The Forgotten King (Korin's Journal)

by Beam, Brian

  The apparition laughed again. “The crystals, of course.” It must’ve been speaking of the rocks.

  Before anyone else could speak, the apparition started expanding outwards, the smoke breaking into thick tendrils and spiraling into the air.

  “No! Come back here, you blighting murderous bastard!” Jefren screamed, charging at the dissipating smoke. It was too late, though. There was nothing left of the smoky apparition. Jefren let out another hoarse scream and dropped to his knees, his body shaking. Was he crying?

  You may have noticed that I just now used Jefren’s real name instead of my rebellious nickname for him. The emotion he’d displayed in that moment had truly affected me. This was a man who’d lost everything. Sure, he’d turned into a crazed lunatic, but the sincere, raw anguish displayed before me made me feel a measure of sympathy for him. I didn’t have to like him or agree with what he was doing, but I could allow myself to see him as Jefren, a once loving family man, instead of Eyebrows.

  “Blighted hell,” Briscott whispered beside me. “What was that?”

  I couldn’t answer him. Terror was ripping through my body. Had that apparition somehow been sent by Raijom? Was he the one using the rocks to control both the living and the dead? Would I even live through the night to ever know for sure?

  “Why didn’t you attack?” Briscott asked loudly, tearing through the silence that enveloped the camp.

  Kait’ spun to glare at him. “You think we didn’t try? Our weapons just passed through that thing.” She turned to Jefren. “We have to get moving before it comes back.”

  Jefren simply nodded, his head hanging. I pitied the man. He’d just been confronted with who—or what—he believed to be the reason for the death of his family. And he was powerless to do anything.

  “Okay, men,” Kait’ called, “get this camp packed as if your life depends on it, because in all reality, it just might.”

  The camp erupted into a flurry of activity as we loaded up the tents and supplies on the cart. Kait’ screamed out into the darkness to those on watch. Kevrin and Tagin came running from the trees back to the camp, joining us in our frantic action.

  Though my body acted against my will, my thoughts were fully under my control, and they were troubled, to say the least. Did Kait’ and Jefren really think we could just run from whoever had created the apparition? They’d already found us, most likely through the rocks. The rocks would still be with us when we left camp, continuing to act as a beacon. I had a feeling we were in a lot of trouble.

  The wind began to pick up, and a sense of wrongness suddenly permeated the air. Leaves swirled through eddying wind currents as if caught in a cyclone. The trees around the clearing swayed, their trunks groaning and cracking. My heart knocked against my chest as if trying to break free and run away. I’d experienced something like this before.

  We were definitely in a lot of trouble.

  Chapter 17

  Just Bill Me Later

  You know that split second of panic you have when you lose your balance and believe you’re about to fall? For instance, when you stumble over a rock or walk along a raised, narrow surface and a gust of wind hits you. Even if you’re able to regain your footing, that panic takes some time to wear off as your mind works to process the fact that you just about fell on your ass—something I happen to know a lot about.

  It’s the fear of not knowing what’s about to happen. Will you tumble to a death from a broken neck? Will you break your foot? Will you look like an idiot in front of an attractive woman?

  Right then I felt that stabbing panic, only there was nothing split second about it. I’d felt the sense of wrongness before, both when eldrhims were being summoned and in the presence of Prexwin, Raijom’s apprentice. It was a sensation caused by negative energy, and it was a perfect reason to panic

  Max had once explained to me the concept of negative energy, an energy used to power certain forms of dark magic. From what I can remember, negative energy is drawn from the purposely caused death of beings of intellect—humans, basically. A wizard can only draw negative energy from a body at the exact moment it dies by their hand.

  There were only three things I could think of that would possibly carry the feel of negative energy: Raijom, Prexwin, and the summoning of eldrhims. Negative energy lingers on those who use it, and Prexwin and Raijom, according to Max, had used more than their fair share of its dark power. At least one of those two evilly insane wizards had used it to open gateways to summon forth eldrhims to attack me.

  With the gusting wind currents tossing leaves around the camp, my best guess was that it was one of those cyclonic eldrhim gateways that was causing the sense of wrongness we all felt that night. It must’ve been opening nearby, if not right overtop us. After my last experience with an eldrhim summoning, I knew just what to do.

  “Jefren!” I screamed at the top of my lungs, trying to be heard over the wind and the sounds of our frenzied movements as we loaded the cart. Jefren, now standing, looked over to me. “We have to find the source of this wind, now! We’re about to have eldrhims for company. If we can locate the gateway they’re being summoned through, we can stop them before they have a chance to attack us!”

  The color drained from Jefren’s face. I couldn’t hear his voice, but I saw his mouth form the words, “What have I done?” This wasn’t the time for Jefren to have a self-realization. The men around me kept working per their orders, but their widened eyes focused on me. I turned my eyes pleadingly to Kait’.

  “Keep loading the cart!” she screamed. “Quit scaring the men with your childish nonsense.”

  I really wanted to come back with a quip about how Kait’ could accept the dead walking the land, yet eldrhims were out of the realm of possibility, but I held my tongue.

  While we continued to throw the remaining supplies onto the cart, Kait’ failed to stop mine and Til’s horses from bolting away in terror—negative energy has that effect on animals. Kait’ was unable to catch them and stalked back, cursing to herself. The other two horses, still hitched to the cart, struggled to break away, but the wheels were locked and kept them from escaping. Their terrified whinnies cut through the night as they thrashed against their harnesses. Twice we had to grab the sides of the cart to keep it from upending.

  Once the last of the camp supplies were loaded, I sped to Kait’s side. “Kait’, I’m serious. We have to—” A piercing two-toned screech sounded from somewhere behind me. Another undulated from the same direction. It was too late. The wind was calming, indicating that the eldrhim summoning was complete. If my feet could’ve moved at the same speed as my heart, I may have been able to outrun the Rizear-blooded creatures.

  Suddenly finding it hard to breathe, my blood like ice freezing my insides, I continued. “Kait’, those are eldrhims you’re hearing, and if we’re lucky, those are the only two. We have to stand our ground. They’ll be on us before we even get back to the road.”

  Kait’s eyes turned up to the darkness beyond the fire, towards where the horrifying sounds had come from. “Blight it all,” she murmured.

  I turned to look where Kait’ was staring. Nearly a dozen green circles glowed hazily in the dark of the woods. They were growing in intensity, obviously drawing nearer to the clearing. Some jerked erratically as they approached. The others, closer to our position by half, moved with a rhythmic bobbing motion. As they neared, the faint outlines of human bodies were revealed by the pale green glow emanating from their chests.

  “Men,” she growled, “Prepare to fight! When the attackers enter the firelight, you are to kill them.”

  Around me, swords were drawn. Briscott raised his bow, pulling an arrow from the quiver at his back. As the men formed a line, Kait’ approached, her hand thrust into the pocket that held her metal spheres. She didn’t look as if she had any plans to back down or run from the upcoming fight. I almost gained some respect for her. Well, at least compared to Jefren; he was nowhere to be seen.

  I moved to Br
iscott’s side, drawing my sword. “Briscott, you have to trust me—we’re going to have a couple of eldrhims to deal with on top of those approaching us now. They can be killed. I’ve seen it done. I’ve done it myself.”

  Briscott tilted his head towards me, his bow kept drawn and ready to loose its first arrow. “Korin, if not for some of the blighted things I’ve seen in recent months, I’d tell you that you’d blighting lost your blighted mind. I guess it doesn’t matter. Whatever’s out there, Loranis will see us through . . . or we’ll die. One of the two.”

  Strangely, I smiled through the fear, pain, and sheer panic coursing through my body. “Come on, now,” I told him, “I’ve been through worse and made it out okay.” At least, I assumed I had. Technically, I didn’t know how many eldrhims were out there or exactly what the green lights would entail. I’d never fought against the undead or slaves that would fight with reckless abandon because they had no other choice.

  Briscott chuckled. “If we live through this, drinks are on me.”

  “I’m going to hold you to that,” I replied, turning back to the woods as the first of our attackers reached the edge of the light. “And I’m going to put you out of a whole lot of money.”

  The first half dozen attackers appeared to be living humans. Five were men, all wearing simple clothes, the lights at their chests glowing strongly through the thin material covering them. They wielded swords of various types and physical conditions. The sixth attacker made my heart speed. It was a young woman, her long brown hair loose and flowing behind her. Her face held a mixture of fear and regret. She was wearing what appeared to be a wizard’s robe, the glow of her rock dimmed by its thickness. One of her hands was tucked inside a voluminous sleeve. The other was surrounded by a red glow, corroborating my assumption about her robe.

  As one, we charged our attackers. Briscott loosed an arrow, dropping one of the men. Inside I cringed, knowing that these were likely innocent victims of Raijom, or some other evil bastard. Still, I had my orders, and even if I hadn’t, I’d still be in a fight for my life. I could only assume that our attackers had orders to kill us, and therefore, this was a fight to the death. If I couldn’t fight my orders, all I could do was try to grant the enemy swift deaths and protect those on my side.

  We clashed with the remaining four men, the sounds of clanging swords echoing into the night. I deflected one man’s sword with my own, circling my blade back around to slice his leg. He dropped to the ground, screaming in pain. I thrust my sword down through his heart, ending his life. As he died, the light at his chest winked out.

  I was appalled by my actions. These were obviously not soldiers, just normal men who’d been swept up in an evil wizard’s plot. However, I couldn’t let my emotions distract me. Distraction would only get me killed, and after my dream, I knew I had to live.

  Two others fell to our swords, the green glow of their rocks extinguishing. The last was taken down by an arrow through his thigh. Vhillin and Oslen set to him with their swords, bringing his pained screams to an abrupt end.

  Just as I began to turn my attention to the sorceress, the night exploded in bright orange light. Two things happened during that brief second of illumination. First, the second set of attackers came into sight, sparking my panic anew. My eyes were taking in the living dead.

  The six undead creatures were in various stages of decay. One was nearly living in appearance, only its stiff gait betraying otherwise. Its fine noble’s suit was soiled with mud and other indiscernible stains. Another of the creatures was little more than a skeleton dressed in tattered rags. The others, all between these two extremes, were nauseatingly gruesome with tendons and rotting muscles visible through necrotic gaps in their sickly green-black skin. Dark holes lined with maggots were all that remained of what were once their eyes and noses. Where cheek muscles had decomposed, their mouths gaped unnaturally, just like the zombieish eldrhim I’d once fought. Two had patches of wiry hair on what was left of their discolored scalps.

  Their movements were rigid, jerking in abrupt motions that were wholly inhuman. Despite their undead state, they moved with a speed not far removed from that of the living. Rasping, guttural groans bubbled from their throats—all except for the near-skeletal undead, that is, its throat long since decayed past the point of the viability to make sound. Each carried two shortswords, one in each putrid hand. Even being several paces away, their rotted stench drifted to where I stood.

  I realized exactly why they’d been so difficult for Jefren and his men to defeat in Gualain. How do you kill something that’s already dead? I found myself wishing I’d asked Briscott that question long before.

  The second thing that happened in that moment of sudden brightness was that Tagin let out a cry of pure agony. Our attention was pulled to where he’d fallen to the ground, screaming, his body engulfed in the flames that had been the source of the flash of light in the first place. The flames extinguished as quickly as they’d appeared, leaving Tagin’s charred remains behind. The sorceress had claimed his life with some type of magic fire that I’d never seen before. I’d seen fire conjured by magic, but nothing that could incinerate a man in such a flash.

  Though the undead were closing on us, I started after the sorceress. I knew I had no chance against her alone, but unless we took her down first, she could simply pick us off one by one.

  I weaved through the fallen bodies of the first wave of attackers and lifted my sword, letting out a battle cry in the heat of the moment. The sorceress’s glistening eyes met mine. Her lips trembled beneath those watery eyes as she lifted her shaking hand, her palm facing me. She was so young, so frightened. As I neared, her hand began to glow. I wasn’t going to reach her in time. I was about to become a blackened, charred husk of Korin.

  Instinct took over and I lobbed my sword like a javelin towards the sorceress. With a simple wave of her hand, the sword was knocked aside by an unseen force, most likely a gust of wind. Her palm turned towards me again. I could see the beginnings of the fire that was going to end my life start to form before her hand. I was about to die.

  Just as I was about to close my eyes and accept my fate, I saw something glinting with firelight behind the sorceress. My sword lifted from where it had fallen and soared towards the sorceress. The blade stabbed through her face right between her eyes, and her body was flung backwards to the ground.

  Kait’ stepped into the light, her expression callous. I gave her a curt, appreciative nod and rushed forward to the sorceress’s body. Putting a boot against the dead sorceress’s forehead, I sickeningly wrenched my sword from her face. If not for the excitement of the battle pumping through me, I would have retched right then and there. Instead, I ran to join the others in their fight against the undead.

  The undead creatures were putting up a fierce fight, meeting our side’s swords with their own more adeptly than I could’ve ever imagined. Vhillin’s body lay motionless on the ground next to one of the undead monstrosities, the creature’s head lying a pace away. Briscott held both decaying forearms of one the undead creatures in his hands. It snapped at his face with jagged teeth, some kind of black liquid spilling out from its rotted lips. Briscott was barely keeping the creature’s swords and teeth from reaching him. Ullian and Oslen were back to back, each facing two of the undead, struggling to parry the flurry of swords before them. That meant that there should’ve been one more undead creature . . .

  I barely repelled the final undead’s sword as it swung down at me from the side. The creature let out a rasping growl, the acrid stench of rot wafting warmly over me. I pushed its blade away with my own and barely jumped back quickly enough to dodge a follow-up slash from its second blade. The creature was heavily decayed, with only small patches of skin and muscle covering its skull. Through a rip in its tattered shirt, its ribs were visible, a thin layer of blackened tissue connecting them. The rock in its sternum was open to the air, fully illuminating its horrifying, rotted face in pale green light. Between the intensity of
the moment and my command to fight, though, I had no time to feel fear.

  The undead creature came at me wildly, its swords swiping with a flood of rigid motions, its stiff legs stumbling forward as it attacked. With my focus fully invested on parrying its attacks, I couldn’t find an opening to counterattack. For that matter, I wasn’t even sure what I could do to hurt it anyway. The creature lying decapitated beside Vhillin hadn’t been moving, so I assumed that beheading it would probably be my best bet. With how it was bombarding me with its two-sword attack, however, I couldn’t find an opening to do so.

  I retreated from the creature’s swords and doubled back for a surprise rear-attack, realizing that I could move faster on my feet than it could. The undead creature’s head followed my movements as I darted around to its back, turning in a complete, bone-cracking circle. When I swung my sword, its arms jerked backwards in their sockets and knocked aside my attack. How in Rizear’s domain had it even been able to see me with those gaping eye sockets, let alone block my attack? Stupid undead.

  As I reevaluated my attack plan, the two-toned and undulating screeches sounded again from nearby. In my periphery, I could see two shadows entering the light of the camp, one of them massive. This was not good.

  I began to parry the undead creature’s attacks, its backward-rotated arms not putting much of a damper on its ability to keep me from striking it. Behind me, I heard screams from the other men, screams that cut off too suddenly. Our side was falling to the enemy, and I couldn’t do a thing to help, stuck fighting the macabre creature before me.

  The undead creature started in for another attack, but suddenly, one sword wrenched from its sinewy hand, flinging out into the night. The second sword, staying firmly grasped in its other hand, ripped away as well, taking the creatures decayed arm with it.

  “Korin, kill that thing right now and get over here!” Kait’ screamed from behind me. She’d apparently saved me with her magic.