Epistem- Rise of the Slave King's Heir

by Jani Griot

  Aemillious’s younger sister was promptly transferred from the back of one horse to another. She was hogtied. Incapacitated.

  The girls sat in choked silence before hearing glass shatter above them on the roof of the grand dining room. Yelling came from inside, and moments later, Ochloc’s slave fell from the sky only to collide with the ground where he remained still upon impact.

  The slave’s silver-haired companion from the Sky Kingdom came to his aid after only a few held breaths from the ruse boy. The younger boy strapped Ochloc’s slave to some sort of shield before thundering on horseback toward the ocean.

  “I have no words for this place,” said the blonde to herself. Grunts and dejected curses came back regardless, and the girls could only sit in exhausted silence.

  They had run all through the night in in an escape attempt only to be caught crossing one of the many rivers that wove through the kingdom. They were bruised and beaten.

  They leaned against the warm sandstone wall. Fatigue took them. They could have run. If only it were possible.

  The explosion of sound that woke the group was nearly enough to wake the entire kingdom as the castle shook. The girls came shakily to their feet to see the guards of many different Honorborn families fleeing the castle. The screams of the dying men and women and the rage of the rampaging king were the only sounds around them.

  Two bodies crashed through one of the many glass windows that lined the dining hall and the king emerged. The king landed on the broken windowsill, before looking down on the group of cowering girls. He cocked his head to one side, sneering menacingly.

  “Where is my daughter?” said the man softly. The girls made the mistake of looking to one another rather than answering immediately. The king repeated himself and every window in the dining hall shattered under the pressure of his shout.

  The blonde pointed toward the ocean, where she’d seen the kidnappers flee. The man nodded and lifted a hand that filled with blue flames as he looked at them. All the girls closed their eyes, expecting death, excluding the blonde. The girl’s fierce stare was the only thing that stopped the king from killing them in that moment.

  He lowered his hand and the flames disappeared. He looked back into the room toward the roof and scoffed. The blonde’s eyes flicked quickly to where the man had looked and she took initiative, speaking in potentially the last moment of her life.

  “Give me and these girls a chance and we will retrieve the flower while you… while you kill these traitors and bring home the princess,” said the leader of the ruse boys, coming to her feet as she spoke.

  The king’s eyes turned to slits as he analyzed the girl’s words through his building ferocity. He wanted to both kill everything before him, as well as protect the land he was born in. The land his father left him.

  Clouds darkened above him and the man’s grip on the frame he stood within cracked, threatening the wall’s integrity.

  The rest of the ruse boys came to their feet around their leader and grabbed their weapons. Not knowing if they were to face death or the demands of a deranged king, they braced themselves for the worst. The man looked at the blonde young leader and spoke one final time before launching into the sky in a single bound.

  “Fail me, and I will hang them. One by one. In front of you.”

  Unearthing Legacy

  Khalif was in a freefall. His eyes were closed as the clouds swirled around him. Even though he plummeted toward the ground at a speed that should cause alarm; he still found himself distracted.

  His younger brother had heard his commands, hadn’t he? Mental images of the boy crumpled on the ground in pain confused Khalif. Synapse was used to mentally communicate between the users of univers. Others could twist the ability to impart knowledge or obtain it forcefully. What Khalif was forced to do was something else with the skill entirely.

  The weaker an individual’s mind was, the easier it was to fall prey to mental suggestion or outright control. Khalif had given the boy the order to deal with the slave as he performed the ritual of power, only to see conflict appear on his younger brother’s face.

  Khalif had sold his brother many times in the past as part of the infiltration tactics taught to him by his older brother, even before Khalif himself had a name. The elder would sell the younger, and then have them report the necessary details back. This time was no different, or at least Khalif had believed so. The boy stood there, staring back at him until Khalif attempted to force the boy’s hand with univers.

  He repressed his state of shock while he watched his younger brother fall to the ground in pain. He had try to keep his composure in front of his confidants. The boy shivered on the ground as magic ripped through him. His brother couldn’t possibly have become attached to the slave in a day’s time, could he?

  He burst through the moisture of the cloud cover, soaring far above the land. Vassilious stretched below him like a circular continent broken into scattered puzzle pieces. His enhanced vision showed him the details of the river he shot toward. The river was nameless, cutting through the center of the innermost island. River chains spread through the sand, forming what looked like a tree across the island, its trunk letting out at sea.

  Khalif sped up, falling faster and faster toward the ship. Avery’s massive boat quickly filling his view. The vessel so large it barely fit within the river it rode upon.

  He landed on the boat as it wove through a piece of the scattered jungles throughout the islands. The ship was as large as some of the minor keeps he had infiltrated and ransacked; yet still the massive vessel dipped farther into the water as Khalif touched down on the deck. The crew and other Honorborn stepped back as he walked toward the captain’s rooms, staring.

  “Avery! Dara!” yelled Khalif. He walked steadily, passing the ship’s large columns and ventured underneath the upper level’s terrace. Gossip traveled across the deck. The allies confirmed to the ship’s captain their own plans for assaulting the kingdom. Khalif felt like spitting at such wasted extravagances. Then…

  “Hello, my lord, they are expecting you. This way.” Khalif’s attention turned toward one of the ship’s many attendants, smirking as Avery—the pirate lord’s—apparent first mate, bowed at him. Khalif made note of how the man put his hand over the black X emblazoned on the left side of his purple silk tunic. That X was the rune of friction frozen in place.

  “How the feeble distort us,” said Khalif as he lifted his hand to convey that he would follow. The young man squinted at the aspiring god and frowned before heading to the door that lead into Avery’s rooms.

  Khalif entered a familiar miniature hallway. Two doors were to either side of the hall, before the path opened into a large room. Khalif heard people speaking angrily, worrying over the failed attempt on Ochloc’s life.

  “If you would have just listened to me, we would not be here, Dara,” screamed Avery. Khalif slipped into the room unnoticed, allowing the gathered individuals to speak freely. He let the attendant go with a wave of his hand.

  Dara laughed. “You expect me to believe that one little relic would have given you the power to fight one of the old bloods?” Khalif watched as the woman stared Avery down, humor lingering on her face.

  “The relic was found floating in the middle of a monsoon as big as this kingdom, and once it was retrieved, the storm vanished as if the relic itself was the cause of the disruption,” said Avery. The room went silent at the mention of what they’d just heard. A relic powerful enough to cause a continental sized natural disaster was powerful, no matter who you were in the land of Vassilious—even if you were the son of a god.

  “Show it to me,” said Khalif from the corner. All gathered in the room appeared to be in a state of alarm. It took a moment for guards to settle and the lords and ladies who sat at Avery’s table to calm. Khalif approached the table slowly, seeing hands withdraw from weapons and magical fingers losing their lights.

  “I am not here to kill you, mortals,” said Khalif looking at Avery. K
halif pulled back his hood to reveal his face to the group. He only knew a few who gathered. The more revered individuals, other than Avery and Dara, included Carter, the volatile merchant king, and Ochloc’s son, Aemillious.

  “You’re the son of Volantes, aren’t you?” asked Aemillious. Khalif looked at the boy with a small smile before looking back at Avery.

  “What do you want, Thinker?” asked Avery as he looked over the dozen people at his table without meeting Khalif’s eyes.

  “I want an explanation for the old blood who attacked me with a weapon possessing the ability to devour univers. I want to know why a slave wears the relics of Fury, as if you mortals could be any more sacrilegious in your ways. I want to know what you dare hide from me now, Avery. Any other questions?” asked Khalif.

  The tension in the room rose. Though many of the men and women held their own powerful secrets, nearly none in the room could fathom what it was to be Khalif’s equal. The unease made some sweat—all except Aemillious and Carter, the older man staring, unamused, and the prince merely intrigued.

  “I’d also like to see the relic,” said Carter. His face was entirely covered by his hood. An apparent trademark for the merchant. His diamond emblem surrounded a skull in such a way that it appeared to be cloaked. Carter’s robes were a rich and silky blood red, the resulting image was that of a darkness risen, cloaked in blood and compelled to speak. Something about the man had always bothered Khalif, as well as the man in the blue cloak at his side. Both were unpredictable factors. Especially the man in blue. What was his purpose? He had the posture of an Honorborn, but the composure of a bodyguard.

  “No, that won’t be necessary, Sheathe,” said Carter. The man in blue took a step so slight, Khalif barely noticed the movement, wondering just how fast Carter’s pet truly was. More than a few members of the room shifted awkwardly, and Dara chuckled.

  Avery sighed, clearly agitated. “None of us knew anything about Ochloc’s new plaything. If we had, we would have slaughtered him at the earliest convenience. I would have assumed that the boy was one of Carter’s savages, had Carter himself not been as confused as I was to hear about Ochloc’s treasure.”

  “I’m unsure if he is one of mine or not. We are a… splintered group,” said Carter with a throaty laugh.

  “All of you supposed nobles are lost in your pampered ways,” spat Khalif. He looked around at the room. Everything draped in fine cloths, intertwined with fine jewels. Servants and slaves surrounded the Honorborn in a blanket of leisure, allowing for a dependency Khalif had long learned to take advantage of.

  “You, the son of a god who demands eternal servitude, dare speak on being pampered?” retorted Avery. The two men stood in the room staring each other down. Avery was known for his flamboyant ways but was only able to achieve such a level of notoriety and reputation by helping his father to cull the old bloods.

  “My father casts his children from the highest peak in the cloud kingdom when we meet the age of seven. Learning to swim and learning to fly are entirely different, but I guess that’s a difficult concept for those with the intellect of a crustacean to grasp,” said Khalif.

  “You think because you have your father’s favor you can walk within my walls and speak from a perch?” asked Avery. “Well, let me tell you, you little vulture, your heart may beat fast, but that is only indicative of your short life.” Avery was losing himself in the exchange.

  Khalif was far angrier than the naval captain, yet the flow of power trickled into Khalif’s direction. Everyone in the room grew scared as the children of the gods squabbled.

  “I don’t care about any of this, Avery, show me the relic.” Khalif spoke with a note of finality in his voice that gave Avery pause. He may have been speaking with a powerful man, but even powerful men were toys in the eyes of gods.

  Avery’s angry face twisted into a small smile. “It just so happens that I was prepared to show the item to my guests. You may accompany us if you would like.”

  Khalif was confused by the invitation, as well as the gesture. He was forced to compose himself in front of the Honorborn.

  “I’m sure it can’t be anything more than a simple storm totem left by one of our ancestors. I’ll know if it has any true power,” said Khalif. Avery looked over the room, giving a small “harrumph” before he rounded the table.

  “I’m sure you will.” The captain left the room followed by Khalif and the rest of the nobles. The group trod down a set of stairs tucked behind one of the doors Khalif had walked past.

  “How did you do it?”

  Khalif looked back to see Aemillious a few feet away, staring at him. Khalif suppressed a scoff. He hated being asked questions, especially ones brought on by the rumor mill of the noble courts.

  “Do what?” Khalif said. Aemillious continued rambling, but Khalif only half-listened while he analyzed the blue-robed man who walked just behind Carter. It took him a moment for Aemillious’s words to hit him.

  Khalif turned to face Aemillious. “Wait. What did you say?”

  “Oh, well I studied your tactics with your older brother, Khan, and was wondering how you got to the box. Nothing I find gives any details. We know you showed up at the gates of the Sky Kingdom with it in hand,” mused the young man. Khalif laughed. No one knew Khan’s name unless they’d met him, and even then, those who did know his name never spoke with the level of excitement that Aemillious had.

  “Well that’s because Khan had me kill everyone who was involved, or even knew what we had planned,” stated Khalif. Silence grew between them for a handful of breaths, before Aemillious spoke up again.

  “Everyone?” asked the young prince. Khalif nodded as they headed down a second set of stairs.

  “Did you not have allies accompany you? Even my father has allies,” started Aemillious, before he looked awkwardly at his aunt and Avery. Khalif caught the gesture and smirked.

  “Yes, I have allies. I would have even called them friends, if circumstances hadn’t forced my hand,” finished Khalif.

  Aemillious laughed, understanding the loss of kinship more than Khalif would ever believe. “My father killed my best friend. Said it would build character. I guess I’m just glad he didn’t make me do it myself.”

  They came to the bottom of the stairs and Avery led them into a dark room. At first, none gathered could see anything before their eyes adjusted. It was not until Khalif saw the relic that he felt the undoubted sensation of raw power wash over him.

  Everything with the magic of univers within gave off a vibration of power. The white gold chest plate with the House of the Fury’s symbol across its front, made Khalif feel as if his father were in the room and enraged.

  “I cannot even touch the thing since we pulled it from the storm. From what my Elementalists have told me, it’s waiting for something,” said Avery. At his swift gesture, his servants ran into the dark room, enlivening the dim wall sconces, filling the room with the white lights produced by univers-infused candles. The light revealed what seemed to be a thin dome of nearly translucent ice surrounding the armor.

  Avery threw a coin and it both froze and crumbled into shimmering golden snowflakes before hitting the ground. Khalif stared wordlessly alongside Aemillious. A glance in Carter’s direction, and Khalif would have noticed the old man’s reluctance to step closer.

  “You must take this back where you found it at once,” said Khalif, just above a whisper. The audience in the room shifted awkwardly. Khalif just stared, and, unlike the others, he knew what he was looking at. An armament worn by heaven’s fiend himself, Arkanous Fury.

  This item, along with every one of the god’s armor were forcibly sent to the corners of the realm hidden both high and low. The armor’s legacy fated to support the end of all things, beginning with heaven itself.

  “No Khalif, I will not,” said Avery, looking over his shoulder at the prince of the Sky Kingdom. “I have a kingdom to conquer and a war to fight.” He pointed at the chest piece, a twisted, wicked lo
ok saturating his eyes. “And that is what will enable me.”

  Sand Mountain

  Something was wrong. I had not opened my eyes, but I was moving. My last memory was of being on top of Vassilious Keep. I also remembered Lady Ezra.

  My eyes shot open to sand dunes whipping by at an alarming pace. The only times I had moved so fast was in the spinning room and maybe sliding down the giant tree outside Vassilious.

  My first reaction to waking up, in motion, was to sit up. Bad idea. I don't know if that is what all men do, but a simple mind does simple things.

  “Fury! What in the land of the Sand Sea are you doing?”

  I rolled off the shield I had found a few days prior as my upward momentum sent me sailing into the sand.

  The boy stopped the horse he rode and made his way back toward me so quickly he nearly ran straight into me, the horse rearing up as he stopped. He jumped off the animal.

  “You okay?” The boy jabbed a finger into my chest then followed it up with another, softer poke. I watched his finger make a small dent in my muscles. “Really? How has your gaping, open wound so quickly become a faded scar?” the boy said.

  He stopped poking me and ran off to grab the shield. He started explaining what he’d done the moment I looked at the rope harness he wore; the other end of the rope was tied to the shield.

  “Every time I put you on the back of the horse, it started to buck like crazy and I couldn't keep you on. So, I just made do with what I had.”

  The sun beamed down. The boy continued to analyze my every move, talking to me as if he needed to answer questions.

  “We have to go now, Fury. I don't know how far they've made it. If we don't get to Ezra before they sail off with her, we're dead.”

  I untied the rope and attached the shield to my arm. The straps linked on their own, another surprise from my new equipment. My mind became overwhelmed as the relic secured itself to me.