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

  His mad rambling was nothing new to Morita. She watched while he ran his hand along the scarred markings on his arm. Eyes crossed, he began to make a series of ticking sounds, bobbing his head up and down. He mumbled to himself while Morita watched, not daring to interfere with whatever internal conflict the madman was having.

  He stopped, then turned to look at her again, his eyes clear, focused. “He is not the one, and you and I are going to prove it. All the world will bear witness to the true Shantie Rhoe. Come with me.”

  Chapter 15

  Eric’s movements came slow, the weight of the world crushing him with each newly conquered step. He was tired. Tired of pushing on without understanding why. Weary of these trials that seemed only to want him dead. If they wanted him dead so badly, why not just do it already? Why play this drawn-out game? Why make him suffer so?

  Looking onward, he could see the third platform ahead. It was only a short distance away. I no longer care what’s waiting for me. Let these wretched trials be over with already. “You hear me?” he shouted up at the stone platform. “I don’t care anymore!” He found his steps quickening, carelessly stumbling up the uneven stone. “By the gods, I hope a hundred giants are waiting for me,” he muttered to himself. Tripping briefly, he banged his shin, nearly falling backward.

  But he wasn’t concerned about falling anymore. Racing up the steps recklessly, Wara’s words still tugged at his memory. The black stone peak has been climbed by only a few, none of which have ever returned. “They are at peace now,” he murmured. “Their spirits are with me now, and I am honored by their presence.” 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.

  He stopped just before reaching the platform. The subject’s strength, skill, and his love? What was that supposed to mean? The first trial had clearly been a test of strength. And only through blind rage and brutal aggressiveness had Eric bested the beast. Then there were those little creatures that couldn’t be touched physically. Only through the mastery of his powers had he been able to defeat them. Surely that was the test of skill. So what could possibly be left?

  Eric dashed up the remaining steps and hopped onto the platform. There appeared to be no trickery or deception here. No hidden doors or veiled faces hiding in the stone walls of the mountain. All he saw was an opening in the rock face. Mineralized water dripped from several stalactites, sending constant rings across the shallow puddles below.

  The immediate area illuminated when Eric unleashed his sword. Angry waves of fire pulsed down the red blade in time like a steady heartbeat. The flickering light caused shadows to dance about like wandering black spirits. “I’ve played your sick game long enough!” He raised his blade, pointing it directly into the shadowy hollow. “Show yourself, so you may join the others in eternal sleep.”

  A shadow stirred deep within the darkness. Just a hint of movement, much like seeing a bird flutter away from the corner of your eye. But when he looked directly at the spot where he thought it was, nothing moved. “Show yourself!” he roared. Lightning flashed overhead, followed by a slow, rolling thunder. “Once your head is impaled on the end of my blade, then this is over. Let’s get on with it!” A black outline reappeared in the darkness, drifting towards him ever so slowly. A dark, hooded figure. Covered from head to toe in flowing black, the specter looked like death itself. Slim hands reached up and drew back the black hood, exposing its face.

  Eric released the grip on his sword, his hand losing the strength required to hold it. It clanged to the stone floor, flames vanishing in a puff of smoke and ash. He stumbled backwards, knees turning to water, a ball of ice in his stomach spinning in place.

  “What’s wrong, Eric? Don’t you recognize me?” said...Jade.

  “No,” he mouthed silently, backing away further. He dropped down to one knee. “It’s not real. None of this is real.”

  * * *

  Jade, Kelus, and the members of the circle watched the events through the white pearl. Jade gasped, nearly falling backward. Kelus steadied her, placing a hand at the swell of her back. “What sort of black sorcery is this?” she growled.

  “I–I don’t know,” said Wara, sounding a bit shaken herself. “As far as we know, no one has ever gotten this far. I can’t be certain what the Mountain of Dreams’ motives are here.”

  Jade turned on her suddenly, causing her to flinch. “This madness ends now. You must send me in!”

  Wara quickly composed herself. “We can’t. He must complete the trials on his own.”

  “Do not interfere,” came the lifeless, shared voice of the twins. Their bald heads dipped to the side, then up again with a cracking sound. After glaring at them for a time, Jade moved back to the white pearl on the table. Like the others, she continued to watch in silence.

  * * *

  “Why do you turn away from me?” said Jade, moving closer. “I missed you so. All this time I’ve waited for you to return to me. And now that you’re here, you shun me, and act as if you hate me.”

  Eric refused to look at her, eyes locked on a stone at her feet. “Why this?” he moaned. “Why must you torture me so?”

  “Torture?” said Jade incredulously. “To see you once again brings me nothing but joy. It warms my heart that you are unharmed, yet the sight of me brings you torture?” He glanced up at her, his face twisted with pain. From her crystal blue eyes, to her full red lips, even the tiny dimple that formed on her left cheek when she smiled, the replica of Jade was perfect. Was it a replica? Could she really be here?

  She gazed down at him, warm smile unwavering. “Yes, I’m here,” she said, as if reading his thoughts. “And I’m never going to leave you again.” Moving in closer, she knelt down in front of him and gently held his wrist. She slowly moved his hand over to Spark. “Take your fine sword, and let’s leave this vile place. You and I are done here.”

  “But the trials...” His voice was weak; it was barely even a whisper. “I still need to— I haven’t—”

  “No, you don’t have to do anything more.” Her warm smile grew larger. “We’re finished here. You have nothing else to prove. Come home with me, and leave all this behind.” She gave his shoulder a light squeeze. “Don’t you understand? You’ve completed the trials, and no one will ever ask anything from you again.”

  Eric finally found the strength to get back to his feet. He stood, his blade clutched loosely between his fingers. “But this doesn’t make any sense,” he said, fatigue heavy in his voice. “If this wretched nightmare truly is over, then this is only the beginning. Someone must stop Krytoes. Someone has to—”

  “And somebody shall, my love.” She cupped his face gently in her soft hands. “But that somebody no longer needs to be you.” She wrapped her arms around Eric, embracing him in a warm hug, then whispered in his ear, “You’ve earned the right to come home. You and I can live in peace, build a house, then start a family. No more looking over our shoulders, wondering where the next threat might be coming from. No more danger. You’ve done your part, now let these burdens fall on someone else’s shoulders. Like I said, it’s time to go home. Doesn’t that sound wonderful?”

  Eric buried his face into her shoulder, tears dampening the soft fabric. “Of course it does,” he said, his voice gaining strength again. “I wish nothing more than to leave this place. To go back home and forget this black day.” He took a step back and looked into her eyes, those crystal blue orbs staring back at him. “But I can’t go home. I must push on until either my quest is complete, or it has taken my life.” Her eyes suddenly grew wide. “The Guardian would never let me abandon my duties. And not a single one of those words would have ever left Jade’s lips.”

  In one smooth movement, he slipped his blade into her stomach. The tip pushed through the other side, steaming and coated in a thick, black liquid. The entity stared at Eric, tha
t synthetic smile still intact. He gave his sword a twist, then yanked it back. The moment the blade slid free, black smoke began to filter from the wound. The smoke twisted and spun, funneling into the air like a dirty tornado.

  The imitation of life standing before him seemed to deflate, withering before his eyes. Its face crinkled inward, imploding, shrinking as its body dried up. Those crystal blue eyes pulled inward, leaving lifeless black holes. But that smile—that horrible, knowing grin—remained until the shriveled pile before him was too emaciated to recognize. He watched the flattened mass of black cloth steam and hiss. With the being no longer any threat, he turned his attention upward.

  Looking down at him were a series of faces lined up along the top of the mountain. Four, five, then nine. More approached what looked to be a manmade wooden rail bordering the top ledge. Heads shaved and generally middle age or older, they gazed down at him with curiosity. “Are you men the reason I’m here?” Eric called up. “So many have lost their lives to stand where I stand now. Did they all die in vain, for you?” No one answered him; they just continued to gaze down casually, as if watching the rain fall. Eric began to head towards the final set of steps that led up to the men. But after a few steps, he stopped. The air around him seemed to change. He gazed around suspiciously. Something was wrong.

  A line of yellow slashed the air in front of him, forcing him to leap back. It stretched downward, then opened into a shimmering golden hole. The man in white stepped through, Morita right behind him. Braced against his back, her hands ran circles around the man’s chest. She peeked over his shoulder at Eric, hissing like a snake, then melted down his back. Now on her knees, peeking out from behind his legs like a shy child, that long, forked tongue flapped around wildly.

  “The trials were never meant for the likes of you,” said the madman, his white hooded cloak flapping and waving in some unfelt wind. When the doorway snapped shut behind him, his clothing stopped moving, hood drooping low, covering his face. “How you ever got this far is beyond me, but it ends here.”

  “How dare you show your face here, coward?” Eric growled, raising his red blade, pointing it towards the madman. Brilliant red flames erupted as the sword came to life. Eric could feel its anger, feel its hatred. It hungered for this man’s blood. “You escaped me once before, and that’s a mistake I don’t plan to repeat.”

  The man in white reached back with both hands, slowly unsheathing twin swords from his back. The blades on each were jet-black, nearly invisible in the darkness. They were each shorter than Eric’s sword, but he moved them with skill and ease, spinning the blades in tight circles to either side.

  Suddenly, breaking out of the spins, he brought them up over his head. The blades crashed against each other as a jagged bolt of blue lightning crackled down from the sky. The man was bathed in light while lightning rode down the swords, and seemed to soak into his body. “My power has far surpassed yours, false god,” his voice boomed out like thunder. “You’ve stood in my way for the last time. It is time to finish this.”

  Eric whirled his own blade around in a sweeping circle, leaving a trail of fire and black ash. They rushed at each other, roaring like wild animals. From her knees, Morita whipped two daggers at Eric as he streaked across the platform. With a single slash, he shattered both daggers in mid-air, incinerating the metal into shards of glowing ash. A second later, the three blades collided in a spray of orange and blue sparks. Swords locked together, crackling with energy, the two stared into each other’s eyes, face to face.

  * * *

  Jade turned away from the pearl, unable to watch any longer. “That’s enough!” she said, strapping a green dy-chita across her forehead. “To hell with these trials, I’m going in.”

  “You will do no such thing!” barked Wara. “No one must interfere. He must complete the trials on his own.”

  “He’s already done that,” said Kelus calmly, always the voice of reason. “What more can he prove by dying at the hands of a madman? All I ask is that you consult with the spirits first. Do not make such a critical decision on your own.”

  Wara gazed at the little man, considering his words. After a time she nodded, then glanced at the twins. They nodded in turn, then tipped their heads back, eyes closed. After a few seconds had passed, their eyelids began to flutter rapidly. Faster and faster they blinked, the smacking sound reminiscent of a flock of bats. Suddenly, they stopped, eyes opening wide, shining a bright orange. “Violation!” they called in unison, heads cracking up, then down. “The Gate Keeper has been named. The trials are over.”

  They stood, faced each other, then pressed their hands together. As they backed away, a golden ring began to form between them, which turned into a shimmering golden doorway displaying the same image as the white pearl. They could see Eric battling for his life.

  Jade was already at a dead sprint towards the doorway when Wara whispered, “Go, Guardian. Aid the Gate Keeper.” With the fluid movement of a born killer, Jade launched herself off the table, gliding effortlessly through the air. The others watched in stunned silence as the assassin splashed through the doorway.

  * * *

  The men watched calmly while the battle took place down below. It was clear they weren’t going to take sides, even appearing disinterested. They were nothing more than spectators. But a distracting flash of golden light from behind caught their attention. They turned in dismay as the yellow portal ripped the air, tearing open a doorway, formed from nothing. Men dove left and right, scrambling to get out of the way when a black-robed figure burst from the light.

  Ignoring all in her path, murder in her eyes, the assassin sprinted straight ahead. Fast approaching the wooden rail, she transitioned smoothly into a series of handsprings. Flipping along faster than most can run, she planted her feet and sprung high into the air, turning slow circles as she drifted over the side. With a click, then a glimmer of steel, daggers flashed into each hand. With a flick of her wrist, still twisting circles in the air, she sent them streaking towards her redheaded target down below.

  Morita laughed wildly, hands gripping two more daggers to hurl at Eric. She was good, her aim perfect more often than not. But to this point, Eric had proved to be better. Over and over he had been forced to disengage from battle only to slash at Morita’s well-thrown daggers. He turned them to ash, then returned quickly to defend against the onslaught from the madman. The two were working well as a team. Eric was not sure how much longer he could fight both of them.

  Sensing danger, Morita looked up at the last second. With surgical precision, she deflected the oncoming blades using her own. With a clang they ricocheted harmlessly to either side. Jade drifted down from the sky, her flapping black cloak making her look like some sort of giant bat. Despite the long fall, she landed smoothly. Down on one knee with one hand braced against the stone, her head snapped up. Piercing blue eyes filled with rage locked onto Morita.

  A wicked grin split Morita’s face. “So the Gate Keeper has summoned his little pet. So be it. I would love nothing more than for him to watch you bleed like a stuck pig,” she glanced over at the two swordsmen exchanging blades with relentless savagery, blooms of sparks raining down with each thunderous clash, “but he’s a little preoccupied at the moment. No matter, I’ll be sure to bring him your head as proof of your demise.”

  Jade threw her wrists into the air and cold steel flashed up into her hands. Jagged lightning illuminated the sky behind her, making her hooded face disappear for an instant. With her daggers outstretched, face shrouded in darkness, she appeared to be the reaper himself. A second green bolt split the sky, lighting up Jade’s face for an instant. Morita took a step back. Raw, seething hate burned in those eyes. “It is not my head you need to worry about,” hissed Jade, the ice in her voice sending shivers down Morita’s spine. “Before I’m through, you will be begging for death.”

  With a flick, Jade sent a dagger zipping towards Morita’s face. She swiftly dodged the attack; a sheared lock of red hair
drifted to the ground like a dry leaf. Jade rushed in, a flash of silver reloading her empty palm. With the speed of a viper, she flurried into a five-strike combo, three slashes high, two low. With her own dazzling bladesmanship, Morita intercepted each blade with a high-pitched clang.

  Morita spun, leapt into the air, then brought down both her blades at the same time. Jade crossed her daggers, parrying the heavy attack at the last second. There was a thunderous clang and a bloom of orange sparks. Jade’s arms immediately went numb from the impact. This thing was far too strong. She needed to keep Morita on the defensive, or this fight would end quickly.

  Jade’s primal instincts kicked in as they had so many times before. Rarely had she ever been the strongest combatant, but she was always the most skilled, always the quickest. She unleashed an all-out frenzy of whirling steel. Her arms pumped with inhuman speed, sending rapid strikes from multiple angles.

  Morita’s eyes went wide with shock, her own skilled blades twirling about to intercept the vicious flurry. This human was the fastest thing she’d ever seen! Lines of red zipped across her chest and shoulders while more and more slashes seemed to be getting through. She twisted and turned her body at the last moment in order to protect her vitals, but she was still receiving a heavy amount of damage.

  * * *

  The man in white backed up the stone steps, blades working hard in defense while being pressed. Eric’s flaming blade spun in vicious circles, crashing again and again against black steel. The madman had been counting on Morita’s help, and was ill prepared to go toe to toe with the Gate Keeper alone. Despite having two swords against Eric’s one, he found himself constantly backing up. “There will be no glory in your death,” said the madman breathlessly. “Relinquish your title to me, and I just might spare you.”