with him. He sighed heavily and looked at several tomes that were stacked on his desk. They were bound in a tattered leather, but still clearly very high quality. He rested his hand on them, remembering his father's words when they were gifted by him. He closed his eyes and immersed himself in that moment again.

  Suddenly there was a loud knock at the door and some commotion outside. His eyes opened to find he was still in his chambers, and he growled for whoever it was who disturbed his thoughts to enter. The door slid open, and Demessa approached and bowed her head.

  “Your Majesty, I fear there is something very wrong with Prince Reku.” She blurted out before Alektor had a chance to complain about her intrusion.

  Alektor’s eyes narrowed and he sat up in his chair. “What now?”

  “I saw him in the hall, not too long ago. He was carrying a large bag and seemed to be very flustered. Before I could confront him, he… he disappeared. I do not want to believe that he would abandon us, but… I felt I should speak to you directly.”

  Numbness followed the news, and he knew that Robert was lost to him. The one true advantage he possessed in the coming war was now on its way to his enemy. A pang of guilt battered him, and a familiar emptiness grew in the pit of his stomach.

  “Let him go.” He said, after several moments, no sign of his inner turmoil in his voice. He waved his hand dismissively at her, and she turned to leave.

  “Oh, and Demessa,” Alektor called, stopping her in mid-stride. “Do not let Turak pursue him. We will find our own way.”

  ◆◆◆

  “Like hell!” Turak raged. “I will not accept this betrayal!”

  “My Lord, King Alektor explicitly requested that we refrain from following him. This is-” Demessa was cut off by a bag of gear being thrown at her.

  “Damn him for his inaction, this is not just a tactical disaster, it is treachery of the highest order! He would choose these humans over us now? After all this time? After all we have done for him?”

  “My Lord.” Demessa continued. “With all due respect, we don’t even know where he’s going. He didn't really say much in that regard. We will be running off, blind and against the king's orders.”

  Turak scoffed. “You have little faith in me Demessa, I’m wounded by this.” He looked at her, true fury in his eyes. He seemed to be taking this quite personally.

  “I have my own ways of finding him. He thinks he is undetectable with these new powers, but he can be seen. His illusions do have weaknesses. Only to those who know what to look for.”

  “There really isn’t much to find,” Demessa said, curious. “Not even a shimmer in the air.”

  Turak finished assembling his gear and walked next to her. Placing his hand on her shoulder, he sighed. “We aren’t looking for him with our eyes.”

  chapter 42

  Robert poked at his small campfire with a stick, losing his thoughts in the bright, dancing flames. He had been traveling virtually alone for the past three days, keeping himself hidden for most of the time. Dio’Mar was there but said very little to him since their first discussion on his somewhat recklessly planned escape from Rexun. He knew she wouldn’t understand; she lived here. Robert had thought about going home every day since his arrival. And though he had become fascinated with the powers and people of Pelemont, he longed for the normalcy of his old life.

  “How far?” He asked, casually drinking water from a canteen around his waist.

  “Another day…” Dio’Mar said, her voice tiny and small.

  Robert nodded in affirmation, refusing to continue the conversation further. He began to open his pack to pull out his blankets for sleep, but paused when he saw the form of Dio’Mar appear before him, looking to the north.

  “What is it?” He asked, pausing as the tension grew.

  “Something…” She whispered. “Something terrible is happening there…”

  Robert looked in the direction of her intrigue, standing to get a better view. “What? What's happening?”

  Her small form turned to face him. “It is none of your concern… human.” her voice was still small, but there was no small amount of rancor present.

  The words stung Robert, and he recoiled a bit.

  “I must go stop this…” She continued.

  “Wait.” Robert stood in front of her. Not as though it would have stopped a spirit in the first place, but it got his point across. “Tell me what’s happening. Maybe I can help.”

  She stared, eyelessly at him for several long moments. “A Rexunii village is being raided by Lokkadonian scouts… their main force is close behind, but there is still time… you can
do what you will… but I must save my people…”

  There was a chorus of distant shrieks that could now be heard over the valley. The sun was on its way down, but this would be a bad place to be either way. -It must have just started.- He thought to himself. Robert looked at his deformed hand again, clenching it in frustration. -God damn it… you lose your shit in Visgo when they almost kill innocent civilians, but you want to leave these people to die helplessly?- His mind raced at the terrible choices before him. “What kind of a man am I?” He said out loud, mostly to himself.

  “I hope… not a selfish coward…” Dio’Mar said, zipping toward the sound of screams and terror.

  ◆◆◆

  Robert wheezed as he raced behind the spirit, after his introduction to the spiritual energy in this world. He, along with his companions, had experienced great changes within their own bodies. One of these changes was a modest increase in strength, coordination, and overall endurance. Even with these advantages, Robert still found himself struggling to keep up. He could smell it now, scorched buildings and the stinging invasive stench of burning flesh. He had been running for twenty minutes or so, but couldn’t seem to see anything.

  “Stop!” Dio’Mar shouted.

  Robert skidded to a halt before a vertical drop, masked by waist-high grass that he had been running through. A hundred feet below him was a small village; probably home to a few hundred, burning and ravaged by large pillars of stone that jutted out at unnatural angles. There were dozens of bodies strewn about the winding roads, and still, there were moans and screams, many of them women by the sounds.

  Cursing himself, Robert leaped off the drop, using his Dunamis to glide him safely down to the chaotic mess. Black wind billowed around him, and Dio’Mar floated beside him, her thin, usually unmoving mouth, twisted in a clear grimace.

  He slowly worked his way across the mounds of death, working his way to where he heard the last gasps of life of this village, pleading and begging for mercy.

  Robert leaned against the edge of one of the stone dwellings that bordered the village center. Within, he saw a dozen crimson-clad warriors systematically killing the few remaining villagers. They shouted obscenities and taunted while they acted their bloody work, one by one, knowing they had all the time in the world.

  Further to the right of the killing, Robert’s heart sank at the sight of several younger Dae girls being ravaged by warriors. “These fucking bastards...” He said aloud. “I’ll kill them!”

  “No…” Dio’Mar said, putting her hand on his chest. As she spoke, her form began to grow again. “They would kill you… Robert… your powers are different, and could affect the course of a large battle… but even one of these warriors could kill you…”

  “What do we do then!? I can’t let them do this and just stand around doing nothing!” He shouted, causing several of the warriors to look in his direction.

  “You… have little faith… I am an ancient spirit of this world…” She turned from him and screamed, in a voice that was so dark and vile, it caused him to fall to the blood-soaked mud below, heaving violently.

  “Holy-- ack!-- fucking shit--” He hacked. Robert looked up through watering eyes to see a monster before him. Not the benign little form of his closest companion here, but a forty-foot monster, with black tentacles and spikes that seemed to split her skin in every surface of her gruesome body. She let out another shriek, and this time Robert did vomit from its sound. Her small mouth was now a deathly maw, filled with razor-sharp teeth, and black smoke seemed to seep from it.

  The Lokkadonian warriors stood, stunned and in terror. Some bent over, puking much like Robert had, but most had managed to stay on their feet.

  “You…” The vile voice of Dio’Mar bellowed. “Have come here… to commit these crimes… against the people of Rexun… now… you will find death…”

  Before Robert could regain his composure, he felt the heat of several blasts of flame slam into Dio’Mar’s monstrous form. She lunged forward at the warriors in the square, seemingly unphased by the attacks. The ground rumbled and screamed as large spikes of earth shot from the ground at her, bolts of lightning, blasts of fire, and blades of water all began bombarding her at once. She slid a large spike hand toward two warriors at near blinding speed, skewering one of them and smashing the other into a wall. The warrior stuck on her spike was a woman, who screamed in gruesome agony as she was flung into one of the burning structures around them.

  There were shouts of panic and surprise from the confused Lokkadonian warriors as Dio’Mar struck with blinding speed and accuracy. Robert’s vision was blurred from some power she was emitting, but still managed to gawk at the sheer power of the ancient spirit. She was horrifying in her appearance, and he knew deep down, that this was the closest thing he has seen to Dio’Mar’s true form.

  Heated air blasted him to his back as two of the warriors combined their powers to attack her. One used fire, creating a pillar that stretched into the air, and another used their Dunamis to form a gale of wind that fed and spilled the flames over to her. Despite their efforts, Dio’Mar seemed completely unfazed by the attacks that struck her, only turning her grotesque face to them, screaming another terrible gut-wrenching scream, and lunging to attack.

  Robert heaved again, dryly, dragging himself across the bloodied mud. -What the hell is this power?- he thought to himself. Getting up on his knees, he gasped for air, choking on the thick and smokey fumes that invaded his lungs.

  “To the side!” A Lokkadonian warrior shouted to his left, hugging the building for cover, but still attempting to command the battle. “Get your asses out of there!” He ducked as a massive spiked hand crashed through the stone structure he was hiding behind, cleaving the top of it off and crumbling its remains to the mud below. He grunted as he leaped to the side, dodging the rubble that fell heavily around him. The sight brought unbridled rage to Robert’s mind. These Lokkadonians had raped and murdered the poor people of this village, for no other reason than that they were of a different clan. There was a moment in his mind that froze with the sudden realization that this small event could represent the potential future of all Rexun. For Alektor and his court, for Turak, for Demessa…

  “Dio’Mar…” He croaked. The spirit paid no heed to his words, only continued her bloody work in dispatching the warriors, one by one. “Dio!” He yelled this time, still in vain.

  A Dae woman screamed as she was torn clear in half, spilling blood and flesh on her companions below. Dio’Mar roared again, splitting the night with her voice, and finally, Robert saw the uncertainty of the warriors set in. Their fight was one of unimaginable adversity, and though they had shown a level of skill and discipline at least on par with the Rexunii elite, Dio’Mar was too powerful. Her hideous form bent and writhed with each attack, causing a scream of agony and spraying blood. Soon, the apparent commander of the remaining warriors called for retreat. They all began to run from the fighting, using their various powers to leap or move quickly to the north of the village.

  Dio’Mar heaved herself upright and looked at the fleeing warriors growing smaller in the distance. She cocked her head as if amused at their feeble attempt to escape her wrath. A massive hand rose toward the backs of the Lokkadonians and a gigantic burst of black energy exploded from it, sending shockwaves throughout the village, and launching a glowing projectile toward the fleeing formation. It struck the center, and a blinding flash of light erupted, followed by an atrocious explosion.

  Robert stared in horror at the display of sheer destructive power the little spirit had made. He had only glimpsed her true face once, while in his trance-like state at the bottom of the pit, but it terrified him then; now… Robert wiped dripping sweat from his eyes and blinked at where Dio’Mar had been a moment before; she was gone. Robert began to look around the ruined village, seeing only rubble and corpses strewn about. -Where?- He thought to himself.

  “Here…” a small voice called from beside him.

  Rober
t spun toward her, startled at the close proximity of her form. “Dio.” He said, eyes unfocused. “What… what the hell was all that?” He clasped his hands together trying to keep them from shaking. “You killed all of them.”

  “Did they not deserve their fate?” She floated to a small clearing, and pointed to a group of twenty or so survivors from the village, all huddled together in a stone dwelling. Some were male, but the majority were female, many looking like they had been the victim of sexual abuses.

  “My God…” Robert said, his senses clearing a bit more. “How did they get here? The fighting was so intense.”

  Dio’Mar turned to him and buzzed with exhaustion. “I was able to guide them here with a portion of my consciousness… I am only dangerous to those who I wish to be, Robert… I would not bring such fury down on the perpetrators of these terrible crimes, and then kill those I wished to avenge…”