by P D Atkerson
CONTENTS
Map
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
The Fallen Kings
by P.D. ATKERSON
The Fallen Kings (of Aleanare book 2)
Copyright © 2019 P.D. Atkerson
All rights reserved.
This is a work of fiction. Names, places and any reference, are the product of the author's imagination and are used fictitiously.
Cover design by Natasha Atkerson
Edited by Natasha and Lorna Atkerson
Published in the United States of America
Illustrations by Natasha Atkerson
Dedication to:
The One who forgives us all.
Chapter 1
"When words replace action, kingdoms fall and tyrants reign."
War Council
Aroron sat, staring at the mural of the night sky painted on the roof of the council room. Counting the stars was tedious, but not as much as listening to the Elouns drone on. They would argue and decide something else was a better idea, then they would argue over that too. He wasn’t sure how much more he could take!
Six long weeks. He thought to himself.
That was how long he’d been in Glunot and it felt like a life time. After he’d awakened the Elouns, nothing outside the city limits had changed.
The Elouns had done nothing to change what was going on out there, like they said they would. King Munay was still running free, doing who knows what to ruin what was left of Karlay and the rest of Aleanare.
It seemed to Aroron, that all the Elouns cared about was making plans, but never implementing them. Almost every day since he’d gotten there, had been spent in this boring, dull, room, listening to them make up ideas of how to take on this ‘Prince of Demise’.
They weren’t even sure who he really was!
For all they knew, Aroron could be the Prince. And about the rest of it? They knew little more than he did. But still, they treated Aroron like they were so much smarter than him and knew all there was to know.
It was driving Aroron crazy!
He’d tried his best to act civil towards them, and to see what they might know. He was sure there was a lot he could learn from them. They seemed to know everything about the kings and queens of old. But listening to them hadn’t helped him. In fact, all the stories they’d told him, had only made him want to go out there even more, and do something about Munay!
Today he couldn’t just sit there quietly, doing nothing while they talked on and on. He couldn’t take this stupid chatter any longer! Something had to be done, and if they weren’t going to do something about it, maybe he’d have to do it alone.
It didn’t matter, not anymore.
In those six weeks, he’d changed from the boy he’d been. He wanted to help the Karliens and not just keep himself safe anymore. But the Elouns obviously hadn’t changed, even after their thousand-year slumber.
Well, he wasn’t going to sleep anymore.
Sitting up, Aroron turned back towards the huge oak table and slid Kant’s knife out of his belt, and slammed it hard into the table, causing the Elouns around the table to jump and look towards him.
“I’ve always been told that the Elouns were a wise race.” Aroron said, trying to cool himself off, as he dug his nails into the hilt of the knife. “If your plan is to talk this ‘Prince of Demise’ to death, it might very well work. Because you’ve about killed me with your constant chatter! Where is your action? Or are you only people of words?!"
“How dare you!” Slanslot said, standing up and placing his palms onto the table, as he glared at Aroron. He was the youngest Eloun invited into the war council, and openly disliked Aroron. The feeling was mutual. “This is our way,” he continued, “and you have no right to come in here and say anything about it. I’m not even sure why you’re here in the first place!”
“Do you have a problem with me?” Aroron asked, as he stepped towards Slanslot and fought back his anger. He took in a deep breath and unclenched his fists. “As I recall, you would still be a frozen statue if it wasn’t for me. Or have you already forgotten that I’m the Dragon King?”
Slanslot scoffed, at Aroron. “I’m still not sure you really are the ‘Dragon King’! You’re just a child, even by mortal standards. You’re barely able to take care of yourself, how could you ever be a king? You are a nobody!”
His words hurt Aroron, mostly because he knew they were true. Slanslot was right. Who was he to tell them what to do?
“Both of you stop it!” the High Elder snapped, slamming his fist against the table, his eyes ablaze. “Now, sit! Right now.”
Glaring at Slanslot, Aroron sat down and crossed his arms, holding his chin high. “If you want to talk, then I’ll talk.” He said. “King Munay’s the biggest threat to the realm and anyone who knows him, knows it’s true! He’s the one we need to worry about, not some unknown ‘prince’. If you want to help the realm, then you need to take King Munay down.”
“King Munay?” the High Elder said, leaning back against his throne. He squinted and frowned. “And who is he?”
Aroron looked around the table at the questioning faces, waiting for him to answer.
He’d forgotten everyone here had been asleep for a thousand years. Long before Munay took the throne, or was even born for that matter. Why should they know who he is? None of them knew of the horrors he’d inflicted upon the Karliens and the edges of the other kingdoms. He was a black spot on the realm’s landscape.
He is a thief, a killer and a monster! Aroron thought to himself. And they’re all naive to that fact.
Aroron took a deep breath and decided to start with something simple, as if he was speaking to a child. He leaned back and uncrossed his arms. “King Munay is the ruler of Karlay.”
The High Elder frowned and looked even more confused than he had a minute before. “He’s a Strangeheart then?”
Aroron laughed and shook his head. “No, why would you think that? He’s a Moone.”
“A Moone? I never heard of the family.” Slanslot said, obviously not wanting to believe anything Aroron said. “It doesn’t even sound like a noble's name.” Well, Aroron didn’t care if he believed him or not. He knew what he said was the truth and it still would be, if Slanslot believed him or not. It didn’t matter.
“What happened to the Strangehearts?” one of the other Elouns asked, cutting into Aroron’s thoughts. “They were the rulers of Karlay when we were put to sleep.”
Aroron’s throat tightened and he turned towards him, his stomach turning sour. He hated talking about this part of the Karlien history. “Their line was cut off… by Munay.” He whispered. “There are no Strangehearts left in any part of Aleanare. They’re all dead and buried.”
The Elouns all stared at him, as if he’d grown a third eye.
“The Strangehearts are all gone?” The High Elder whispered, and Aroron nodded. “I wouldn’t have guessed.” He said, rubbing his chin.
“What happened to them?”
Aroron shrugged. “I don’t know, I was only a child at the time. But I’ve heard my fair share of stories.”
“And what are those stories?” one of the other Elouns asked.
“Well, Karliens believe that Munay stopped an army from taking over the castle, and that he only took the throne after King Ozony killed himself out of fear of the attackers.” Aroron said, hesitating. “But I’ve also heard others say there wasn’t another army. Munay was the attacker and it was all orchestrated for a coup.”
“Are you sure that’s all you know about the matter?” The High Elder asked. Evidently, he expected more from Aroron, but there was nothing else to say.
“Either way, King Munay’s a monster, that’s all there is to say.”
“He still doesn’t sound like a traitor to me.” Slanslot mumbled, slouching down in his seat. “Unless you call doing his job ‘evil’.” He said, with a snort. “In that case, I guess most people are ‘evil’.”
“Doing his job, huh? Is that what you think he’s doing? He’s a cold-blooded murderer.” Aroron hissed, fighting the urge to lunge at him. “How do you Elouns define a ‘traitor’ then? I’m interested to know!”
“The Prince of Demise will not be a mortal!” Slanslot said. “Everyone knows a mortal's not powerful enough to do what he’ll be able to do. Besides, he’s called the ‘Prince of Demise’ not the ‘King of Demise’, even if Munay was immortal. Maybe you should learn more about it before you start picking out who’s who in prophecy, and who’s not.”
“Slanslot, watch what you’re saying.” The High Elder said, pointing a finger at him. “Before you make a fool of yourself.”
“No, I won’t. I won’t make a fool of myself and I won’t stop saying what I believe!” Slanslot spat. “Only mortals are afraid of another mortal, and that is the truth of what’s wrong with Aroron.”
Aroron’s eyes flashed, the ground beneath him began to tremble and the walls groaned.
He wanted to tear the place part, from the inside out. But he restrained himself. “I may only be a mortal, Slanslot.” He spat the name. “But I know what I’m talking about when it comes to King Munay and the rest of this realm! I don’t understand how you can think you’re so smart, when you know nothing about the real world!” Aroron said. “This little ice palace, or whatever you want to call it, is paradise compared the rest of the realm. Staying here just means you're hiding away from the darkness outside your walls, which you’re too afraid to face.”
“What is he even doing here?!” Slanslot asked, turning towards the Elouns. His face was red and Aroron had obviously hit a nerve. “He’s not one of us and we don’t know he’s the Dragon King. For all we know, he’s an impostor who’s trying to use us for some reason.”
“Aroron woke us up, Slanslot.” Lilay whispered, speaking in front of the council for the first time. “He’s the Elhor, there is no doubt in my mind. Just because you wish it not to be, doesn’t make it so.”
“Besides, he’s an Oddity, which makes him a part of us.” One of the other Elouns added, giving a polite smile. “Even if he’s not ‘one of us’ as you say.”
“Oh! Well, if he’s an Oddity than that changes things!” Slanslot said, snorting. “Please! There are thousands of Odditys out there! What does it matter if he’s one of them or not? It doesn’t change what I’m saying.”
Thousands of Odditys? Aroron wondered, realizing that was something else that had changed over a thousand years. They had no idea there were only a few hundred Odditys left in the realm, at most.
“That’s enough for me. I’m obviously not wanted here!” Aroron hissed, standing up. He yanked the knife back out of the table, looking around at the Elouns, most of whom had been silent during the whole thing. “If you change your mind and decide you want to do something to help the people of the realm, come find me. But until then, good day to you all.” With that he spun around, marched towards the room’s doors. He threw them both open and stormed out. He’d hardly noticed the fact that he’d barely touched the doors to open them.
There they were again! Treating him as if he was inferior, just because he wasn’t an Eloun. Well, it didn’t matter to him anymore. He was sick and tired of it and he saw now that they were truly no different than anyone else.
They might be immortal, but that didn’t mean they were more important than anyone else in the realm. And if they really thought that, then maybe it would have been better if he’d never woken them up!
“Aroron, wait!” He heard someone yell after him, breaking through his thoughts.
Glancing back, Aroron saw Lilay running after him. Shaking his head at her, he turned away and continued to walk away as fast as he could without running. Right then, he didn’t care to speak with her. He wasn’t in a good mood and he had no idea why. No. That wasn’t quite true, it was Slanslot, and the fact that the Elouns seemed so content in doing nothing, that had put him in a bad mood.
They were nothing like the stories he’d heard growing up. Those people were fairy-tales. Wise, mysterious beings, who lived hundreds of years before. These people seemed to be just like everyone else, the only difference being they could live longer. But how you lived, mattered more than how long you lived.
The Elouns just don’t seem to get that! Aroron let out a long sigh, as he turned a corner. He wasn’t sure where he was going and he didn’t care.
“Please, wait!” Lilay called again, her breath heavy as her footsteps pounded behind him.
“Lilay, just stay out of this.” Aroron said, swiftly stopping and turning towards her. “I don’t want to get into it with you too. I just need to be left alone! Alright? Can’t you just leave me alone?!” He didn’t mean to yell at her, but right then he didn’t really care.
Lilay didn’t seem fazed by it. “Aroron, you must give us grace.” She said, catching up to where he stood. She held her side as she caught her breath. “We are Elouns, we are not used to fighting. We are a peaceful people and always have been. The thought of going to war scares the bravest of us, including Slanslot and the rest of the council.”
Aroron sneered. “Slanslot’s a fool!”
“Maybe,” she said, holding up her hands. “But that’s who he is and we cannot change him, we can only change ourselves.”
“So, what?!” Aroron snapped. “You expect me to change? Is that it?”
Lilay’s shoulders fell and her face grew stern. “That’s not what I said, Aroron.”
“Yeah, I’m pretty sure that’s exactly what you said! I get it. You think I should change, because I’m a mortal. Well, guess what? I’m never going to be a stuffy, stiff necked, Eloun like you and the rest. And I don’t want to be!”
She let out a long breath. “I won’t fight with you.”
“Oh?” Aroron said. “You won’t fight, huh? Then how do you expect to defeat this… Prince of Demise (whoever he is)? Sitting here, planning on doing something one day, hopefully before the rest of the realm is in ash?” he asked. “I’m sorry, that’s not something I can do. I can’t just watch and do nothing while the rest of the world burns! You don’t know what it’s like out there. You don’t even know who’s out there!”
“No, I don’t.” Lilay whispered, dropping her gaze. “Instead, I’ve spent the last eighty years of my life, alone, taking care of everyone else here!” she said, her eyes moist. “I may not know what it’s like outside this city’s boundaries. But I do know what it’s like to be alone and I believe that’s the real problem with you. You’re so used to being alone, you don’t know what to do with yourself when others are around. So, you push others away!”
Aroron couldn’t believe her! She hardly knew him, where did she get the idea, she could talk to him like that? She was just like the rest of the Elouns and thought she was better than him!
“You don’t know anything about me, so don’t meddle in my life. Oh! And don’t think for a second that we’re friends!” he hissed, turning away from her. “I don’
t have friends and I’m not planning on changing that.”
“Maybe this Munay isn’t as bad as you think he is.” Lilay said, grabbing his arm. “Maybe you’re painting him with your dark outlook on life!”
He spun around and glared at Lilay. “King Munay has an army made of boys he has dragged away from their families and everything they know and love.” Aroron said. “He kills for fun and no one will stand up to him! And if no one stops him, the realm will be his. You might be safe held up here, but what about everyone else?” He asked, pulling away from her. Without another word, he turned and hurried down the hallway.
They don’t know. Aroron thought to himself. They couldn’t know what a dark world the realm had become outside their beautiful little city. He couldn’t really blame them, but he wanted to. Their ‘better than you’ attitude was getting under his skin and he wasn’t sure how much more he could take.
Aroron needed to get some air and let off some steam.
With a smile, he realized he knew just what he needed to do. He glanced around him, then hurried outside.
* * *
Chapter 2
Search and Fight
It didn’t take Aroron long to find the nearest court yard, free of Elouns and a wide-open space. Plenty of room to fight.
When he stepped out into the open, he pulled off his cloak and drew his sword. The sound of the metal rang as he unsheathed it, reminding him of the night Shon gave it to him. It was a life time ago now. He was no longer the young boy who’d stood on top of the tower that night.
Shaking away the thoughts, Aroron took in a deep breath, ran forwards, jumped onto a stone bench on the edge of the court yard. Jumping over it, he rolled across the ground.
Landing on his feet, thrusting out his sword.
A cool breeze blew against him, but he hardly noticed it. It felt so good to be out in the clear evening air, free of worries. Just him, his sword, and an empty court yard. It was much better than sitting in that stuffy room, talking and talking.
Closing his eyes, he imagined an opponent standing in front of him. He quickly moved his sword around and blocked a fake cut, then another and another. His movements coming without him truly thinking about it. His body knew better than him what he needed to do.