The Forgotten King (Korin's Journal)

by Beam, Brian

  Lyrak’s body was gone. A trail of blood was smeared across the floor from where I’d viciously taken his life to the darkness edging the room. My stomach turned. If I could lose control of myself so fully, was anyone safe around me?

  And then I remembered why I’d lost control in the first place. With a sharp breath, I looked towards the room’s entrance. I saw nothing but darkness.

  I lifted Sal’s chin, bringing her teary eyes up to mine. I swallowed, having to force out my next word. “Til’?”

  Sal’ threw her arms around me, weeping with a furious intensity.

  I shut my eyes against the agony of her response, my breathing reduced to shuddering gasps. “Where?”

  Sal’ leaned back and pointed towards a darkened corner of the room. “We . . . we thought it best to move him from where he . . .” Sal’ broke into another fit of heaving sobs.

  Taking my arm from around Sal’, I stood with minimal pain. I’d apparently been healed, but my leg was still stiff to the point of discomfort.

  “Korin, wait,” Sal’ protested through her tears, standing to join me. She showed no indication of having had an arrow shot through her leg. “Please don’t do this alone.”

  I nodded, staring into Sal’s glistening blue eyes. I clasped her hand and took a step, almost dropping to the floor as my leg seized. Sal’ helped steady me as I regained my balance with a grimace.

  “As badly as your leg was injured, it may take some time for everything to work properly again,” Sal’ explained softly.

  “I’ll be okay,” I insisted. I started forward again with a slight limp, but I kept to my feet.

  “Korin,” Max called, bringing me to a halt. “Are you sure you are all right?” The tone of his words hinted at something deeper than just my physical state.

  “I think so,” I answered numbly. Will I ever truly be all right again? I thought.

  “We were worried that you were not coming back to us,” Max added gravely. His glassy eyes glimmered in the soft light of the room.

  I turned to Sal’, raising my eyebrows in question.

  Sal’ bit her lower lip and closed her eyes, putting a slender hand to my chest. “Even after we healed you, you wouldn’t awaken. We couldn’t find anything wrong with your body.” Her red-rimmed eyes opened, and her hand rose to rest on my cheek. “We were scared that something had happened to your mind, something that we couldn’t fix. It’s been hours since you blacked out.”

  I took a deep breath to calm my nerves. “I’m okay,” I assured them. “I’m okay,” I repeated, more for myself than anything.

  I wasn’t.

  I’d completely lost myself to my anger. I’d fallen unconscious, and not even three powerful wizards had been able to wake me. Something was wrong with me—very wrong. However, I had too many other concerns to let myself dwell on it yet.

  Sal’s chin began to quiver. I lifted my hand to cover hers, noticing mine had been cleaned of Lyrak’s blood. A quick glance down revealed that my leather armor hadn’t. My stomach twisted again.

  Ithan and Briscott stepped over to join Sal’ and me. Both looked weary to the point of collapse, but still they stood, resolve radiating from their eyes. Ithan held the lighted orb that had been on the table, its glow highlighting his sunken, tired eyes. Briscott carried Max in his arms, a sure sign that Max had pushed himself too hard.

  My heart flared with love and compassion for each of them. I intertwined my fingers with Sal’s and pulled her hand from my face, giving her an appreciative nod. Then, with a deep breath, I turned towards where Til’s body lay.

  Rocks crunched beneath my feet as I limped forward. After a few steps, the ball of light in Ithan’s hand illuminated a blanket-covered body. Til’s body. I stopped, finding it difficult to summon the resolve to face the greatest loss I’d ever experienced. Swallowing back my dread, I released Sal’s hand and went down to my knees. Sal’ knelt beside me, sliding her arm around my shoulders.

  Delicately grabbing the edges of the blanket, I uncovered Til’s head. His pale face held a look of peace, despite being covered with multiple scrapes and bruises. His hair was tucked behind his pointed ears. I wanted to believe that he was only sleeping, that he would wake up if I simply gave him a quick shake. But I knew the truth. I knew what I’d see if I pulled the blanket back any further.

  Grief slammed into me like an avalanche. I longed to hear another of Til’s rambling tirades, to see his childish expression of innocence, to once again experience the compassion he’d held for all life. Til’ wasn’t supposed to be dead. Til’ was supposed to be smiling. Laughing. Living.

  And I hadn’t even had the chance to say goodbye.

  My anguish was too much to bear. I threw myself across Til’s body, lifting his head against my chest. “No, no, no. Til’, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” I began to sob uncontrollably, running my hand through his hair. “You were supposed to live. You were supposed to go home. It’s my fault. It’s all my fault!”

  Sal’s arm tightened around me. “Korin, don’t do this. This wasn’t your fault.”

  “Til’ sacrificed himself to save us all, Korin,” Max added solemnly. “It was his choice. Had he chosen differently, we would all be dead. He chose the lives of many over the life of one.”

  Deep down, I knew Max and Sal’ spoke the truth, but my emotions overwhelmed any sense of rationality. I clutched Til’s body, rocking back and forth, praying to every god I’d never believed in to watch over his soul. I prayed to Vesteir to keep his soul strong. I prayed to Ghalen to see his soul safely to the afterlife. I prayed to Ambryn, the god of sacrifice, to honor his soul with the reverence due to a hero. And I prayed to Loranis, to the god who’d given his life to protect those he loved just as Til’ had.

  Briscott knelt beside me, placing Max on his shoulder before gently relieving Til’ from my grasp. He pulled the blanket back over Til’s face, lending a finality to the Kolarin’s death that twisted my gut and clawed my heart. Sal’ wrapped her arms around me once more, joining me in weeping for our loss.

  Briscott patted my back. “He’s in Loranis’s loving embrace now.”

  No, I thought, Loranis is dead, his life sacrificed to protect this world from Rizear. For Briscott’s sake, I kept the thought to myself and nodded gratefully, wiping away my tears.

  Max cleared his throat. “Korin, I know you are hurting—we all are—but we have bigger concerns at the moment.”

  Another bout of rage began to boil within me at the thought that Max could find anything to be more important than Til’s death. However, looking into his eyes, seeing the weariness and sorrow weighing them down, my anger ebbed. Max was hurting, too. He wouldn’t have made such a statement lightly.

  I held Sal’ close, hoping that her presence would distract me from the anger bubbling inside me and soften the blow of what Max had to say. “Tell me, Max.”

  Chapter 57

  A “Little” Problem

  Max let out a deep breath, his tiny whiskers quivering. “Just before you went unconscious, a man appeared through a silver light, the same as what brought you and me to Amirand over twenty years ago. We attempted to get information from him, but he obviously had an order to end his own life if captured, likely by using a strong poison or a spelled object that prevented us from healing him. He died before we could question him.”

  “That must’ve been Raijom’s emissary,” I explained, struggling to remain composed. I couldn’t believe a doorway to Paigea had been so close. “Lyrak told me that Raijom was sending someone to speak with him.”

  Max cocked his head to the side. He wasn’t the only one in the room who looked confused. None of the others knew that the man I’d killed had in truth been Lyrak Es’Tal.

  Max began speaking before I could explain. “Salmaea saw magic radiating from a bracelet that the man was wearing. I believe that the bracelet may hold the power to open a return portal to Paigea, though since the spell infused within it is unfamiliar to Salmaea, we do not yet know for
sure. It seems to have lost its power upon the man’s death, likely a failsafe set by Raijom.”

  “So we can’t use it then,” I noted solemnly.

  “Not necessarily,” Max countered. “Thanks to Salmaea’s ability, we have been able to determine that a portion of the spell has simply been altered. If Salmaea can determine in what way it has been altered, we may be able to reactivate it.”

  “Won’t Raijom be able to locate us as long as we have it?”

  Ithan gestured to the table. The abelyr box we’d kept the Soul Crystal in rested on its surface. I hadn’t even realized that anyone had packed it for our flight to Bherin, but given that the Soul Crystal had helped defeat Lyrak, I was immeasurably glad they had.

  “It is safe until we are ready to use it,” Ithan said. “Whether Raijom will know if his messenger has died or not, however, we do not know.”

  Max sighed. “We can only pray he does not. We have enough to worry about already. Korin, we believe we can make the bracelet work again, but we have a little problem we must resolve first.”

  I sucked in a deep breath, feeling that this little problem was more likely a “little” problem.

  “Korin, while you were being healed, Briscott scouted ahead to observe the effects of . . .” Max paused, his fuzzy brow bunching concernedly. “The effects of Lyrak’s death. Those with the rocks in their chests are still under the influence of his orders. The undead have not fallen.”

  My stomach flipped, twisted, and plunged into my feet. “After Jefren’s death, I was sure that killing the one in command would break the connection.”

  “Maybe he wasn’t the one giving the blighted orders,” Briscott offered.

  “No, he was definitely the one controlling the army,” I insisted, bile rising in my throat as I recalled Lyrak’s story. Swallowing back my nausea, I looked to Ithan. “Ithan, we only have to destroy the Source to break the Link, right?”

  “Yes, we could destroy the Link that way,” Ithan answered, his tone indicating a “but” statement to follow. “But the Link is not what powers the spell. The spell is a part of each individual rock now; the Link simply allows the rocks’ locations to be monitored and orders to be given through them from great distances. Even if we destroy the Source, the rocks will remain spelled, and the commands established through them will still hold.”

  “Since Lyrak’s control has not dissolved,” Max added, “he must have devised a way for his magic to endure even after his death. If he could pull off such a feat, it is not farfetched to assume that he also created a contingency plan for this outcome. Namely, I am sure that there will be soldiers coming for us now. Of course, all of the others under his control will continue fighting to take over Amirand.”

  The implications of Max’s words numbed my entire body. I couldn’t even feel Sal’s body against me. My eyes lost focus as I stared blankly at the floor. Til’ had sacrificed his life only for me to ruin everything.

  “I killed the only one who could have stopped this,” I admitted softly. He was under our control, unable to even fight back, and I killed him. He could’ve stopped this war with a few simple words from Briscott.”

  Max started to rise on his hind legs but promptly dropped to all fours again, still weakened from the day’s events. “That kind of talk will get us nowhere. We will get through this. We just do not have much Chronalan-blooded time to do so.” Chronalan is the god of time, and he definitely wasn’t on our side at this point.

  “Moreover, using the Link to remove the spell from all of the rocks would take a massive amount of magic energy, something we currently lack.” Max gestured at his dim Reservoir to emphasize his point, and Ithan put a hand to the case at his hip with a shake of his head.

  “Why haven’t Lyrak’s men come after us yet?” I asked after a well-warranted sigh, my voice emerging as a squeak from my constricted throat.

  Ithan tilted his head towards the iron-banded door. “I collapsed the main passage leading here. We found two others, one of which we are fairly certain is unknown to the enemy. I collapsed the second. Between that and the healings, all my sources of magic energy were depleted.”

  The collapse of the two passages was probably what prompted the rumbling in my dream. The chips of rock sheeting the floor were likely debris from the stone ceiling.

  My thoughts turned to the third passage. I wasn’t surprised that Lyrak had kept one means of escape a secret; he’d been more than a little paranoid. “Then why don’t we just leave?”

  “First,” Max began with a huff, “even if Lyrak’s soldiers are unaware of the passage, we would still have an entire army to sneak past once we got out of the castle. Therefore, we are currently safer in here than we would be out there. Second, given the length of time we have been in here, there is a good chance that his soldiers have found the passage already and are just waiting to ambush us the moment we emerge. Our only options are to sever the spell on the rocks, or use the bracelet to escape. Unfortunately, we do not presently know how to do either.”

  We all went quiet. Harken’s soft whimpering from the shadows seemed deafening in the near silence. I felt torn between our options. One could possibly save Amirand. The other could possibly take us to Raijom. Then again, there was no way of knowing if defeating Raijom would end the threat of Rizear’s influence on the world, or if we even could defeat him.

  My eyes drifted to Til’s covered body. My decision was made.

  “We can’t leave Amirand now. Raijom must be stopped before he discovers how to bring down the barriers, but not at the expense of the thousands that will die if this war continues. We have to put an end to the Soul Crystals.” I was met by more puzzled stares. I held up my hand. “I’ll explain everything once we get out of this mess.” Ifwe get out of it,I added in my mind.

  The others didn’t know we were facing the power of the god of death yet. They didn’t realize that the entire world was in peril. Really, they deserved the truth then, but I held my breath. I didn’t want to give them reason to leave Amirand behind for what they may have deemed to be a greater purpose. Til’ would’ve never agreed to leave Amirand’s kingdoms to suffer the war if it were even remotely possible to do something about it. He would’ve never agreed to leave thousands to die.

  So, as a silent tribute to Til’s memory, I kept the truth to myself for the moment. Once Amirand was safe again, I’d tell them everything.

  “Okay,” Max sighed, “now we just need to figure out how to do it.”

  Ithan cleared his throat. “I think I have an idea.”

  Chapter 58

  Tough Decisions

  Ithan’s plan to remove Lyrak’s spell from Soul Crystals was brilliant.

  I hated it.

  Ithan believed he could, as he termed it, “unravel” the spell on the Soul Crystals by utilizing the Source crystal to reach out to them. Sal’s ability to see magic would allow her to examine the structure of the spell so that she could give him an idea on how to break it down. Ithan even had a suggestion for procuring the massive amount of magic energy necessary for such an undertaking.

  That’s where my dislike for his plan came in. Magic energy can only be drawn from living beings. The only living beings in the room were Max, Sal’, Ithan, and Briscott.

  And Harken.

  Drawing a portion of the remaining magic energy within Max’s Reservoir, Ithan scanned Harken’s mind. He concluded that Harken was mentally too far gone for a return to sanity. He’d be destined to a bed-ridden life, needing full care at all hours.

  After a quick, heated discussion, we came to the conclusion that such a life was no life at all. Using Harken’s life to de-spell the Soul Crystals would potentially save untold lives, and Harken would mercifully be granted an escape from the torment in his mind.

  That didn’t mean I had to be happy about it. Harken was still an innocent man. Though he no longer possessed the mental capacity to choose for himself, making the decision for him didn’t feel right to me, no matter how pruden
t it was.

  While Sal’, Max, and Ithan focused on taking care of the Soul Crystals, I remained across the room, sitting by Til’s body in the soft orange light of a lantern I’d fished from his belt pouch. My thoughts and emotions swirled tempestuously, filling my head with a seemingly endless stream of troubling questions.

  Once Ithan finished with the Soul Crystals, then what? If we got the bracelet to work, would Raijom already be expecting us in Paigea? Would we arrive just to be killed by his forces? The thought of any more of my friends dying was almost too much to bear. Depressingly, Til’s death made such a possibility all too real.

  “Til’, I’m so sorry,” I whispered, staring down at his blanket-covered form. I pulled out my Vesteir-sigiled fortune block, running my fingers over the beautifully carved symbol of the one god I’d always put stock in. I unsuccessfully tried to hold back my tears.

  “You were the most selfless friend I’ve ever known,” I continued as the room grew blurry. “I wish I could’ve thanked you for everything. I wish I could’ve told you goodbye. I wish . . . I wish I could’ve protected you. If not for you, I would’ve never made it here. I failed you, Til’. You didn’t deserve this; you—”

  I was interrupted by a hand firmly gripping my shoulder. I looked up to see Briscott standing beside me, compassion filling his watery green eyes. Only then did I notice pain tickling the back of my throat. I must’ve been screaming. Sal’, Max, and Ithan were all staring at me despondently from the other side of the room, illuminated by the lighted orb on Lyrak’s table.

  “Sorry,” I mumbled, wiping my nose with the back of my hand.

  “It’s okay, Korin. You have to deal with this in your own way,” Briscott responded, easing himself down beside me. “Just remember that this was not your fault. As Max said, Til’ made his choice. He was a good man, a great man.” Briscott held his own fortune block, letting his head drop. “Without his bravery and sacrifice, we’d all be dead.”