by Jeff Gunzel
“It won’t be long before I’ve fully gained their trust,” she said to Brinkton’s head, propped up beside her. She reached behind it, gently rocking it up and down. “My, you seem very agreeable this morning. But I must say, Brinkton, I’m not sure I believe you.” She stood, still looking at him. “You’re the one who convinced me not to kill Shantis, remember?” she hissed, pointing an accusing finger. “I now see what your plan was the whole time. I would have her head instead of yours if you hadn’t betrayed me. But you did...didn’t you?” She moved closer to his head. “Didn’t you?” she repeated in a whisper.
She slowly backed away, running her fingers through her wild, white hair. Filista then gave her head a shake, sending red ribbons bouncing about. “You think you’re so clever, tricking me into trusting you, having me believe you were on my side. Then when I let my guard down, you allowed her to escape.” She cocked her head sideways like a dog, curling a single lock of hair around her finger. “Well, look at you now. This is the fate of those who betray me. You’ve bought her a little time. That’s all. And at the cost of your own life, no less. Tell me, traitor, was it worth it?”
She could hear people rustling about outside. The low mumble of conversation grew as more people came. “Do you hear that?” She patiently watched Brinkton’s head for a bit as if waiting for a response. “Those are my people. They’re at my doorstep simply because I’ve summoned them. They want to be controlled. They need a feeling of purpose, and I’m about to give that to them. Make no mistake, Brinkton, after today, there is no turning back.” She flicked Brinkton’s head, sending it tumbling to the floor.
Strangely, that bizarre conversation made her feel better. Maybe it was because he had succeeded in tricking her, and there was nothing she could do about it now. He was already dead; a price he had obviously been willing to pay right from the beginning. There was nothing more she could do to him now. But getting the last word was a minor relief, somehow. She always needed to be right, and saying the words out loud, even when no one could hear her, went a long way.
Rejuvenated, she marched over to the door and threw it open. Heads turned and mouths closed when she made her entrance. There was something about her this morning. She looked strong, authoritative, and even more confident than usual.
She wasted no time. “Brothers and sisters,” she shouted. “Can you feel it this morning?” She clenched her fists and held them high. “The winds of change are blowing through the trees. A new era has begun, and the time is now. When I look around and see your faces, I see pain. I see oppressed people who have been forced to hide like animals. You have been accused of being monsters who should be caged, to be put on display for the world to scorn. Well, I don’t see monsters standing before me. I see the dominant people of this world. I see superiority, and we plan to prove it!”
Crytons who were quiet a moment ago now cheered, waving fists in the air. Spears pumped up and down, lost in the boisterous energy.
“Our former High Priestess lost her way. Had she remained a figure of influence, we would all have stayed hidden from the world forever. Cowardly and weak-minded she was. Easily tricked by the humans. But I say no more! Our glorious leader once held secret meetings with these vile beings, and yet told no one.” A hissing sound rose from the crowd. Filista waved her hands in dismissal, then held a finger to her lips to quiet the mob. “Yes, yes, she was their lap dog for some time. Fed them information about our people. In particular, she held these secret conferences with the queen of Taron, Ilirra Marosia!”
More jeers rose from the crowd. All here were aware of the shaky alliance Shantis had with Taron’s queen, but this was the first they had heard of these secret meetings.
“That’s correct! She used and manipulated Shantis like a puppet. Our trusted High Priestess, in turn, used you all to gain acceptance from these rodents. But I...say...no...more!”
The cheers were deafening. She had to scream to be heard. “In order to bring down a great serpent, you must cut off its head. And that’s what we’re going to do! It’s time to take our rightful place in this world. It’s time to hit the humans where they least expect it. We must...cut off...the head! Brothers and sisters, it is time. We will show the world who we really are. It’s time...we march...on Taron!”
Chapter 8
Berkeni lay on his worn brown hammock, surrounded by his modest possessions, mostly low-quality furniture, personal belongings, and his magical sphere that sat in a silver cup-shaped holder. Multiple times he had been asked, nearly begged, to accept the Queen’s offerings of more modern furniture and art. To give the old blue room a more acceptable look and feel. He had politely refused so often, they had long since stopped asking.
Possessions such as fine clothes or jewelry meant little to Berkeni. He found this sort of lifestyle to be trivial and shallow. What good were fine paintings or expensive shoes in the grand scheme of the direction the world was headed? Death comes for us all eventually. Death does not discriminate the rich from the poor, nor could it be dissuaded by a fine silk shirt.
Regardless of its emptiness, he found his room to be quite comfortable. But unfortunately, he found himself spending less and less time here these days. Even now, he felt guilty lying here, even though he had not slept properly in quite a long time. I’ve no time for this pampering. There is still much to do. Does Krytoes ever rest? Exhausted, yet determined, he sat up and rolled from the hammock.
He had only been in his small clothes for an hour or so. An hour too long, he thought. Berkeni quickly threw on a loose-fitting brown shirt with large black buttons riding down the front, and an even looser-fitting pair of gray pants. Grabbing his white pearl, he headed out the door.
Of course, everyone in the palace recognized the Queen’s aide. Servants lowered their heads when he walked by—some even bowed. He had long become used to the overly reverent treatment. It was unnecessary conduct by his estimation, but not something that was going to stop anytime soon. For many, he at least acknowledged the overly zealous greetings with a nod or a smile, but now he hardly noticed anymore. Things were different now, his mind constantly preoccupied with the Queen and her burdens. If he was under this much pressure, surely her stress was nearly unbearable.
Moving through the halls, Berkeni thought about the day the Gate Keeper killed Dragot. Not only had he taken the beast’s head, but a great deal of Taron had watched the battle take place. Berkeni wanted the whole city to see exactly who Eric was and what he was capable of. Sending his magical sphere into the air, it had exploded against the sky, projecting the entire battle so everyone could see. Had that been a mistake? Perhaps the people were not ready for that?
He did what he thought was best at the time. Both the crytons and the people of Taron needed to understand that Eric was no false god, as some had proclaimed. But he was very dangerous, a force for good who needed to be recognized and acknowledged for what he stood for. Things had not turned out the way Berkeni had hoped...
Much of the city was now segregated into two camps: Those who chose to follow the Gate Keeper, and those who believed the whole spectacle was nothing more than some magical illusion, some sort of deception made to trick the people into believing this supernatural being was real. And unfortunately, the latter seemed to be the majority. Instead of helping, it seemed Berkeni’s actions had made things much harder on the Queen. There were protests in the streets, day and night. Petitions wanting Queen Ilirra Marosia to relinquish her authority circulated through every bar and tavern. These documents had many signatures already, and were gaining more by the day.
Reaching Addel’s private chambers, he gave a light rap on the door. After a moment, the door creaked open just enough for Addel to peek at him through the slit, looking annoyed. “I thought you needed a break?” she said. With her eye red and puffy, she looked like she could use one herself.
Berkeni sighed. “The evils threatening our world don’t rest. Why should I deserve a break?”
“Because you�
��re no good to anyone if you’re dead,” she blurted out, then smiled. “Well, since you’re already here.” She opened the door and let him in.
“What have I missed during my extended absence?” said Berkeni, trying to suppress his own grin.
“Have I learned anything new in the last hour? Um...no, I haven’t. Perhaps if you got out of my hair a little more often, I would make better progress.” She winked at him, then moved back towards her own magical sphere.
Berkeni looked at her, marveling at how different this woman had become, both mentally and physically, since joining them. Her white hair was filled with red beads, tied back in a yellow ribbon. As always, she wore her black and gold eye patch with silver lining. Her light blue silk dress flowed down to her feet, just long enough to rest on top of her white shoes. Looking the part of a beautiful woman had gone a long way to making her feel like one.
“Admit it, Addel. You simply can’t function without me around.” He looked around her room. It was much finer than his. Bright green walls had black swirling designs carved directly into the wood. There were two large tables; one held her pearl on a golden stand in the likeness of a human hand. Eight sturdy handcrafted chairs provided seating. A large green rocking chair with an extra plush seat, and several white shelves filled with personal belongings, completed the set of furniture. It would seem her adjustment to living in the palace had been an easy one.
“Then perhaps you should leave again, and we will test your theory,” she said smugly, already seated again in front of her milky pearl. Addel had proven to be a more than capable assistant. Berkeni hated to admit it, but her work ethic seemed to exceed his own. Here she sat, day and night, scrying on the possible entry points Krytoes might use. It was a tireless job. They shifted constantly, day after day. The best she could do was narrow them down to general locations.
The wise man decided to say no more. Only a fool would continue to test this stubborn woman’s limits. Better to flick the snout of an alligator and see how long it takes to enrage him. Berkeni pulled up a chair near the second table, then placed down his silver holder and shiny sphere. It was his turn to do a share of the work.
However, his self-given duties were a bit different than Addel’s. Though both were skilled mystics, their strengths were different. Berkeni worked the perimeter of Taron, studying the surrounding towns and cities, watching for any suspicious movements on their part. He wasn’t spying, exactly...only looking out for Taron’s best interests during a time of unrest. It was better to be aware of the movements of your neighbors, rather than be caught off guard. It won’t always be like this. Things will settle down eventually, Berkeni thought. At least, that’s what he hoped.
Addel had a very special talent. She had a special understanding of these “entry points” scattered around the world. They shifted and moved regularly, making them hard to keep track of. But Addel was as good as anyone at finding and studying them. Krytoes would have to use one eventually to enter their realm. She was in charge of figuring out exactly which one would allow him entrance, and where it would happen—a task only a few in the world were capable of.
“Have you heard any word?” Addel asked, still keeping all her attention on her pearl. There was no reason to be any more specific. Berkeni knew who she meant.
“I have not heard from Jade in some time now. I can only assume everything is all right. It’s a shame she lost the ring I gave her. Otherwise, I would contact her myself. As it stands now, I must wait for her to form the link.”
Jade had discovered a way to make contact with Berkeni without using the ring. It turned out she had abilities no one was aware of. The native group she had fallen in with had shown her how to tap into these mystic talents. They taught her a way to form a mental link with Berkeni. But unfortunately, the link could only be formed by Jade. Berkeni had no understanding of this sort of “nature’s magic.”
Addel removed her hands from her sphere. The milky white swirls immediately began to disappear. “I still find it hard to believe,” she said, looking at Berkeni with a smile. “Jade has proved to be something rather special, has she not? All this time and nobody knew what she was capable of. Dare I say she might surpass the great Berkeni Ajal someday?”
Berkeni smiled. His eyes appeared weary as he stared into his pearl. “I hope so,” he replied softly.
“What was that, old man? You’ll have to speak up a bit.”
Berkeni let out a deep breath. “I said I hope so,” he repeated, louder this time. Addel’s smile began to fade, sensing a more serious tone here. “I’m tired, Addel.” He paused a moment, then looked at her directly. “I made an oath to serve the Queen, and by the gods I plan to honor that promise. But...” Addel listened intently as he continued. “I’m old, and with every passing year I’m reminded constantly that I’m not getting any younger. I love Ilirra, but I cannot assist her forever. The day will come when someone needs to take my place.”
Addel moved up behind him and began to rub his shoulders. “I’m old too, you know. Nothing in this world lasts forever, we both know that. But I want you to make me a promise.” Still staring into the globe, he nodded slightly. “I need you to hang in there as long as I do. When the war is over, and the Gate Keeper has sent that demon’s twisted soul back into the black fires that created him, you and I may finally be at peace. Can you do that much for me?” Berkeni didn’t respond. She gave his shoulders a little shake and leaned into his ear. “Have you heard a single word I’ve said? Berkeni? Are you alright?”
“By the gods.” The words came out as a choked whisper as his hands began to tremble.
“What?! What do you see?” Addel placed her hands on the globe, fingers pressed just above his. It didn’t take long for her to see what he saw. She gasped. Addel backed away, placing a hand to her chest. Her panicked breaths were coming in heavy heaves. “I–I don’t know what to... What-What do we tell the Queen?”
Berkeni pushed his chair back and stood up, his face stony and focused. “We tell her the truth. The crytons...have betrayed us.”
* * *
“I don’t understand any of this,” said Jade, flustered. “I am sworn to protect the Gate Keeper. This is my first and only responsibility. Now you’re telling me I have to step away from my only purpose?”
“I wish there was some other way, Jade. But it really is not that simple,” said Kelus, equally as tense. “The Shantie Rhoe must walk this road alone, lest he be in violation through the eyes of the spirits.”
Eric sat by himself, patiently watching the two of them go back and forth. Eric just shook his head. He loved Jade so much it hurt. But he could see that her love for him made her blind sometimes. An entire civilization wasn’t going to change the rules of its most ancient ritual just because some outsider wished it so. Doing his best to block them out, he concentrated on the words spoken to him by Wara.
At dawn, we will open a portal to the foot of Mt. Vendroth, also known as the Mountain of Dreams. The black stone peak has been climbed by only a few, none of which have ever returned. It is said that when the Shantie Rhoe comes, he will ascend the Mountain of Dreams and make himself known to the world. There have been many over the centuries who thought they were the chosen ones. Needless to say, their bodies are still up there.
As you can imagine, the stories passed down from generation to generation eventually become vague and diluted. But one part has remained intact throughout the centuries: The trials will test the subject’s strength, skill, and his love. Only then will he be named. Little more is known on the subject.
It is said when the Shantie Rhoe is named, the skies will be bathed in light. The Mountain of Dreams will drop its veil, presenting its true form to the world once and for all. How much of this is true? Only the gods know for sure. But we do know this much: Time is running short, and you are our last hope.
Eric let her words sink in. He wasn’t afraid. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been afraid of anything. Death was always consider
ed the worst outcome of any situation, and he had already accepted that probability long ago. Once you’ve already embraced death, what can possibly cause fear?
“You don’t understand, Jade,” said Kelus, his voice somber. “Eric has been marked by the Crimson Empire.”
“He’s marked by everyone!” Jade protested. “What does that have to do with—”
“The Crimson Empire,” Kelus interrupted, “is the most powerful kingdom in all of Shangti. The Takeri Clan is nothing but a small tribe. There are dozens of other clans just like us. Yes, we war against one another for any number of foolish reasons, territory and power being among the most prevalent. But we are nothing, tiny glitches on the map, compared to the great kingdoms of Shangti. And amongst them, the Crimson Empire has no equal.”
Jade swallowed hard, the lump in her throat the size of a fist. “What can we do? If they try to hurt Eric again, I’ll—”
“You’ll what? Seek revenge on the entire kingdom? Storm the Crimson Empire’s city by yourself? Well then, I bid you good luck.”
Jade wilted, feeling foolish for allowing her anger to cloud her judgment. Again, she was reminded of how far from home she really was. She was a foreigner and knew nothing of this strange land. This one small village was no indication of what lay beyond its meager boarders. She of all people knew better than this.
“Then what is our next step?” she mumbled, head low.
Kelus reached out and held her hands. His eyes softened when she looked at him. “We’re doing the only thing we can,” he said, giving her hands a squeeze. “The Crimson Empire sent those assassins to kill Eric. They obviously paid a large amount of gold, so this proves they are serious. Yet only a fool would try to kill the only man who has the power to save our world, so that leaves me with only one conclusion: They believe he is not the real Shantie Rhoe.” He paused a moment, running a hand across his bald head.