Keys of Candor: Trilogy

by Casey Eanes

  Cyric pointed, his face gone ghost white in the dim. “Aye, and there lies Dyrn. Gods above, how?” The body of a man combined with a machine lay next to Abtren, not much more than a skeleton wrapped in fraying skin. What was organic crumbled under the light, while the pred tech that girded the body remained pristine.

  “Seam has grown very powerful, more than I thought was possible.” Kull looked away from the fallen and motioned for Cyric to follow him. “We have to find him.”

  Cyric nodded, but was unable to tear away from the hollowed stare of Dyrn’s corpse. “Sure, sounds reasonable.” His hand fumbled for a cigarette, which he lit against the burning orb hovering over his gloved hand.

  Kull walked across the catwalk, unwilling to hide himself in the darkness. He called, boldly, “Seam! Come out. We don’t have much time!”

  At the end of the catwalk, the dim light revealed Seam at last, as if he had been waiting for them there all along. Leaning against the wall, his dark brown hair billowed around his gaunt, pale face. The red light from Cyric’s orb reflected back to them in the form blood-red eyes.

  “Kinsmen Shepherd. How good of you to drop in to check on me. It has been a long while since we last spoke, though, one could only wish for a better spot to meet than this cursed place.”

  Kull held out Wael’s staff, placing it before him like a totem of power. “Seam. I am glad that I found you.”

  Cyric stood behind Kull holding out the pred tech orb, his stance ready for action. He whispered, “He makes a wrong move, and I’ll run him through, Kull.”

  Seam laughed in the darkness. “I see you’ve upgraded from the dog, Shepherd, though I doubt your merc is more loyal. Pity about what happened to the Mastermonk, isn’t it? I’ve heard he met an untimely end. Didn’t you have something to do with that?”

  Kull made no reply, his face remaining stoic as Seam smiled broadly in the darkness.

  “Ah, well, I see I’m not going to get that same raw, unbridled emotion that I encountered in the Spire, oh so long ago. You were quite the little killer back then, Shepherd. Nearly took me out, even as I held the Keys. An amazing feat...but no...” Seam’s eyes danced in the twilight of Cyric’s fiery orb. “You’ve changed. We’ve both changed, haven’t we?”

  Seam held out his arm, which morphed into a serrated blade and then back into a hand. “I’ve had my own trials and tribulations to mark me, Shepherd, but I’ve overcome them. What has marked you, I wonder? Was it the death of Wael? Or the fact that you slaughtered your own father when you came back to Candor?” Seam laughed madly, his eyes like two hot embers. “Had you known the price of coming back, would you’ve done it again? Tell me. We’re friends here, aren’t we?”

  Kull let the words of his enemy fade into the darkness, staring at the glowing red eyes without a response. Finally, he spoke, “Seam, I’m not here for any of this. We don’t have time. What was done in the past is over. Isphet is set to move on Vale tomorrow, and if he crushes Vale, all of Candor is lost.”

  Seam stood to his feet, incensed. “And what is Vale to me, Shepherd? What is Lotte? A petty kingdom from a past too far gone. I know what they call me there. My ears hear many things…the jackal king.” Seam shook his head and smiled cruelly. “No, I would rather see Lotte burn to the ground, along with all of its people. I will honor their name for me and pick their bones after Isphet destroys them all.”

  Kull stared at Seam, unblinking. “You know that you cannot share the same world where Isphet dwells bearing the Keys. He will hunt you down in the end and consume you, just as you have consumed Abtren and Dyrn. If Isphet bears the Keys he will not rest until he consumes all of the Serubs. It will not end well for you, Seam. You know this. You must take your stand and fight with us now.”

  “You are mad or desperate, Shepherd. I can run and hide and live for another day. I can do this now and for another millennia. My dark master is dead, and I am finally free, able to embrace the power beyond what is natural for any man alive. My path is set, and there is nothing you can offer me that can change my mind. Now leave me before I kill you.”

  Kull stood his ground and handed Wael’s staff to Cyric. He reached beneath his white robes and pulled out the rune of Aleph. There, next to it, hung the Key of Aleph, its white light glowing like lightning. Cyric’s mouth hung open dumbly as Kull unstrung the Key and held it in his palm.

  “Seam...I have come to offer you this.”

  Seam’s eyes went wide and his mouth opened, but no sound passed between his lips.

  Kull continued, “This is the Key of Aleph, given to me by him who is above all others. I give it to you freely, only asking that you aid us in the fight that is coming.”

  Cyric hit Kull with Wael’s staff. “Are you insane!?”

  Kull snapped back, his voice booming with power, “It is mine. It was given to me. I give it freely of my own will and to anyone I please.”

  The Warren thundered under the power that came from Kull’s voice.

  Seam’s body vibrated with longing, like an addict itching for a new fix. “What do you want me to do? What is it that I must do to have it?”

  Kull took a step forward. “You must fight alongside us, Seam. You must fight in this last battle, and you must destroy Isphet and give me the Keys of Candor. Do this and you can redeem yourself.”

  Seam stared into Kull’s face, illuminated by the white glow of Aleph’s Key. He smiled, his face twisted with unhidden glee. “I will do as you say, Shepherd.” He held out his hand to Kull. “Give it to me now.”

  Kull placed the white Key in Seam’s palm and spoke, “Stay with me until the end.”

  “As you wish, Shepherd.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  Incoming! Thousands of hostiles! Checkpoint Delta Eleven compromised. Willyn’s datalink flashed and let out a shrill warning alert as the text crawled over the screen and loud sirens blasted to life overhead. The command center was jolted like a live wire had fallen into the middle of the packed room. Willyn’s lieutenants and captains grabbed their rifles and immediately sent coms to their units while Rander huddled with the Lottian commanders, waving his hand over a topographical map of the Lottian landscape outside Vale. They marched all the troops toward the mountain city, and set up camp outside its walls. Soon it would all be a battlefield.

  Willyn pulled Adley from Rander’s huddle and drew her close, speaking beneath the rumbling of the room. “Where are they?”

  Adley shook her head and stiffened her back as she answered, readying herself for the response. “Riht. Past Rhuddenhall on the border…following Kull’s direction…his vision.”

  Willyn clenched both fists and gritted her teeth, “We need them and now they are chasing after that jackal, hoping to grovel and beg for his help? All the way to Riht?”

  Willyn checked a nearby screen, scanning for a visual confirmation of the incoming shambling horde before turning back to Adley. “Did they leave the weapons?”

  Adley nodded and gestured to the door. “Cyric took a few pieces with them, but we have everything else.”

  Willyn let out a sigh, “Good.” She shook her head and ran her hand through her hair. “At least we have that for us. We have an hour tops before they make it here, probably less. Get them ready.”

  “Already on it,” answered Adley as she offered a salute and ran from the room, calling into the datalink on her wrist for her engineers to meet her near the pred tech cache.

  Willyn leaned into Rander’s huddle and listened as Rander finished agreeing on Lottian support positions for the rook units that would lead the offensive charge. She nodded in agreement and glanced across the table at the lone Elumite general.

  “General Poulox, how quickly can you scramble your remaining jets?”

  The general answered without hesitation, barely stopping to glance over logistics on his datalink screen. “We are an hour and a half out, fifty-two units armed and ready. Fifteen still in the mechanic’s bay and won’t be ready.”

  “Any
drop ships for your infantry?” Willyn asked as she turned a holographic projection of the valley outside of Vale that hovered over the datalink on her wrist. “We need anything we can get.”

  General Poulox leaned over his datalink screen and scanned his manifest. He smirked and nodded. “Yes. We are lucky they were all stationed outside the impact area. We have all fifteen airships. Ten fixed wing and five rotary.” He scanned the manifest and flipped through a few summary sheets as he continued. “Ummm, looks like we can drop in just over eleven hundred men. Seven hundred twenty on post with the assets and another five hundred are fifty clicks out.”

  Willyn called out to the spotters over Delta Eleven’s signal but got no response. The com line let out a repeating beep, announcing the failed call. “We don’t have an hour and a half, General, but we need everything we can get. Scramble the seven hundred twenty men immediately and bring in the rest as closely as we can. If we can hold long enough maybe they can turn the tide. Tell them to push it!”

  General Poulox threw up a quick salute and nodded. “Calling in all units right now. I will have them all patch into your line so they know what they’re flying into.”

  Seam could feel an explosive new energy reverberating through his entire being. His bones quaked with a seemingly unending torrent that brought a rush unlike anything he had felt before. As soon as he took possession of Aleph’s Key, he could feel its unmatched power pulse through him, inviting him to new heights of unknown potential. Seam drew in a deep breath and pulled his eyes shut as he reveled in the feeling of it; raw and untamed.

  “Why?” Seam’s eyes snapped open, locking onto Kull as he bolted upright. “Why don’t you keep the Key? I saw you confront Isphet after your return. Why give it to me? What is your plan...Shepherd?”

  The way Seam said his last name made Kull’s skin crawl as his tone took on the same cadence and feel as when he held the five Keys of Candor. Like a drunk with his drink. Kull shook his head and sighed. “I’m convinced that this is Aleph’s will, Seam. I have been…” he searched for the right word, “instructed to trust you. So that is what I will do.”

  “Ha.” Seam smirked and his lips curled into a devious smile. “Well, I guess we have no choice then, do we, Kull? After all, if Aleph wants this...” He playfully dangled the Key in his hand.

  “Easy,” Cyric grunted as the glow emanating from his glove intensified. “Don’t make us rethink this arrangement.” Cyric glanced at Kull. “We got what we came for…we need to move.”

  Ewing peered through his binoculars at the southern hills, waiting for first visual contact as Rot panted by his side, his hackles raised as he kept his one good eye locked on the same horizon.

  “Well, you stinkin’ mutt, looks like this might be it for us two old souls.” He looked down at Rot and offered a wink. “At least we get to go down fighting.”

  Rot barked back, somehow acknowledging Ewing all while keeping his eye out toward the coming conflict. It was not long before Rot began to bark and growl while scratching his two front paws against the ground. Ewing flipped his binoculars back up and dialed them in, only to confirm Rot’s announcement. Ewing’s heart sank as he scanned the horizon from east to west as small black dots crested over the hill. At first it appeared there was one long line stretching the horizon for nearly five hundred meters, but as the first set of bodies piled over the hill they were replaced by another wave, then another and another.

  Ewing dropped his binoculars to his chest as the hillside shifted from a dark green to black and gray as bodies covered the hillside.

  “Aleph help us all,” Ewing mumbled as he shuffled for the nearby jeep where he pulled a pistol from the glove compartment and checked to make sure it had a round loaded and ready. Ewing stuck the pistol in a shoulder sling holster and scrambled to the rear of the jeep where he pulled out a bolt action, carbine rifle. He slammed a clip into it and racked the bolt. He took a deep breath and let out a loud whistle as he climbed into the jeep’s driver seat. “Come on, boy. This is it. Let’s get after it.”

  Isphet walked triumphantly through the borders of Lotte toward Vale at the vanguard of the first wave of one hundred and fifty thousand shambling dead. He had called them from the four corners of Candor, and they had heard their master’s call. Newly controlled soldiers from Elum equipped with body armor and weapons walked side by side with animated, rotting cadavers that had emerged from the dark corners of forgotten hives, long since desecrated and abandoned by civilization. They came in thousands, hearing the unspoken song sung by Nyx, Isphet’s last remaining ally from the other Serubs. Even now, Isphet could feel the faint ripples of the others who did not join him, their energy continuing to broadcast across the higher planes.

  Luken. The thought of him made Isphet grin with glee. Flee, brother, for a time. Hide away for another day, deep in your cave. The Master will find you soon enough. Lotte’s destruction will seed Candor’s ground with enough blood to complete the circle of sacrifice. From death comes life. Very soon, the Master will come and I will enjoy bringing you to him in the end.

  Isphet stared out over the shambling horde and smiled, his horrible crimson eyes glazing over with tears. Yes, soon enough chaos and death would be unleashed over this miserable island world, and the Master would come with his glory. He would do what he did to this and other worlds. He would annihilate it and fill his Sea. His beautiful Sea of Souls.

  I will stand next to him, at his right hand, he thought, his mind swelling with images of glory. I will bring him Candor, the first world of many, and then I will join him. The Master and I will find other worlds, other life, and we will crush them all into dust and ash, and the Sea will be filled.

  The dead rushed by him as Isphet stood staring out over the great, open plains of Lotte. In the distance, up the Asban mountains, the gates of the great city of Vale stood over them, the last great bastion of man. Defiantly, the fires of the city burned brightly in the crisp morning before dawn.

  Isphet breathed in the cool air and smiled as snow began to fall.

  Willyn stared out over the great wall of Vale, her face set like steel. So, this is what you bring, Isphet, you worm? The great plain of Lotte was filled with thousands of morels, their stench uncannily foul as the wind turned. The Grogan and Red commanders stood beside her, their faces thin and stretched with fear. Willyn read their mood in an instant and turned toward them. She threw out her hand and placed it on Rander’s shoulder.

  “We go down fighting, Grogans. We keep fighting down to the very last man. No one runs, no one flees. We stare death in the face today, and we laugh.”

  The generals nodded, and Willyn could see the spark ignite in her kinsmen’s eyes. They spoke the phrase she had learned since a child, grim and dreadful, yet the words brought comfort now.

  “To die a good death is great, my friends. All for all. For the Groganlands!”

  The men cheered, and with them the entire ranks of the Grogans screamed, filling the cold air with the bloodcurdling scream of Rodnim’s race.

  Willyn stood and nodded at Rander, who busily barked orders to the six thousand soldiers in their company. “The company is completely positioned, my Sar. We stand ready to die for you.”

  Willyn nodded, her breath clouding over. “Stand ready to live for me, Rander. You and every soldier we have.” She flung up her wrist and dialed the datalink com. Kull’s coordinates flashed on the screen, and Willyn cursed. She spoke into the device, her voice muted but laced with fury.

  “Kull, the coms are reading that you are still in Riht. Aleph above, where are you? We’ve got a hundred thousand morels marching in on us, and you’ve taken the damn merc. It’s not enough that we have the pred tech assembled, but how in Aleph’s name do you think we can use it without Cyric?!”

  Kull smiled, wincing under the hot-headed fury of Willyn. He quickly tied down the weapons and supplies he and Cyric had gathered from the Warren. Cyric stood next to him, sweat brimming from his brow.

  He barked
at Kull, lighting up a cigarette nervously, “Tell the mighty Sar not to worry. I didn’t leave her empty-handed. Adley knows enough to be dangerous with the tech, and she’s better at assembling it than I’ve ever been.”

  Kull held the datalink up his mouth and spoke, “Cyric says that Adley has you covered, Willyn.”

  Another furious explosion roared from the small datalink speaker. “I need answers from him, Kull! Put him on the line!”

  Kull unhooked his datalink and handed it to Cyric with a tight, knowing smile.

  “Enjoy.”

  Cyric strapped the link on and spoke in rapid bursts into the coms. “What is it? We are a hundred thirty-five clicks away. We can make it back to you…”

  “Is the tech geared for total war, Cyric?” Willyn growled, her voice nearly blowing out the small speaker.

  Cyric flicked his half-burned cigarette out onto the desert floor. “What?”

  “You heard me, Cyric. Total war. When we have nothing left to lose.”

  “They can be configured that way, but you have to understand that there is…”

  Willyn shot back, “No coming back from that, yes I understand it. Just answer the question.”

  “Yes.” Cyric nodded as he spoke into the datalink on his arm. “Tell Adley to let the dog off the chain. All the tech is ready to be fully lethal, but—”

  “Done,” Willyn interrupted and the datalink went dark as she cut the feed.

  “...but it could take out the user.” Cyric finished his warning, speaking into thin air.

  “Total war, Adley. No questions. Dial up every piece of pred tech and get ready for a full assault. We don’t have the luxury of restraint. Isphet won’t hold back his fury, and I don’t intend to restrain mine either.”

  “Willyn. We haven’t tested—” Adley called back over the datalink.