The Keeper's Codex: Ashen Memories

by A. D. Wills

  “Of course, you're the one who poisoned Phirilis with drops of the Abyss. And now, Wonoda and the pixies are here in Ethril once again, unprotected, and with her dear friend Zaes withering away to nothing as we speak. Really, you would think this is all too easy. Every little thing having gone right, and they have no idea who any of us are.”

  “Not gonna lie though Boroku, it kinda seems like a lot of steps to get a book though...” Schiffer expressed skepticism.

  “The Keeper's Codex is much more than a book, and I know that you know that too. Otherwise, you wouldn't be here, Schiffer,” Boroku corrected—the lone time he seemed remotely serious during their visit. “But these are all necessary steps. The Codex won't be of any use if the same Divine rot is plaguing Gamriss. What good is putting another coat of paint on this fake world they've admittedly done such a good job of building?”

  “I don't care about any of that. You promised it'd be way more fun than it actually was! I hate going to the abyss, and I didn't get to kill any of those Pixies, even when they were right there...ripe for the picking,” Schiffer licked his lips Yuliana's way.

  “Gross...” she held her hand up to block Schiffer's creepy gaze. “You do hear yourself when you speak, don't you?”

  “Least I don't take pleasure in sucking the life out of others to look so young,” Schiffer said as he flicked his perfect hair in front of Yuliana.

  “No, but I've seen you do much worse,” Yuliana looked scornfully at Schiffer.

  “I suppose we all have our vices...” Boroku tempered the tension. "For now, what matters is we've distracted everyone, thanks in no small part to Yuli masterfully recruiting the disgruntled rebels together with the ogres. Faella is in disarray as well, and none of them have any idea what's to come.”

  “Alright, so what's to come? Now what?" Schiffer continued pushing the meeting along, tapping his feet, anxious to leave.

  “In the meantime, I will continue my search for the Codex. Unfortunately, those two who hid it have proven to be annoyingly effective in the placement. Even in death, they continue to frustrate me...” Boroku trailed off staring into space for a fleeting moment. “But I digress. While the rest of the world tears itself apart for us, we will continue to upend the ones who planted their seedy corrupting roots.”

  “Just get to the part where you give me something exciting to do this time."

  “Oh, I promise I have something even you will find rather tantalizing, Schiffer,” Boroku teased. “How would you like to finally get your hungry hands on some Divines?”

  Schiffer smirked. “How many do I get to kill?”

  “Oh, you will have plenty enough to fill that twisted little heart of yours, my friend.” Boroku held his arms up, shrugging with a detached lightened face.

  “I'm in.” Schiffer leaned on his hand, his attention recaptured.

  “Good, because our next step is you drawing out our precious Divine Lord Judocus,” Boroku tapped the black table, and its surface shifted into displaying an image of a village.

  This wasn't any ordinary run down village. It was surrounded by thick polished stone walls sparkling in the sunlight, and each home looked to be encased in solid gold, right down to the very foundation. The silver streets glistened, as if they had been freshly polished. Everything in sight looked utterly foreign and rare, like nothing else in Gamriss with its excessively luxurious amenities.

  “I've never seen this place before...” Yuliana looked on with equal parts disgust, and amazement.

  “This is a hidden compound of the Judocus family line, somewhere in between the Lost Lands, and Ethril. One of the forbidden places the Divines told their puppet rulers to block off from everyone like good little pets.”

  Boroku dragged his hand over the table to give them all a closer look, as if to move an unseen eye in a veiled tour. On display, they all saw posh dressed villagers—noses stuck up in the air, and nearly all of them had a slave on a short leash crawling behind them exhausted and starved. They yanked at their malnourished bodies of the barely clothed slaves, using them as their personal pets to use as they see fit. To any outsider, it looked like nothing more than a twisted lavish playground for the obscenely wealthy to do whatever they pleased.

  “...And this is what the world allows, looking the other way for these monsters,” Yuliana looked down in loathing.

  “Schiffer, I want you to slaughter every last one of these villagers. I don't want you to so much as leave a single one of their families alive to send a message. Their corpses lining their gold trimmed streets will be plenty indication enough.”

  “You said this was going to be interesting though.” Schiffer looked back down at the image of the village. “That's gonna take no time at all killing all those bastards. And they also look like the running type, so what's the point?”

  “It's about sending a message that we're coming for Judocus. I want to lure him out, and see what he does next after he finds out what you did. And I'm sure if you cause enough of a scene, Judocus will send one of his lieutenants, or perhaps even a Knight,” Boroku enticed Schiffer. “If you still somehow find yourself unsatisfied, then you and I can spar in our next meeting, how about that?”

  “Alright, you've got a deal then!” Schiffer donned an excited grin ear to ear at the prospect of a good fight.

  “Now, Yuli, I have something that only you can do,” Boroku asked with a loving gaze.

  “Anything you wish, you know that,” Yuliana replied with bright eyes.

  “Gross...” Schiffer rolled his eyes, dreading every second he had to endure when Boroku and Yuliana got even the slightest bit romantic around him.

  Boroku tapped on the table once again, and the image of the village sputtered out, washing into a new scene on an ocean of perfectly still white water. In the distance, a volcano could be seen sticking out from the water, black and charred from a previous eruption.

  “The White Sea Prison?” Yuliana asked.

  Sitting in the middle of the white sea—barely big enough to be deemed an ocean, the white sea prison was infamous for never allowing anyone out, and its extreme vetting measures for any visitors or workers there. It's a place of horrors, housing only the most deplorable of criminals in all of Gamriss, and one full of treacherous traps, gates, and other creative torturous obstacles in place. Even if someone managed to get through that, the toxic waters outside would bubble and boil their body from the inside out. No one knows the substance of the water, but only a few seconds of being in contact with it is enough to be fatal to even the strongest of spirits.

  “I need your expertise as a mage to sneak in undetected, and speak to someone. Neither Schiffer or I can do this, even if I were to shapeshift, I wouldn't be able to get past its defenses. It's one of the most impenetrable places in Gamriss, but thankfully, I know someone as skilled as yourself.”

  “I could probably do it if I wanted to.” Schiffer crossed his arms in bitter mumbling that went ignored.

  “Getting passage is tricky enough, so you will need to find a way aboard without giving rise to any suspicion. But the real challenge is once you get inside, you're to go to the deepest level of the prison with the highest level of security. To be honest, I can't tell you how to go about doing it. I wish I could, but all I know is the location of our target, Jonatan, one of the Starborn. Well, formerly I should say, I suppose at this point.”

  “So that's where he's been,” Yuliana seemed just as curious now.

  “Once you find him, I want you to tell him Dreymond is dead,” Boroku said, without any other details Yuli waited for him to add in.

  “Is that all?” She asked.

  “I want to see how he reacts to the news. I'm sure he won't show anything to you, but he is a piece I would very much like to have active on the proverbial board we find ourselves playing with.”

  “Then consider it done.”

  “So, what're you gonna do then? Don't you dare go and say you're gonna go off to fight in that battle, and take all the fun
parts for yourself again,” Schiffer accused Boroku.

  “Oh, I couldn't care less who wins this battle. There's no need for me to participate in a mere distraction. Well, I suppose that's not entirely fair either. While a distraction, I do welcome the useful damages done between 'allies.' But don't you worry Schiffer. I'm going on a simple visit to see a couple of old acquaintances in Stonehill. Nothing too exciting, I assure you. After all, I need to take it easy for a little while, which is why I'm relying so heavily on the two of you this time around.”

  “Whatever, as long as you're not sneaking anything in behind my back.” Schiffer kicked his chair out from the table to get up. “So we done here, or what?”

  “Technically yes...” Boroku conceded behind a sigh.

  “Alright, I'm outta here then. Don't summon me, or talk to me unless you've got something worth my time, got it, Boroku?” Schiffer asked walking away.

  “Oh, I wouldn't dare dream of it,” Boroku snidely put his hands in the air in dramatic fashion.

  With that, Schiffer exited down through the door, and out of sight—on his way to the hidden village of Lord Divine Judocus' family.

  “I would have preferred a longer visit, but I suppose that wasn't ever going to happen.” Boroku slumped into his chair, as if to let his guard down once Schiffer left.

  “But now we do have some time alone together, something of a rarity of late,” Yuliana smiled over.

  “Far too rare,” Boroku agreed. “But soon they'll be a constant. Soon we'll be done with our parts, and can live with everyone else in peace. Soon everything will be renewed, once I find the Codex.”

  Yuliana looked at Boroku with a longing look of concern. She could see him still trying to hold back showing any fatigue. It was obvious for her, feeling his will draining by the second—fluttering and fluctuation.

  “Please, promise me you really will take it easy for now. We're doing fine, and as much as I hate to admit it, both Schiffer and I will be fine too. Remember, you're not alone. I'm always here for you to lean on, Boroku.”

  “And I you,” Boroku nodded behind a heavy breath. “But I promise, I won't be doing anything too extensive. At least no shifting for the next little while. I can only use this relic so many times before it puts such a strain on me.” Boroku placed a small ancient tablet the size of a small card on the table.

  “I know you're not going to keep true to those words, but that will have to do.” Yuliana got up from her chair, walked over to Boroku, and clutched his face with both her hands to kiss him.

  Yuliana didn't let go, holding Boroku close, stealing every last second she could before parting with him once again for however long it might be this time around.

  Boroku ran Yuliana's lush black hair between his fingers when she let go, leaving him in a daze. “Know that I love you more than anything this world has to offer me. Hundreds of years, seeing all there is to see, and none of it could ever hope to compare to you. You are my treasure, and I owe you everything for finding me.”

  Yuliana had no words, and turned around to walk out. “You know I will always love you. You saved me too Boroku, it's that simple. So I'm going to make sure I do everything I can to fulfill our shared dream.”

  “I know you will,” Boroku said, and watched Yuliana take her leave through the black door, leaving him all alone now.

  Without Schiffer and Yuliana, everything felt eerily quiet. Nothing other than his own loud breathing in the circular stone room to accompany him now.

  “I know that you will reveal yourself soon. That seal those two ingrates put on you won't hold up much longer.”

  Chapter 28: Calaera

  Mere moments before the sun would rise, Calaera had everything set. Lorin led everyone to safety in the catacombs of the city, while her new four commanders took to their posts. The citizens armed as well as Lyndenwell's old unused armory could provide. Dusty weapons, some even being dulled, and some worn armor that looked like it hadn't been touched since the war. The archers above with Sahar weren't better off either. Without enough bows, some were left with pikes, helpless until within treacherous close range of the Dracus.

  The tension settled in all morning, ever since everyone gathered. No one knew when the attack might happen. For all they knew, it might not even be today, or it could be a moment away. No one cheered either—no one made a sound other than their hands grinding the hilts of their weapons in distress. The entire city silent, as a cool wind blows through on a perfectly sunny day. If no one knew any better, it seemed like a perfect Summer's day.

  “Incoming!” Sahar shouted out, echoing throughout the walls, and down into the city upon spotting the approaching army over the nearby rolling hills.

  Everyone down below stared at the gate with hollow deadened eyes. Feeling the low approaching rumbling. Hearing the oncoming beating of rocs wings. It's for real now, and it only just now hit them.

  “Ready the crossbolts,” Sahar ordered those operating the ballistae, one on each corner of the walls to fire above at the Dracus. “Take aim and fire when you have a shot, do not hesitate for a second. I promise you they will take every chance granted to them, so you best take yours! Remember what I told you before, when you see the claws of their rocs widen and pop, that's when you know they will be making their move.”

  The Ogres and Rebels charged the gates, smashing against it, but it held strong. But the walls wouldn't hold the Dracus.

  Led by Eszu and Ralak in tow, the Dracus soared over the thick walls, and rained down a barrage of spears. Behind their blotting wall of spears, one after another, the Dracus swooped in—plucking up soldiers along the walls to fly up and drop them down to a bone crunching splatter in front of everyone standing in horror.

  “Do not pause! Don't let their deaths be in vain!” Sahar bellowed out in snapping his nearly petrified troops into action.

  The archers frantically gathered themselves, and shot off an array of uncoordinated volleys of arrows. Some managed to stick some of the rocs in the side out of sheer dumb luck, while the ballistae fired off into the crowd of rocs, but the massive crossbolts were easily evaded for the most part. Compared to what the Dracus were doing to them, it was nothing. They didn't relent though, and Sahar urged them on, firing away blanketing arrows into the skies in a nonstop, layered onslaught.

  “Let them fire away, they know that we own the skies. They're only buying time!” Eszu taunted from above with the rest of the Dracus cheering along at the desperate defending archers.

  The Dracus let out a booming battle cry that echoed down through the streets where Wulfsige and his soldiers were; anxiously awaiting the ogres and rebels pounding away at the gate relentlessly.

  “Don't turn your eyes to the skies,” Wulfsige ordered, staring straight ahead. “Whatever is behind those gates, that is our responsibility. That's our prey. Sahar and the others above, they're doing their job, now let us do ours!” Wulfsige thrust his massive battle ax in the air that was followed by a wave of roaring cheers, returning the favor above to the Dracus.

  The Dracus continued teasing Sahar and the others up top. Hardly anything was working, and getting through. No one knew how to operate the ballistae, something Sahar completely forgot to account for. After all, he wasn't used to directing a group so unprepared, and untrained.

  Sahar ran toward one of the ballistae to help out one of the soldiers operating them. “Aim in front of them, predict their path and where they will be, not where they are. Do you understand?”

  “Sir, I'll try, but they move so quickly up there,” the grunt pleaded.

  “Then let me show you they can be taken down.” Sahar tracked a Dracus in the sky, and led the crossbolt perfectly to impale his target—sending the Dracus riding it crashing down. “Never think of the enemy as anyone better than you are, or you will have already lost.”

  The soldier's spirit renewed, and he took his seat to follow Sahar's orders with a look filled with the fire. Sahar sent a grunt in either direction to the other ball
istic to relay the messages, and suddenly, rocs began falling out from the skies one after another.

  Eszu looked behind him at his fallen with seething eyes. “Focus on those ballistae, and anyone operating them!”

  Sahar unsheathed his sword, standing still amid the chaos—daring any Dracus to try and pluck him up in the roc's clutches. The moment one of them approached, and its roc's claws popped, Sahar stepped aside, slashing at the Dracus riding it, before mounting the mighty bird himself without any trouble. Sahar took flight into the skies, and it prompted loud cheers that buoyed the spirits of the soldiers seeing their captain taking the fight to them.

  Sahar proudly led the charge, fearlessly challenging every Dracus in his way in the skies. He didn't care how many deep gashes he received on his way if it meant he could get through them in the end. It was his duty to be a bastion of strength for those below using him as their inspiration, he wasn't about to let these wounds bring him down.

  Eszu took up his spear, watching Sahar with an incensed gaze. “Ralak, lead the charge down below. Make landfall and push forward into the city. We're finished fooling around up here.”

  Ralak acknowledged Eszu's orders, and signaled for the Dracus to charge down at the wall to land and begin their push within the city. There wasn't any bit of doubt in his mind Eszu could handle this.

  Both Eszu and Sahar leaned into their rocs, cutting through the skies in approaching one another with hungry glares that tried to impose their will on the other. The moment they clashed, their spears missed one another, but their rocs' claws became tangled up—flapping their wings in a messy panic, trying to unhook from each other. Spiraling uncontrollably through the sky, Sahar and Eszu slashed, and pushed at each other to send the other tumbling to their death.

  “You think you stand a chance in a fight like this?” Eszu said with a maddened look through his sharp, grinning teeth, gripping Sahar's wrists to hold him in place.

  “There's always a chance.” Sahar gritted back, feeling the immense strength of Eszu holding his wrists back with ease. “I might have lost to you in the war, but this time is different. This time I'm the one on the right side,” Sahar pushed back with all his might, shifting Eszu's strength off balance enough where he could free his spear and slash Eszu on his shoulder.