The Fallen Kings

by P D Atkerson

  He continued on like this, until the sky began to turn a dark blue and edge towards black. It was then that Aroron heard a sound in the court yard behind him.

  The snow crunched again, and for a second, he froze. Then he sprang into action.

  Aroron twisted around and brought his sword short of the person’s neck. “What brings you out so late, High Elder?” he asked, lowering his sword. It was then he realized he didn’t even know the Eloun's name. Maybe he wasn’t the only one, he hadn’t heard anyone else say his name either.

  The Eloun smiled. “You brought me out here this late, Aroron. I heard you out here and thought I’d watch for a bit.”

  Aroron sighed and turned away, swinging his sword around in the air. “Ah… great. I just love people watching me, especially when I’m training.” He mumbled, gripping his blade tighter. For a second, he thought he saw one of the dragons’ heads move, but he wasn’t positive, so he decided to ignore it.

  “What was it like?” the High Elder asked, breaking into Aroron’s thoughts once again.

  Was he going to pester him all night? Aroron sighed. He should have known he wasn’t going to just watch. The Elouns didn’t seem able to just sit quietly. Aroron slammed his sword down into the ground and turned towards the High Elder.

  “What are you talking about?” He asked. “What was what like?”

  “What was it like, losing who you really are? For this… shadow of a person?” He asked.

  Aroron stared at him.

  “I never lost who I am.” Aroron said, turning away. As he did, the dragons on the hilt of his sword began to awaken and shift around. So, he hadn’t been imagining it. Ever since he’d awakened the Elouns, the sword become more attached to his emotions and the dragons seemed to know how he was feeling better than he did.

  The High Elder eyed the sword and glanced towards Aroron. “I see I’ve upset you.” He said. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to.”

  Great! So now the High Elder thought he knew exactly how Aroron was feeling. Well, he didn’t! “You didn’t upset me.” Aroron growled. “I just don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  Without a word, the High Elder stepped towards Aroron and reached his hand towards Aroron’s face.

  Without thinking about it, Aroron grabbed the Eloun’s wrist and held his arm back. “What are you doing?” he asked, letting go and stepping back from the High Elder.

  “Just let me do what I do, Aroron.” The High Elder whispered.

  Aroron hesitated, still not sure. He didn’t really know him and he wasn’t sure what he was going to do. “Fine.” He mumbled. “But remember, I’ve got a sword in arms reach.”

  The High Elder nodded, placing his hands on Aroron’s face, his eyes flickered closed for a second. “There’s a darkness within you, Aroron.” He whispered, letting go. “A deep darkness.”

  “What?” Aroron asked, frowning. He was getting weirder and weirder the longer Aroron knew him.

  “There is a darkness inside of you.” The High Elder whispered again. “A darkness which makes you unable to remember who you truly are and the fate you are destined for. I cannot remove it, only you can do that for yourself. You must choose to remember, and the time will come when you do. But that time is not yet.”

  “Do you only speak in riddles?” Aroron growled, pulling away from him. He yanked his sword out again and turned to leave. How could he say there was ‘darkness’ in Aroron? He didn’t even know him!

  “Aroron, wait!” The High Elder called after him. “Here, this is for you.” He said, holding a bundle out to Aroron.

  He just wanted to get away from the man! So, with his free hand, Aroron took it from him. “A coat?” he mumbled, half to himself. It was a very nice coat. “Why are you giving this to me?”

  “Because, you can’t continue to wear that old thing.” The High Elder said, motioning to Aroron’s old and worn out cloak. “Besides, I can’t think of anyone else who should have it.”

  Aroron slipped the coat on and looked down at himself. It fit him perfectly. “Thank you.” He mumbled, running his hand across the dark blue leather fabric. He didn’t know why, but it reminded him of something.

  “You look so much like him.” The High Elder whispered, looking Aroron over, a sadness in his eyes.

  “Like who?” Aroron asked, looking down at the coat again.

  “Larken Strangeheart, it was his coat. He was the first and only other Dragon King, other than you, I’ve ever known.” The High Elder said. “You said earlier that the Strangeheart line was cut off, but when I look at you, I don’t believe it for a second. There is no doubt in my mind that you’re a Strangeheart, through and through.”

  Aroron shook his head. “I’m not a Strangeheart.”

  “Yet, you still show the traits of the Strangehearts I knew, from before the Slumber.” He said. “Stubbornness being one of them.”

  Aroron dropped his gaze and swallowed.

  In the back of his mind, he'd hoped Hunter was lying when he told him his father was King Ozony Strangeheart. He didn't want to be a noble. They were all the same, ruthless and uncaring.

  “So, you think I’m a Strangeheart too?” Aroron asked. He sheathed his sword and turned towards the High Elder again. “Is that what you’re saying? Why wouldn’t I remember that?”

  “I’ve already told you why.” The High Elder said. “There’s a darkness in your mind that hides the truth from you. I’ve seen the same kind of darkness before, back during the Great War. They used it to manipulate people.”

  “So, you didn’t really come here to watch me, did you? You came here to tell me what you thought!” Aroron said. “I have been here for the past six weeks, and yet all anyone here has done, is talk! During the Great War, was talking all any of you ever did?!”

  “One day you will lead an army against the Prince of Demise.” The High Elder said. “That day might not be soon, but one day it will come and you will see that jumping into action isn’t always the best thing to do.”

  Aroron glared at him. “You expect me to one day lead an army against this Prince of Demise, but you won’t even let me speak my mind! I don’t want any of this. I just want a normal life. Don’t you get that? I never asked for any of this.”

  “You will never be normal, Aroron.” The High Elder said. “No matter how many times you wish it. You will bring King Munay down, and you will one day be made High King, but none of that will matter if you do not learn to control your anger, as you do your other emotions.”

  Aroron snorted. “As long as I have breath in my lungs, I won’t ever become king, let alone High King.”

  “We don’t always get to choose how the Creator uses us.”

  “Well, I’m not even sure I believe in this ‘Creator’!” Aroron spat, turning away. “It’s getting late, we should both go to bed.” He said. “Goodnight, High Elder.” Without waiting for the High Elder to respond, he hurried out of the court yard and through the halls until he came to his chamber.

  * * *

  This wasn’t at all what Enrick had been expecting to be doing when his father had said he would give him a command. It turned out ‘command’ was a fluid word. In Enrick’s mind it had meant the whole Karlien army. But in King Munay’s mind, it meant ten Castle Guards, wandering around the outer edges of Karlay for all eternity.

  Enrick’s men filled most of the tavern’s benches, their noise was growing to be a little too much for him, but he said nothing. Let them have their fun. He thought to himself. It wasn’t as if they’d had much luck looking for this stupid person, who may or may not exist. They might be making a lot of noise, but at least they didn’t reek like the rest of the men in the room.

  He wondered if any of them had bathed in their lives! They smelled fouler than the sewage running through the streets of the village.

  Then again, he probably smelled himself. He hadn’t bathed since leaving the Dark Castle. Which wasn’t long after Dasety confessed to King Munay that he knew how they
could use the Heart.

  Instead of letting Enrick take Shey down, he’d sent him out looking for this girl, who would be able to use the Heart, or at least that’s what they hoped. He didn’t really know much about her, other than that she was an Oddity and at one point, close to Dasety.

  Sighing, Enrick motioned the tavern keeper for another flask of ale, as he slugged back the last of the one, he had. It was little better than water, but at least it was better and hopefully it wouldn’t make him sick.

  “Are you alright, my lord?” one of his warriors asked, walking over to Enrick and sitting down next to him.

  “Am I alright?” Prince Enrick repeated. “Are you kidding me?! We’ve spent the last five weeks searching every village within ten miles of the border and we still haven’t found this ‘mystery girl’ who can wield the Heart!” He growled, flinging his empty goblet across the room. It hit the wall with a ‘thud’ and fell harmlessly to the ground. “The king expects me to work miracles! We aren’t even sure she’s anywhere near here.”

  “Is it really that bad, sir?”

  “If we don’t find her, I’m never going to be made Commander and will always be a stupid Captain!” Enrick hissed, kicking at the table. He could see why his father was always breaking things. It seemed to help. “The king teases me with the fact that I might one day control the armies of Karlay, but I doubt he’ll ever give up that power. Not to me at least. Not if I don’t find the Feeler.”

  The warrior shuffled his feet. “Not to speak out of turn, but maybe we should try a new tactic.” He mumbled, staring at the ground.

  “Fray, that might very well be the smartest thing you’ve ever said.” Enrick said, a grin tugging at his face. “And we’re in the prefect spot.”

  “How so, sir?”

  “If you wanted to know something, who would you ask?”

  Fray shrugged. “Who, sir?”

  “The tavern keeper.” Enrick said, with a wink as he sprung to his feet. He moved to the front of the tavern, leaned against the counter and glanced around. “If I was looking for someone, an Oddity, maybe, who would I speak to about that?” he whispered to the tavern keeper.

  The tavern keeper eyed Enrick before speaking. “Now why would you be wanting to know that for?”

  “That’s for me to know, and for you not to ask.” Enrick said, then he smiled and slid his hand into his coin pouch. He drew out a handful of coins and placed them on the counter. “Now, what’s the answer?”

  The tavern keeper’s eyes lit up and he licked his lips. “Big Jim.” He said, snatching up the coins. “He knows everything that goes on in the city.”

  “And where would I find him?” Enrick asked, placing a couple more coins down.

  The tavern keeper looked around and bent closer to Enrick. “You’ll find him in the south part of town, known as criminal lane.” He whispered. “But it might not be wise of you to go there. It’s filled with unsavory people. A young man like you don't belong there, you wouldn’t last long being alone and all.”

  “Who said I was going alone?” Enrick asked, grinning as he turned to face the room full of people. He whistled and all the warriors turned towards him. “Time to go.” He said, motioning to the door with his head. “We might have a lead on the girl.”

  As one, the ten men stood up and moved to follow Enrick out of the tavern.

  They didn’t have to go far to find the place they were looking for.

  This was obviously the area the tavern keeper had meant by ‘Criminal Lane’. It was as if the atmosphere itself had changed.

  Interesting looking people lurked in the shadows. All of them looked like they would kill you first, and find out if you had any money later. They strangely reminded Enrick of a few of his father’s Loyal Warriors, just not as nicely clothed.

  “Ungroup.” Enrick ordered his men. “They won’t let us get far if they think we’re all together. They’ll only see us as a threat.”

  Turning away, Enrick stepped forwards and left his men behind. Though, he knew they really wouldn’t be far behind him.

  He was just passing one of the buildings, when someone stepped out and walked past Enrick. The man slammed his shoulder into Enrick, as he passed. Enrick thought about teaching the man a lesson, but decided it wasn’t worth wasting his time over. Too bad the man didn’t agree.

  “Watch where you’re going, pig head!” the man said, spitting after Enrick.

  Enrick stopped short, wiped the spit off the back of his neck, and slowly turned back towards him. “What did you just say?” he asked, taking a step forward. Enrick held his hand at his side, palm open. Signaling his men to stand back, at least for a moment.

  If he wanted them, they would be there in a second.

  “You deaf, too?” the man asked, as his two gruff, ugly friends moved to stand next to him. “I said, watch it pig head!” They obviously thought they could intimidate Enrick, the thought made him smile.

  He looked the man over. If looks were any indication, he was a criminal through and through. There wasn’t an honest bone in the man’s body. He looked like the type of man Enrick was looking for.

  “Let me guess, you’re Big Jim?” Enrick asked, raising his eyebrow.

  He sneered at Enrick. “That be depending on why you’re asking, Draven.” The man spat, stepping towards him.

  “Do you know who I am?” Enrick asked calmly, as the man stood just a few feet in front of him and more of the man’s ‘friends’ moved toward him. The idiots all thought he was alone, his clothing probably told them the truth, that he had money.

  But they weren’t going to touch a cent of it, Enrick was sure of that.

  “Now, why would anyone care who you are?!” the man snarled. “Tell me what you want, or I’m going to have one of my friends here break one of your little arms, and then maybe one of your legs too.”

  “So, you are ‘Big Jim’.” Enrick said. “I have to say, I expected more. And you know what? You really should care who I am.” As he spoke, he placed his hand on the hilt of his sword.

  Within seconds all his men came together, drew their swords and encircled Big Jim and his gang of thugs. There was no mistaking them for anything other than what they were, warriors trained to kill. None of the lowlifes even tried to fight them off.

  Prince Enrick drew his own sword and motioned to his men. “The answer to who I am, you foul creature, is the person who’s holding your life in the palm of their hand.” He whispered, as two of his warriors shoved Big Jim to his knees and he held the tip of his blade against the man’s neck. “I could easily spill your blood upon this road, and I doubt your men would even try to stop me.”

  Big Jim swallowed, but said nothing.

  By now a crowd of thieves (and probably murderers) had gathered around them. But none of them seemed interested in helping Big Jim. Enrick doubted the man treated anyone nicely.

  He turned back towards the man and smiled. This had to be humiliating for him, and Enrick loved it.

  Enrick drew his sword back, then slammed the heel of his boot into the man, turning towards the crowd. “Spread the word, I’m looking for a Feeler and I won’t stop until I get one. I will cut down anyone in my way until I find her! I will be in Hatter waiting for her. If she does not show, I will burn the city and it will be on her head!”

  He glanced down at Big Jim.

  “If she doesn’t show up, I’ll find you again and I will personally end you and your little ‘friends’. Now, get out of my sight!” Enrick spat, kicking the man.

  Glaring at Enrick, Big Jim shoved himself off the ground, and both he and his men edged away from the prince and his warriors.

  Enrick watched them leave, then spun around and headed back towards their camp. The crowd separated, as Enrick and his men moved towards them.

  Enrick felt great. He’d turned ‘Big Jim’ into a wounded puppy in less than a minute.

  For a second, the smile slipped off his face. Maybe he was more like his father than he wished to
admit. The thought nagged at him the whole way back to their campsite and even as he went to his tent and sat down, he couldn’t get it out of his mind.

  He looked down at the map spread out across the table in front of him and tapped his finger at Hatter. What was he going to do if she didn’t show up? He might as well forget any plans he might have had; his father would never forgive him for failing.

  The only solution he could think of, was he couldn't fail.

  “Fray!” Prince Enrick yelled. “Come here!”

  A second later, an out of breath Fray appeared. “Yes, my lord?”

  “Tell the soldiers to pack up, we’re heading to Hatter.” Enrick said, shoving himself back to his feet. “If she doesn’t show up there, we will continue to search every inch of the realm for her.” He said. “We will find her, no matter how long it takes! I will find her!”

  Fray nodded. “Yes, sir. But what do you want us to do about the village?”

  Enrick looked through the tent flaps, towards the village, to its little building with small minded people, and he shrugged. “Burn it down.”

  Fray bowed, left the tent and the men went to work.

  Wearing their dark armor, the warriors went from building to building pouring the Devil’s Tongue on the ground. Ten minutes later they returned to where Enrick waited, carrying their now empty bags.

  “It’s done, sir.” One of the warriors said, bowing towards the prince.

  “Very good. Do the honors and set it a light, Fray.” Enrick said, swinging himself up into the saddle. “Then we will ride on to Hatter.”

  “Yes, my lord.” Fray said, smiling as he knelt down.

  He pulled out his match box and lit the tail end of the Devil Tongue, quickly moving back. Instantly, it jumped five feet into the sky and set to work, burning the village to the ground. By the end of the night, there wouldn’t be anything left but ashes and embers.

  Those who survived the fire, would not soon forget it!