The Fallen Kings

by P D Atkerson

  Unfortunately, it was on the other side of the hall from him, and he had to pass three torches to get to it. Each time would be a chance for the guard to spot him. What was he going to do?

  Use your gift. A voice whispered to him. Could he? He hadn’t really tried to use them before. But they were some kind of tempest gift, and he might just be able to put the torches out. Or at least cause them to flicker out long enough to make it to the door.

  It was worth a try.

  Closing his eyes, Aroron let out a slow breath. Come on. He told himself. He could do this; he knew he could! He clinched his fists and the ground beneath him began to tremble. He wasn’t sure if he was causing it, or if it was his nerves.

  A white light shot across Aroron’s eye lids, then a strong breeze blew through the hall.

  The second the torches were blown out, he shot towards the door and grabbed the handle. Draven! Aroron cursed in his head. The door was locked! He needed to hurry. He could already hear the guard working to light the torches again.

  Snatching a knife from his belt, Aroron shoved it into the hole between the door and the doorframe. Shoving against the wood it groaned, then snapped and the door slid open. He heard the guard call out if someone was there, just as he stepped through the door and closed it as quietly as he could behind him.

  Leaning against the door, to make sure it stayed closed, Aroron waited for the guard to pass. Dreading the whole time that he’d check the door and see the broken wood. The hallway outside the door was silent for a few moments, before he dared step away.

  He looked around him. This was quite possibly the darkest room Aroron had seen the whole time he’d been in the Palace. There were no outer windows, allowing light to stream in. He took in a deep breath, taking a silent step forwards and into the darkness. Holding his hands out in front of him so he didn’t run into anything, he ran his hands along the wall, until he found a torch

  He lit the torch and pulled it out of its holder.

  Slowly, the light grew stronger, until most of the room could be seen, with strange shadows playing on the walls.

  One of the first things Aroron noticed was that sheets covered most of the stuff in the room. It was an eerie sight, with dust coating the floor and cobwebs hanging from the roof. The place looked like it hadn’t been touched in years.

  A child’s bed sat against one wall, with a dusty old bear sticking out from under the cloth. For some unknown reason, the place seemed vaguely familiar, as if from a dream. Carefully, he ran his hand along one of the shelves, filled with children’s tales. Even the wood toys sitting in the corner, he was sure he’d seen before. But why? He wondered, with a sigh. He was sure he’d never stepped foot in the room before.

  Aroron couldn’t allow himself any more time to think about it, he needed to get to Slanslot. He was running out of time to speak with him. He’d just have to figure out the answer to his questions later.

  He turned towards the door, praying it would lead to the room with Slanslot. Blowing out the torch, he reached for the handle.

  Luckily, this door wasn’t locked and slid open without a sound.

  A dull light seeped through the doorway and lit the wood floor in front of Aroron. Stepping inside, it didn’t take him long to spot the Eloun. Curled up next to the fireplace, was Slanslot. His white hair looked almost red in the strange colored light from the flames.

  “Are you alright?” Aroron whispered, pulling his hood down as he stepped deeper into the light the fire cast into the room.

  Slowly, the Eloun turned towards him.

  “Aroron? I thought I saw you in the throne room. What are you doing here?” Slanslot asked, squinting at him. “You’re just putting yourself in danger by being here.”

  “What was I supposed to do? Act like I hadn’t seen you?” Aroron asked, squatting down beside him. “I wasn’t going to do that. Yesterday, I wasn’t even sure if you were still alive.”

  Slanslot sighed. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it that way. I’m glad you came, it’s good to see that you’re still alive. After what happened to Hatter, Lilay and I weren’t sure if you’d made it out alive either.”

  “Lilay? Is she…?” Aroron couldn't even finish his sentence, luckily the Eloun seemed to understand what he meant.

  “She’s fine.” Slanslot whispered, scooting to face Aroron. The sound of his chains scraping against the ground as he did so. “I thank the Creator that she doesn’t have to go through this. It would have been harder for me to make it through this if she were here.”

  “What happened?” Aroron asked. “How did you end up here, in these… chains?”

  “That’s a long story.” Slanslot said, rubbing his eyes. “The gist of it is, after we escaped Hatter with the rest of the survivors, somehow someone found out who we were and told. It was only about a day or two later, that raiders came for us. I fought them off the best I could, while Lilay made her escape. They took me away and you pretty much know the rest.”

  Aroron sighed and shook his head. “I wish there was something I could do for you. But even as the High Commander, there’s not much I can do to help you. You’re the king’s now. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said it that way.”

  “Why? It’s the truth. I mean, it could be worse.” Slanslot whispered, shrugging. “At least we’re both still alive. Oh! That reminds me, have you run into Walner here?”

  Aroron shook his head. “No, why?”

  “Well, we saw him after the fire, and he told us he planned on coming here to Shey.” Slanslot said. “I wasn’t sure if you’d have bumped into him here or not.”

  “Well, the city isn’t a small one.” Aroron said. “But I guess I’ll see you again, it’s one good thing that came from the treaty.”

  “Yes, but I wish I were here under other circumstances.” Slanslot said, with a sigh as he played with his chains.

  “I’m sorry. This is my fault, if you’d just stayed in Glunot…” Aroron sighed and shook his head. “I should never have let the High Elder talk me into letting you and Lilay come with me. If I hadn’t, the Zilladiens never would have enslaved you like this!”

  “Zilladiens?” Slanslot frowned at him. “Aroron, I don’t think you realize who they really are.”

  Frowning back at him, Aroron tilted his head. “What do you mean?”

  “What I mean is, they’re not Zilladiens.” Slanslot said, bending towards Aroron. “They’re…” outside the room, there was the sound of movement.

  “Sh!” Aroron hissed, cutting Slanslot off. “Someone’s coming. I’m going to be in such big trouble if someone finds me here with you.”

  “Then you need to get out of here.” Slanslot whispered, glancing around. “You need to leave, now!”

  Aroron frowned. “Are you sure? They might not even be coming this way, and I don’t want to leave you here alone if it is someone here to see you. Not after the way I saw Demy treat you.”

  “Aroron, I’ve been with those creatures for months now.” Slanslot said, forcing a smile. “The Shenockiens are saints compared to them. I can handle myself. Now get out of here, before it’s too late.”

  “Alright, I’ll go.” Aroron said, standing. “But I promise, I’ll come back again. I’ll help you find a way out of here.” Aroron turned around. Which door to go through? He wondered, glancing from the door leading back into the other room and the one behind the guard. He had to choose quickly.

  He had no idea which way the visitor might take. If they were like him and they didn’t want to be seen, then they might try the same door he went through.

  The choice wasn’t going to be easy, then again, he didn’t want to deal with the guard. So he decided to go back through the way he’d come. He doubted they would use that way.

  Aroron hurried towards the door and grabbed for the handle.

  He opened the door and found someone standing on the other side, with his hand held out, as if he’d been reaching to open it as well.

  “Telarian!” Aroron said, s
wallowing as he stepped back and out of the king’s way. He dropped his gaze. He’d made the wrong choice. Dealing with the guard would have been better.

  “Aroron.” He said, eyeing him as he stepped into the chamber and closed the door behind him. “What are you doing here?”

  “I…” Aroron glanced towards Slanslot, as his voice trailed off. What could he say? He couldn’t deny the real reason he was there. “I came to see the Eloun for myself.” He said. It wasn’t a lie, but it wasn’t the whole truth. Please, just leave it at that! Aroron silently begged the king.

  But unfortunately, he couldn’t hear inside of his head.

  “You came here alone? Are you trying to get yourself killed, now that we’re at peace?” he asked. “We don’t know what he might do to us. No one really knows what the Elouns are like.”

  “You were coming here alone, besides Slanslot wouldn’t…” Aroron caught himself too late. He closed his eyes and reprimanded himself. How could he have made such a stupid mistake? He shouldn’t have used the Eloun's real name.

  For a long moment, King Telarian just stared at Aroron. “You know him?” he whispered, glancing towards Slanslot, who still sat next to the fire, silently watching their exchange. “How do you know him?”

  There was no reason to deny it now, it was too late for that. Aroron sighed and nodded. “We traveled together before I came here. Ask Gana about it if you must, he was one of the friends with me in Hatter. One of the ones I wasn’t even sure survived the fire.”

  “And you knew he was an Eloun?” Telarian asked.

  Aroron hesitated, glanced towards Slanslot and nodded. “Yes, we traveled from Glunot together.”

  “The kingdom of the Elouns?” Telarian asked, his mouth agape. “And you never thought to tell me any of this? I’ve heard stories about the frozen city being awakened, but… well, I thought they were only stories. Now you’re telling me it’s true? He’s not the only Eloun out there?”

  “No, he’s not the only one, and it’s not a child's story about Glunot.” Aroron said, clearing his throat. “I was there when the city was awakened.”

  “So, the Second Great War really is coming.” King Telarian mumbled, shaking his head. “You still shouldn't have come here, without telling me.”

  “Does that really matter now? You have to break this treaty off, before it’s too late.” Aroron said, stepping towards the king. “You must! Are these really the kind of people you want to be allied with? People who think slavery is fine?”

  “I don’t have a choice!” Telarian hissed, slamming his foot down. “If we’d continued to fight the Zilladiens, all my soldiers would be dead, and I don’t think I could bear that burden. I don’t want anymore blood on my hands.”

  “On your hands? I was the one out there, fighting side by side with them, as they died!” Aroron said. “I was the one leading them to their deaths. The one standing there, while they fell by those monsters’ hands.”

  “I know it wasn’t any easier for you, but you’ve got to see this from my point of view.” King Telarian sighed. “Can’t you do that for me?”

  Aroron shook his head. “How can you get past what they’ve done to your people? Or how they treated Slanslot like a thing they owned, and not a person?”

  “I can’t break the treaty, Aroron. It’s too late” Telarian said. “I’m sorry your friend got in the middle of this, but that’s not my fault.” Telarian sighed and rubbed his head, as he looked at Slanslot. “I promise you this though, I’ll make sure he’s taken care of and when things have settled down, I’ll let him leave. Would that satisfy you?”

  He couldn’t believe Telarian! He’d never thought of him as a coward, but now he was starting to wonder.

  “Yes, your majesty.” Aroron said, sharply. “I’d hate to disagree with you.”

  “Don’t be like that Aroron!” Telarian snapped. “I can’t handle this from you right now.”

  “What’s wrong with what I’m doing?” Aroron asked. “Having my own mind? I’m sorry if you don’t like that! But that's just who I am.”

  “Aroron, stop acting like a child.” Telarian said, shaking his head at him. “I’m not doing this just because you don’t want me to. I’m doing what I think is best for my kingdom, and if you don’t like it, that's alright with me.”

  “You know, I’m not sure I can follow a king who believes in slaves.” Aroron whispered, stepping back from him. “Even if it is under certain circumstances.”

  Telarian’s shoulders drooped and he frowned at him. “What are you saying?”

  It was too late now for Aroron to stop. “I’m saying, after tonight, I resign as a centurion (or High Commander or whatever you want to call me) and I am leaving Shey.” There! He’d said it. There was no taking it back now.

  “Aroron, don’t say something you’re going to regret later.” Telarian said, holding his hand up.

  “I haven’t.”

  Telarian dropped his gaze and sighed. “If that's truly how you feel, then I release you from your position, without malice or reserve.” He whispered, staring at the ground. “Go in peace, if that’s what you wish.”

  Aroron bowed towards the king. “If you’ll pardon me, my lord. I’m sure we both must get back to the party.” He said, stepping around him and towards the door.

  “Don’t end it like this, Aroron.” Telarian said, grabbing Aroron’s arm. “I won’t force you to stay, but I don’t want you to go either.”

  “I cannot stay in the same city as those foul people.” Aroron said, then he nodded towards Slanslot. “Goodbye, may we meet again in better times.”

  Telarian released his grip and Aroron left to go to the ball room, where Gana waited for him. She had no idea this was where he’d spend his last night in Shey, and Aroron couldn’t bring himself to tell her.

  Gana hooked her arm through his and looked up into his face. “Is something wrong?” she asked, frowning.

  “Oh… I was just thinking how crazy this is.” Aroron whispered to her, as he looked around him at the warriors and soldiers scattered about the room. “We’re having a party, after we’ve just lost hundreds of men in battle to these Zilladiens. Yet, here we are, eating and drinking with them, as if none of it ever happened.”

  “Oh, Aroron!” Gana said, shaking her head at him. “At the moment, there is peace in Shey, don’t you think we should be glad of that?” she asked, raising her eyebrow. “Why don’t you want to celebrate with me?”

  “How can I celebrate, when we’ve let these monsters into the city?” Aroron asked, crossing his arm as he glared out at the warriors. He couldn’t shake the feeling that he’d seen some of them before. Maybe from the Lower Town. “We give up our city, and they give us a slave.”

  “He’s an Eloun, he’ll be able to help Telarian rule.” Gana said. “I understand where you’re coming from, but I honestly believe the Eloun’s going to be better off here than with the Zilladiens, do you not agree?”

  “He’s better off with his own people.” Aroron said. “He doesn’t deserve to be treated like an animal. Chained up and given as a gift!”

  “I don’t want to argue with you, Aroron.” Gana said, moving closer to him. “Not after everything we’ve been through.”

  “Gana, I’m not arguing with you.” Aroron said, glancing towards her. “Can I not tell you my thoughts without you judging me as well?”

  “Who else has judged you?” Gana asked. “Not I! I just wonder if we must stand here all night, like old hermits? Or could we dance a bit?” as she spoke, her eyes lit up. “Come on, Aroron. You know you want to! I think it will be good for you.”

  Aroron’s shoulders drooped and he turned to face her. “Gana, I’m sorry. You should have come here with someone else. I’m afraid I’m not in the mood to dance.” Not that he ever was in the mood for that. “I’m sure if you wanted to, any of these young men would be willing to dance with you. Just don’t dance with a Zilladien, for me.”

  “Well, if you’re not going to danc
e, I suppose I won’t either.” Lady Gana said, crossing her arms as she shoved her chin out.

  “Don’t…” Aroron lost his train of thought, when he saw one of the Zilladien warriors looking at him. When he saw Aroron had seen him, he turned away and hurried through one of the ball room doors.

  Aroron was still watching the door, long after it had closed behind the warrior. Even though he was gone, Aroron could see in his head, the Warrior’s fiery red hair. There was only one person he knew that had hair that bright red.

  Enrick? No, it couldn’t be. Could it? Aroron wondered, staring at the door.

  Chapter 26

  Enrick

  For a second, Aroron just stood there, frozen. Unsure what to do, not even sure if he'd really seen him or not. Was his mind playing tricks on him? No. He was sure it was him. The person couldn’t have been anyone other than Enrick. He could feel it. Since they were children, for some unknown reason, they’d always had a connection.

  What nerve it would take to come back here after what he'd done and everything that had happened. But then again, only Aroron knew who he was. Without really thinking about it, Aroron slowly moved towards the door the red headed boy had just slipped through.

  If it was Enrick, Aroron needed to speak with him. Maybe it wasn't true. Maybe Aroron’s fears weren’t real and Enrick hadn’t killed King Dillaran, after all, what good would that have done him?

  "Where are you going?" Lady Gana asked, grasping Aroron's arm, just as he realized, he’d moved away from her.

  Aroron turned back to face her and forced a smile. There was no way he could tell her the truth, not here anyways. "I'll be back in a minute, my lady," he said, then he took her hand and kissed it. "I promise I'll be back before the night is over. There's something I must do, trust me. Go have fun with some of the other nobles."

  Gana sighed. "Alright, but be quick about it! Please, I still want that dance from you." She said, smiling. “Even if you don’t want to.”