The Legend of the Gate Keeper Anthology: The Shadow, Land of Shadows, Siege of Night, Lost Empire, Reborn, The Trials of Ashbarn, End of Days

by Jeff Gunzel

  The giant stabbed forward, a quick thrust that seemed to miss its target, but Azek grimaced as fire shot through his side. He stumbled back, bringing an abrupt halt to the exotic dance of blades. Arkare held his pose, sword arm extended, blood dripping from the razor-sharp fins riding up his sleeve. A deadly, efficient weapon, hidden in plain sight. A weapon Azek had forgotten to account for.

  The giant snaked in with sleek precision, weaving back and forth, flowing like black silk. His sword went high, the second as well. Azek blocked them both, his own blades crashing upward. In a surprise move, Arkare released his swords and dropped his body straight down. Azek recognized the tactic immediately, but could only watch helplessly as it unfolded. Committed to a high guard, engaged with swords that were nothing but a decoy, his body couldn’t react fast enough.

  The giant sunk his bladed arms deep into both legs. The searing pain was so immense, Azek dropped his swords and fell back, landing in a puddle with a splash. The giant loomed over the fallen warrior, his dead eyes gleaming with gratification. “So this is how the legacy of the Shadow will end,” he said, grinning as a flash of lightning lit up his face. “The world will never know you ever existed, yet my name will live on for eternity.”

  * * *

  The soldiers escorting Anna came around the corner. Seeing that something big had just transpired here, they moved even closer to her, determined to keep her safe until they could figure out what was going on. Their general was down on the ground, clearly wounded, with that young scout at his side. A giant of a man was hovering over a fallen one, sword raised and ready to drop a final blow. Everyone here seemed to be watching that, so naturally their gaze flowed that way.

  Anna’s drifting gaze suddenly became focused. She peeked through the human shield and saw the man to whom she owed all her pain. Searing hate and loathing rushed through her like a cold river. She snapped from her trance and surged against the surrounding soldiers with all her strength. The formation was designed to keep others out, but the soldiers didn’t expect any pressure to come from within. Stunned by the sudden push, several of them stumbled forward as the crazed woman broke free.

  Time ticked in slow motion, dripping like grains of sand. Anna ripped a dagger from a soldier’s side. Time sifting along, she roared a bloodcurdling shriek, heads slowly turning in her direction. Startled guards reached out to stop her. Winding back, she let loose the dagger with all her strength. It tumbled in slow motion, turning through the air. At the last possible moment, Arkare turned and snatched the dagger from the air, an inch from his forehead. He eyed it a moment, holding it out in front of his face, then glared at Anna, his own dead eyes filled with hate.

  There came a roar at his feet, then an explosion of pain shooting through his knee. He howled, stumbling back a few steps. Azek quickly crawled forward, closing the small distance and unleashing another elbow into the same knee. It crunched, twisting to the side in a grotesque manner. The giant toppled onto his back, writhing in pain. Enraged and bloodthirsty, the Shadow scrambled up the length of his body, pinning the giant’s shoulders down.

  He brought his head straight down, smashing the giant’s nose with a crushing blow. Then he brought it down again. Teeth cracked under the force, a few sticking to his forehead, the cuts immediately starting to bleed. Roaring with rage, blinded by animalistic fury, he smashed his head down again, then again, again... Soldiers and mercenaries alike turned away as the carnage continued, more than one getting sick.

  His face a mask of red, Azek continued the onslaught, roaring like an animal the whole time. After a short time, the small bones in Arkare’s face were no longer breaking. There was simply nothing left to break. It was all a fleshy pulp, similar to driving his head into a soft, wet pillow.

  “Get him off,” ordered Ninal, pointing to the massacre. It still took several soldiers to peel him away. It seemed he wanted to kill the corpse several more times. When he finally calmed, Azek looked down to his most recent kill. The corpse was unrecognizable. His face flattened, both eyes hung from their sockets, and nearly all his teeth were either along the ground, or embedded in Azek’s forehead.

  The Shadow dropped to his knees and stared at what he had done. Only now had he regained control. He heard the hiss of swords being drawn all around him, soldiers moving in, surrounding him. Such is the fate of a killer, he thought. It is time to pay for my crimes.

  * * *

  Wounded, surrounded by soldiers holding spears to this throat, Azek stayed down on his knees. He was resigned to any fate they had in store for him, most likely a trip back to Taron where he would be tried and hanged. All that was needed now was an accuser.

  Anna walked up to him, several soldiers surrounding her even though he couldn’t possibly pose any threat. “It’s alright, dear. You’re safe from him now,” said one of the men. Strangely, the general seemed to be a spectator in all this. He remained off to the side, quiet while getting his wounds wrapped. “Now then, dear, all you have to do is point to your abductor, and the rest will be left to us.”

  She hesitated, staring into his dark eyes. Azek looked up, weariness etched all over his face.

  They each seemed to be looking into the eyes of strangers. So much had changed since they first met. “Go on then, dear,” the man repeated, displaying some growing impatience. “It’s just a legal matter. You won’t ever see him again after this, I promise you. But you do have to point him out in front of these witnesses.”

  She raised a finger. “This...is not the man who abducted me,” she said softly. She was only half lying. He certainly was no longer the same man who captured her that fateful night, and she was not the same girl either.

  “Anna...er...Lady Drine,” the man quickly corrected himself. “Now, I know you’re frightened. But we cannot take him into custody unless you—”

  “I said he is not the man,” she repeated, more confidently this time. “The one you seek is already dead.” Again, only a partial lie.

  “Now look here—”

  “Did you not hear the lady?” Ninal interrupted sternly. He turned to the soldiers keeping him down. “You’re holding a free man. Release him.”

  At once, the spears rose away from his neck. He sighed heavily, then looked to Anna once more. Her eyes were clear and sharp. Together, they shared a private moment. This nightmare had ended for both of them, and all they could do now was go on with their lives.

  Epilogue

  Azek sat alone in the dusty quarters provided for him. He smoothed a hand over one of his freshly bandaged legs. It would be a day or two before he could travel again. It didn’t really matter, seeing as how he had no place to go. For now, he would just enjoy the peace and solitude. Reflect on what had transpired over these last few days.

  Visitors had been coming and going throughout the day. Some old friends, wishing him luck on the path he’d chosen, yet silently hoping he might stay. Others had came to see the legend, the man they had heard so much about. Those in particular he sent away, making an excuse about how exhausted he was. It was true enough. He hadn’t slept for a very long time, and could certainly use some rest to let his body heal. But the real reason he sent those young men away was because they idolized the man he used to be. A man he now despised. A man he swore he would never be again.

  So who am I, then? What is my reason for being? He found the thought unsettling as he lay down on the hard cot. When you’ve lived life a certain way for so long, how do you change overnight? Maybe I’ll buy a farm and grow some crops. The thought of trading in his swords for shovels made him laugh. In turn, the laugh made him wince in pain.

  There came a light knock, and the door creaked open. Without waiting for an answer, Anna walked in and closed the door behind her. She looked much better, Azek thought. The shock seemed to have worn off, and her blue eyes held a sort of glow. She was different now, no doubt about that.

  “We’ll be leaving tomorrow or possibly the day after, depending on how long it takes to get everyone ready
to ride,” she said, eyes set on an empty wood table. It was the only piece of furniture in this relatively empty room. “I’m more than ready to go back. I just want to see my family again.” Azek smiled and nodded. “And what will you do once you’re well enough to travel?” she asked. “What does a man like you do in the real world?”

  “Why didn’t you name me?” he asked, ignoring her questions. “You could have watched me hang. Would that not have pleased you?”

  Her eyes met his. There was no hate in her eyes, only a deep sadness. “There has been enough death already. Wouldn’t you agree? Besides, the man they would hang is not the same man who brought me here in the first place.” There was a long moment of silence while both of them considered how true that was for both of them. “So what will you do?” she repeated.

  “There’s always work for a bounty hunter, I suppose,” he replied with a shrug.

  “Perhaps that is something we should address,” came a voice from the doorway. Neither of them had heard Ninal enter the room. “Come with me,” he said to Azek. “I think a walk might do you some good.” Azek glanced at his wounded legs, a little unsure. “Oh, come now. If an old man like me is already back on his feet, surely you can crawl from that bed.”

  Azek nodded, then gingerly slid from the cot. He touched Anna on the knee as he limped past. “We’ll talk later,” he whispered with a wink. She smiled in return. The two soldiers walked out into the street.

  “So you’re the Shadow,” said Ninal, as if talking about the weather.

  “I was not named by any accuser,” Azek replied in the same nonchalant fashion. “You may call me anything you want, but there are no charges against me.”

  Ninal stopped and roared with laughter, followed by a fit of coughing. He winced and grabbed his shoulder, then continued walking gingerly. “Do you honestly believe we need Lady Drine’s or any other witness’s testimony to see the legendary killer hang? Why, if I brought your head back with me, Taron would probably name a holiday after me. I would be a legend in my own right.” Azek stopped, his hands instinctively reaching for swords that weren’t there. His mind began to race, searching for a way out of this. He was too injured to run. There must be some other way to... Ninal laughed again, reading the assassin’s face. “None of that is my intent. If I wanted you dead, it would already be done.” Azek relaxed...a little.

  “Once you’re able to travel again, where do you plan to go, Azek?” said the general. “Do you plan to buy a small cottage in a peaceful town somewhere high up in the mountains? Perhaps you are thinking of starting a family?”

  “I don’t know yet. Maybe. I don’t have any plan other than leaving this life behind,” Azek replied, irritated. Why is everyone suddenly so interested in my future plans?

  “Because if you are, then you might as well stay here and retake your former position.”

  “I would never—”

  “Oh, but you would,” Ninal interrupted. “How much time do you think will pass before the bloodlust returns? Dishing out justice to those who deserve it, and even those that don’t. Violence, brutality...murder, they are in your blood, and nothing you do or say will ever change that. If you think you can just walk away from it all, you’re a fool. You are nothing but an animal.” Azek held the man’s gaze, but said nothing. In his heart he knew he couldn’t deny a single word of it.

  “As am I,” Ninal added, raising his eyebrows. “The world needs monsters like us, to take care of the gruesome tasks that turn a common man’s stomach. We serve a purpose, but we as individuals have to decide who or what it is we fight for. Are we really so different, you and I? It’s the labels placed on us that make us seem so different in the eyes of the public. You take a life, it’s called murder, but if I do the same...it’s justice.”

  “The irony is not lost on me,” Azek replied, further annoyed. “It’s possible you’ve made as many widows as I have. Despite our actions being the same, you would receive fame and medals, while I would be hung. I don’t need a lesson on how the world works, old man.”

  “But you do need a purpose. A future. One that will allow you to live the only way you know how, yet be rewarded for your considerable skill. Join Taron’s army. Here, now. We need soldiers like you. There’s no telling how far up the ranks one such as you might ascend.”

  Azek’s head spun. Was this really happening? He never remembered saying yes or no, but the next few moments were a blur. Before he knew it he was down on one knee, Ninal’s sword touching each shoulder while he repeated an oath word for word. Even the words were a blur, as if someone else were saying them.

  He had faced certain death dozens of times, but now and only now...his whole body trembled. Despite his confused state, Azek had never felt so...alive. As the oath came to its end, he could only remember the last sentence as the words came from his mouth. “And I swear to defend the people of Taron...with my life.”

  A strong hand clasped his shoulder. “Rise, soldier.”

  Land of Shadows

  Geography and Culture of Tarmerria: An Introduction

  The land of Tarmerria is rather beautiful, if not wild and mostly unexplored. Oh, there are many different societies indeed, cultures that differ greatly from one town to the next.

  The business-oriented folk in Denark are always willing to sell goods or trade with anyone as long as fair compensation can be produced. These people are always on the lookout for outsiders that might not be as business-savvy, and thus easily taken advantage of.

  The rainy season in Denark is always quite violent, and has built a bit of a reputation for the town due to the extreme weather. Smoldering hot summers and bitter, cold winters are nothing new here. Throw in the occasional monsoon, and that is Denark as a whole. Not that many people call the average-sized town home. Sure, there are some locals, but it is mostly a trade town where folk come and go. You can get anything you need here as long as you have plenty of coin or something of value to trade.

  This is also one of the few towns in Tarmerria that does not have a large staff of militia on hand despite the large quantity of goods that could be gained by raiding the trade town. The main reason why Denark has little to worry about raiders is mostly due to its place in the delicate balance of Tarmerria’s economy. It would serve no purpose to sack Denark, since almost all the local towns and even some not-so-local cities benefit from having the supply town nearby. For one, they have no political allegiance to any of the larger cities. They have no friends or enemies on any side, and will trade with any government who can offer proper compensation. Cities often send couriers many miles with one or more wagons to stock up on goods that are hard to come by during the winter months, or even common goods that are simply cheaper to buy in large quantities from the trade town.

  Denark is not known for the high-quality goods that can be found in Athsmin, but you can usually get a better price, and the quality is fair enough. It is also a better town to buy grains and other food items, although most of those are imported from Bryer.

  The other reason has little to do with business. Denark is one of the only towns that finds criminals to be an inconvenience instead of a source of revenue, and disposes of them as fast as possible. Any individual caught stealing—or committing any crime, for that matter—is simply executed the same day. For small crimes, like petty theft or vandalism, the perpetrator will usually be strung up in front of the town and whipped by one of the guards. This seems to be an effective deterrent against crime.

  The tall barbarians from Dronin hail from way off to the west in the Apili Mountains, where it is cold more often than not and it is commonplace to wear thick furs as opposed to stylish clothing. The city itself is backed by the great mountain peak called Steris. There is only one major road that leads up to Dronin, but it is quite large, enough for ten wagons to ride side by side up until you get within a mile or so of the city. Then the road narrows significantly, again for defense purposes, so Dronin archers can pick off oncoming enemies.

  D
espite their military preparedness, the Dronin people are not especially hateful, or even aggressive. Instead, they believe that preparing for war all the time means it will never happen.

  To the north of Tarmerria lies the city of Taron. It spreads for miles in all directions and has plenty of political influence to go along with its sheer size and highly educated people.

  Taron is considered the largest and richest city in all of Tarmerria. The people are heavily taxed but consider the tradeoff worth it, considering the amount of funds needed for maintaining the safety of a large city. Wages are much higher to begin with due to the skill of the labor force. Blacksmiths, armorers, furriers, masons, roofers, even locksmiths all thrive here.

  One of the largest sources of income is Taron’s heavy participation in the games. The market is large for slavers, who buy and sell criminals from cities that simply look to turn a profit from someone who would be executed anyway. Slavers rent their “goods” to Taron to compete in the great arena called “Moxis.” Here, they charge per person at the door to watch the carnage.

  Many of the criminals and the poor souls who simply made the wrong people mad are given a set number of trials they would be forced to face. If that number can be reached, they win their freedom. This mockery of justice was never intended to add any fairness to the games, but is merely used as a psychological tool. It is widely accepted that most never get past the first two trials or so. But a person’s instinct to survive takes over, and they will try as hard as possible as long as it seems survival is a possibility. This seems to work well enough to give the paying mob a rather spirited contest.

  Tarmerria has plenty of culture, but remains wild in the sense that all towns and cities are independent of one another. Every town and city looks out for itself and rarely seeks aid from neighboring towns, and even more rarely provide it. That is not to say that it never happens, but it comes at a steep price. Aside from just being compensated for any aid provided, there is the perplexity of status being lost or gained.