by Jake Stone
The guard holding his hand, a handsome young man with a well-trimmed goatee and sarcastic eyes, gives a derisive snort.
“Captain Atia is doing her best,” the beshai says in her defense. “What more can you ask of her?”
“To do the job she was assigned,” the handsome guard retorts.
Beshai Tulgas lets out a breath of frustration.
“My nephew, Eligor, is right,” the gaideck declares. “He’s only been captain of the palace guard for two months, and already we’ve seen a huge reduction in palace thievery.”
“That’s only because it was the palace guard who was stealing,” Atia points out.
Beshai Tulgas holds back a grin.
“How dare you?” Eligor asks, his hand falling to his sword. “Shall I remind this Purifier that she is on Palace grounds? This is my dominion.”
“How can I forget?” Atia says cooly. “With how pretty everything is.”
“Why, I should—”
“Please!” the beshai says as he moves between the two. “This is holy ground. We must put aside our differences and respect the corfew.”
It takes Eligor a few seconds to acquiesce to the beshai’s request. But as he does, he shoots Atia an acrid scowl.
“Beshai Tulgas is right,” the gaideck says. “The holy chamber is to illuminate our hearts with light and fill our minds with answers. Something that is greatly missing in the Frontier.”
“But the Purifiers are already stretched thin as it is,” the beshai points out. “With no new recruits and little help from the Republic, Atia and her soldiers can only do so much. Perhaps if we were to replenish their numbers, provide them with more resources…”
“Or sharpers swords,” Eligor says.
Atia scoffs. “The people of Dardekum suffer greatly as it is. Now, you wish to punish them even more?”
“Pain is not something we should run away from,” the gaideck says. “As it is written by the one; Only through suffering may we find our way to the light.”
“And as it is written as well,” the beshai adds with a raised finger, “we should help those before they fall into darkness.”
The Gaideck scowls. “Darkness…there is no more darkness than there are fairy tales. The demons were defeated exactly five-hundred years ago this week. My own ancestor, Eligor’s very blood, Ancil of Dalorum, fought alongside Queen Fireborn in the final battle against Zendall and his minions.
“All that’s left of them are those disgusting creatures hiding in the outer rim. But soon, they too shall be eradicated by our blessed warriors, the Battle Saints. And then, they’re existence will be nothing but a tale, no different than that of the slavers who once walked this planet.”
“A tale?” Atia says, her shield of discipline suddenly cracking. “How long will the Palace turn a blind eye to the crime and violence corrupting this planet? Every day we hear more stories of the killings and enslavements that have been on the rise. This is the work of demons.”
Eligor bursts out laughing, his palace guards joining in his amusement.
“It’s true,” Atia persists.
“Six months you’ve been on this quest,” Eligor says, “chasing rumors and hearsay of slavers and demons, and still you’ve found nothing.”
“That is where you’re wrong,” Atia says. “I now have the evidence to substantiate my claims.”
“Is this true?” the gaideck asks.
“It is,” Atia answers. She pulls Rachel’s lab coat from beneath her armor and holds it out for the beshai to inspect.
“What is that?” the gaideck asks.
“It’s a piece of clothing from a woman who was stolen just last night.”
“What woman?” Eligor demands.
Atia glances over her shoulder at me, and I feel the weight of the entire chamber as they wait for my answer. “Tell them, Xander of Earth.”
“Earth?” the gaideck echoes, his features twisting in confusion. “What is this…earth?”
“It’s uh…where I’m from,” I say, taking the initiative to step forward. My clothes are dirty, and my hair’s a mess. But I smooth down the front of my sweatshirt and raise my chin, doing my best to appear as dignified as I can.
Eligor recoils from my existence. He arches a brow, inspecting my disheveled appearance with disdain. He’s disgusted.
“Young man, how did you get here?” the beshai asks.
I open my mouth to speak, then stop as my gaze falls to my shoes. What do I say? How do I answer him? If I tell him the truth, he’ll think I’m crazy. “I don’t know,” is all I can come up with.
“What is this?” Eligor demands, motioning to me. “Some kind of trick? Some lie to embarrass his Holiness?”
“I’m no liar,” I say, holding his glare. “I’m telling you the truth. All I know is that my friend and I were transported here and now she’s gone.”
“You say that you were transported here?” the gaideck asks.
“It’s the only way I can explain it,” I say. “Somehow, someway, we were sent across the universe into this galaxy and put on this planet.”
“Itorim Sacrie,” the boy at the gaideck’s side whispers. He bows his head and draws the circle of the corfew, earning a look of disapproval from the gaideck.
“Leave,” the gaideck orders him, sending the boy to run out of the chamber into the street.
The palace guards exchange puzzled glances. The beshai checks with Atia; while, the gaideck’s brow furrows in uncertainty. They don’t believe me.
“Is this true?” the gaideck asks.
“There were witnesses,” Atia says.
“Who?” Eligor demands.
“The Sisterhood of Attrition,” Atia answers.
Eligor laughs. “Elandra?”
“The sisters have always proven themselves faithful to the corfew,” Atia says. “We should respect their words.”
“We should accept them for what they are,” Eligor says. “Religious zealots who’ve self-exiled themselves into lunacy.”
“Sister Elandra has done more good for the poor than you ever will,” Atia says.
He scoffs.
“Were there any other witnesses?” the gaideck asks.
Atia glances over at Zorel, who can only offer a disappointed shake of her head.
The gaideck sighs, relieved. My story is ridiculous to him. Yet, his counterpart, the beshai, grants me a sympathetic smile. “And where is this friend you speak of?”
“Rachel,” I say.
He encourages me with a nod.
“They took her.”
“Who?” Eligor asks.
“Skarteck,” Atia answers.
The name sends a chill through the room.
“You saw him?” the beshai asks me.
“If you’re talking about the tall guy in a leather duster with the metal mouth, then yeah, you could say that.”
The beshai gasps.
“Skarteck was killed years ago,” the gaideck declares stubbornly. “In the barren lands west of here. This cannot be true.”
“The fuck it ain’t,” I say, forgetting my place. I realize my mistake instantly and add. “Your Holiness.”
He glares at me through fiery eyes.
“If this is true,” Tulgas says. “We should notify the Republic immediately.”
“On what evidence?” Eligor asks. “The word of a vagrant?”
“He’s a witness,” Atia says.
Eligor snorts. “This is nothing but the delusions of a filthy commoner, a lunatic who should be whipped for his insolence. And I shall be the one to do it.”
I step back as Eligor marches toward me, his jaw clenching in anger.
Oh shit.
“Wait!” the gaideck calls out, freezing his nephew in place.
There is a moment of disquiet as everyone, including myself—especially myself—waits for him to continue.
“Sadly, I fear the young man believes his own words,” the gaideck says. “Which, in this case, a whipping would be useless.”
/> “But uncle?”
The gaideck stays his nephew with a raised hand. “Which is why we must use other options.”
The faces around me pale and I’m hit with a sense of unease that raises the hair on my neck.
“Brother Demetrius,” the beshai says. “Surely you don’t mean to—”
“Yes, brother,” the gaideck says. “If the young man persists with his lies, then we must make him see the truth of his error. Send him to Candatoria.”
“No,” Atia says, both she and Zorel turning around to look at me.
I flinch as I’m suddenly flanked by two palace guards. They shove me back, then spin me around, leading me away like a common criminal.
“What about Rachel?” I yell. “Please, I need to find her!”
“You will find your peace soon enough,” the gaideck replies.
I struggle against the guards as they yank me forward, trying to free myself from their grip, but the men are bigger and stronger. And soon, I’m being dragged toward the exit.
Behind me, I hear Atia as she pleads for my fate.
“Please, your holiness,” she says. “If he’s to be taken to the confessional, then let us escort him. He’s our witness, and therefore, our responsibility. Surely, you will not deny us this request.”
“Hold!” the gaideck calls out.
The guards bring me to a halt as they look back, granting me a couple of seconds of reprieve.
The gaideck ponders this for a moment, irritated by the request. Then, after a brief frown, nods his consent. “Very well. I will allow this. But know this; his fate will not change.”
“Thank you, your Holiness,” Atia says with a bow.
The palace guards stand aside as she and Zorel replace them. It’s a begrudging moment, one filled with slow reluctance. But the change is made, and I’m suddenly flanked by the two Purifiers once again.
“Where are you taking me?” I ask.
“To confess your sins,” Atia replies.
Chapter Five
They lead me back into the street, where a crowd has formed at the entrance of the church.
People begin falling to their knees, clutching corfews against their chests, some weeping, others gawping at me with their hands steepled in prayer. Word has gotten out. The young boy who the gaideck had ordered to leave the church stares at me from the corner of the crowd, his face a mask of awe.
“Stay close,” Zorel whispers.
Atia takes the lead. She cuts through the crowd effortlessly, slicing a wedge through the throng of men and women reaching out to touch me. They caress my clothes, touch my skin, gasping with rolled-back-eyes as some begin to faint. It’s a strange sight, one that starts to frighten me.
I pull my arms away, casting them stares. But they continue, pleading with me to help them. I hear of children starving in the streets, of people dying. One young woman with alluring eyes and full lips clasps my hand and presses it against her breasts, begging me to bless her. All I can do is tell her, “I’m sorry, but I can’t.”
“Come,” Atia orders, yanking the woman’s hand from mine. “There’s no time for this.”
“It’s not my fault,” I say. “They’re grabbing me!”
“Then we must extract you as soon as possible.”
It takes us a few minutes to break through the crowd. But as we do, I spot the boy again standing at the end of the street announcing to anyone who’ll listen that the Light Bringer has come. One by one, they turn in my direction.
“By the heavens,” Atia seethes. She snatches what looks to be a turban from one of the men standing near us and tosses it at me, motioning for me to put it on. “Send them a message, Zorel.”
“With pleasure, Captain.”
The Purifier brushes past me as she takes her place in the middle of the street. With spread arms, she summons a ball of electricity that crackles like a roaring fire between her hands. The crowd backs away in fear, their faces bathed in the threatening blue light.
“People of Delorum,” Atia announces, her voice full of authority. “By order of Gaideck Demetrius, head of our church, and guide of our light, I order you to clear the way, or face the consequences.”
A path quickly opens as men and women shuffle back, frightened by Zorel’s power. When the path is cleared, we set off once more.
The boy continues watching me as I pass by him and I see the worry on his face. What is he so scared of?
We head down the street, past the avenue of prostitutes and into a part of the capital that I haven’t seen before.
Beautiful buildings made of stone and topped with red spires rise to the sides of me, while the noisy chatter of tiny storefronts and crazy people dies down behind us.
This is the rich part of the capital, I realize, noting the distinguished men and women dressed in fine silks walking past us. They gawk at me in curiosity, wondering who I am to warrant such an escort by two Purifiers.
Above, people are watching us from their balconies. Most are female, but there are some men. I hear the laughter of a young woman, followed by the angry voice of an old nursemaid. The two quickly set off in a game of run and catch as she ushers the young maiden from the window. News of me has traveled fast, apparently.
“In here,” Atia says.
She leads us into a striking tower that is nearly a hundred yards high. Inside, we’re met by palace guards dressed in the same red and gold plating as Eligor and his men.
“What’s this?” the lead guard asks. He glances over Atia’s shoulder at me, his features hard as he examines my dirty clothes and messed up hair. “Is this the so-called…”
“We’ve been ordered to escort him to the confessional,” Atia interrupts.
The guard nods his ascent and turns around, leading us toward a set of golden doors situated behind him. He raises a hand, a red sensor flashing at his wrist, and the doors slide open to an empty elevator.
This is such a strange place. Everywhere I look, I see ancient buildings surrounded by endless desert and people in rags. Yet, every once in a while, I’ll see a flash of technology that rivals that of earth’s. How can this be? It’s as if technology is a memory here.
Once inside, I’m quickly squished in the center by Atia, Zorel and the palace guard who decide to accompany us. Zorel catches me staring at her tits, and her lips twist into a smirk.
I feel the jerk of the elevator as it begins to move. We’re descending, I realize, traveling deep into the guts the of the building, and I suddenly remember something Rachel told me once, “Only bad things happen in low places.”
As the elevator continues with its descent, I begin to wonder what Rachel would think about all this Light Bringer crap. She’d probably tell me I was being a jerk, and that I should embrace all of the attention. But then again, she’s not the one being escorted by guards to confess her sins.
When we reach the bottom level, the doors slide apart, and I see an open level that looks like the inside of a warehouse. It’s empty, and I can see burning torches hanging along the walls. My quickest impression is that we’re in a dungeon, or at least, the beginning of one.
“Move,” the guard orders me with a shove.
The torches guide our way as we venture deeper into the shadows. I have no idea where I am, or where they’re taking me. All I know is that I’m scared.
We walk for what seems like minutes until we come to a narrow corridor. It coils downward like a snake, leading us forever, deeper and deeper into the ground, where the air becomes stifling warmer.
I want to whisper to Zorel, to ask her where they’re taking me, but the corridor is so cramped, that I can actually hear the guards breathing around me. I guess I should wait.
My legs are thankful when we reach the bottom of the stairs, but my nervousness is ratcheted when I see a beautiful woman in a black leather dress with raven hair and white skin sitting on a golden throne. She grins as she sees us.
“Well, well, well…if it isn’t Captain Atia Valora,” she says in
amusement. “I never thought I’d ever see you down here. I guess dreams really do come true. Tell me, has the beshai finally come to his senses about you?”
“I’m not here to parlay words with you, Candatoria,” Atia replies evenly. “We’re here on behalf of Gaideck Demetrius.”
“Ah.” Her eyes turn to me. “I see. Very well, let the prisoner pass then.”
The guard shoves me forward and I nearly fall from the force.
Candatoria watches me from her seat, her eyes drawing to slits as she begins to study me. “What is your name, young man?”
The woman is absolutely gorgeous. In her mid-thirties, but a total milf. I take in her beauty like a sweet scent, appreciating the voluptuousness of her body through her tight black dress. With high cheekbones, straight black hair and dark eyes, she’s like the sexiest witch I’ve ever seen.
“Xander,” I say.
Her face tightens. “Xander? I’ve never heard of such a name.”
“I’m not from here.”
“Really? And where exactly are you from?”
“Earth,” I say, adding before she can ask. “It’s a planet.”
She laughs. “Oh, I see. So this is what the gaideck wants of me—to see if you’re crazy or not.”
“I can tell you right now, I’m not crazy.”
“Silence!” Her voice is a whip.
“Okay.”
Her head cocks to the side as she rests a hand on my face, her fingers tightening on my jaw as she rudely turns it to the side. From there, her hand slides down to my neck, where I begin to feel the tips of her nails scratching tenderly against my skin. Her eyes glow menacingly as she watches for my reaction. I give her none.
The guard who shoved me whispers something into her ear. I can’t hear what they’re saying, but whatever it is, it awakens the woman’s curiosity. She looks at me, waves the guard away, and pauses.
“Wait outside,” she orders everyone in her chamber, her eyes never veering from mine.
Behind me, I can sense Atia’s reluctance. Candatoria is not her lord, and as such, she holds no allegiance to her. Instead, she waits.
“Beshai Tulgas wants him alive,” Atia says.
“The beshai requests much.”
“This is not a request.”