“What, that you practiced your sword fighting with your little friends today? Oh please, don’t waste my time.” He continued mumbling something else, but Razzius couldn’t understand it.
“Well, actually I was sworn in as an official Knight of Haile today. But more importantly, I saved a young man’s life, in front of the entire town. The mayor called me a hero, the greatest Knight of my generation. He even said that a portrait of me would be hung in the Hall of Heroes.” Razzius beamed with a confidence that he usually never displayed in front of his father. It was the crowning achievement of his life, and he was proud to share it with everyone, even his father.
Wurn stared at him intently, hating his son more with every passing moment. The boy who had ruined his happy life now had become a hero to the entire town. Impossible. Wurn had toiled for years as a Knight, overshadowed by others more skilled than he, and yet he had never gained the recognition or the admiration that Razzius enjoyed now. Wurn’s hatred at his own shortcomings, his sadness at the loss of his wife, his misplaced ire over his son’s accomplishments, and the powerful effect of alcohol all combined to overtake him. He grabbed Razzius by the throat and forcefully pressed him up against the wall. He snarled, “How dare you, boy! You think you’re better than me! Mark my words; those same people will turn their backs on you someday! The Knight Guard is better off without you!”
Wurn sucker punched his son in the chest. Razzius doubled over in pain, gasping for breath. Wurn kicked him in the ribs repeatedly, drunkenly chastising the boy’s sense of grandeur and passion for his duty.
Razzius squirmed, trying to avoid his father’s wrath, but Wurn continued to pummel him. Blow after blow smashed into Razzius. But he was a man now, a Knight; he didn’t have to accept this anymore. And to think, I actually saved your miserable life!
Razzius screamed with a rage that had been dormant inside of him for years. He rose to his feet, blocked his father’s next punch, and kneed him in the gut. Wurn lurched backwards, struggling to breathe. It was the opening that Razzius needed. Without words or hesitation he unsheathed his sword, a confident glee now covering his face. He stepped aggressively toward his father, and buried the full length of his longsword into Wurn’s stomach. Razzius howled loudly, a catharsis from the years of abuse and torment. The blood oozed down his father’s abdomen, slowly splotching the floor below.
Wurn’s eyes went wide with surprise, as his brain processed what was happening. The alcohol provided him a reprieve from the pain, but it did not prevent his realization that his death was imminent. Razzius slowly pulled the sword from its fleshy home, and stared blankly at his father. He stabbed him again, this time in the side. Then again, and again. The thrusts were deliberate, purposeful. His father screamed, begging his son to stop.
But his words were unheard by Razzius who plunged the blade harder and deeper into his father’s dying corpse. Razzius breathed heavily as he stood over his father who was gasping his final breaths. He dropped his sword and it clunked to the ground. The candlelight that had filled the room vanished, plunging Razzius into a sea of complete darkness. Wurn lay in a mangled, grotesque heap on the floor. Razzius shed no tears, said no prayers for his dead father. To him this was justified self-defense against an evil, vile, hateful man. Razzius had survived his father’s hatred for eighteen long years, and now, he had ended it.
Chapter 24:
Trade all day, drink all night. Be sure to stop at the Silver Shield, just a short walk from Alacrecia, after a long day of trading. Nightly specials include the age old classic Silver Stout, Beggar’s Beef, and the lovely Silver Shield barmaids.
- Spoken advertisement during heavy trade hours in Alacrecia
Catherine sat at a small, round, wooden table with two places set for dinner. There were several candles lit in the kitchen, casting their light and illuminating the otherwise dark dining room of her home. It was late in the night now and she knew that Galvan would be coming home from work soon. Her open windows allowed some moonlight and fresh air to join her as she waited. She could feel a light, warm breeze permeate the room as she stood up to check on a crackling bonfire outside. She opened a wooden door and headed out onto a moonlit path. She approached the fire and saw that the trout was nearly finished cooking.
Catherine was a skilled chef. She had no choice. She had raised herself since she was seventeen years old when she lost both of her parents in a mysterious accident. Catherine had become quite adept at tasks like cooking and gathering and didn’t mind displaying her skills once in a while. She couldn’t help but feel sorry for Galvan. But she felt that she connected with him because he shared her understanding of personal loss. He had told her his story so many times, and even though she wasn’t in his exact situation, she still felt like the two connected on a deeper level due to her circumstances. She stared into the beautiful fire and watched as the flames danced and frolicked in the light breeze. She could hear the trout sizzle slightly, and after several moments, she removed the fish from the spit and brought it inside the house. She placed it on a silver platter and seasoned it. She sat down on a stool and started practicing the sorcery that Galvan had taught her earlier.
She drew the same symbols in the air that he had showed her. “I travel the longest road from east to west and then two hops over the trout creek and…” Still nothing. Catherine could feel her frustration getting the better of her. Something told her that it wasn’t going to be as easy as she had hoped. “Ugh, why can’t you just work like I want you to?” she mused to herself and her audience of shadows from her furniture and knickknacks that were scattered throughout the room. Again she tried. “I travel the longest road from east to west and then two hops over the trout creek and…”
Nothing.
“Are you going to practice sorcery all night or are we going to eat dinner?” Galvan called from outside, jolting her from her practice session.
She was relieved to hear his voice. She lived alone and always looked forward to him coming over after work. Sometimes she wondered if it could ever be more than just a friendly dinner.
“C-c-come in, Galvan,” she replied, her voice riddled with excitement as Galvan opened the door.
He stood in the doorway and nodded his head. “My, my, look at this. You really went all out this time, Catherine.”
“It’s just a couple of candles, Galvan, nothing too fancy.” She pointed to the scrumptious looking trout that was in front of them. “I let the trout cook a little bit longer tonight. It was bigger than usual and I wanted to make sure that I cooked him all the way through. I still can’t believe that you caught one that big. We could feed four people with this fish!”
“Remember those four people aren’t Galvan Gabrielle and his apprentice in training Catherine Daelan. Our ability to consume food is legendary throughout the lands and…”
“It has been told far and wide that we are capable of eating even the largest fish caught or greatest stag taken, right, Galvan?” she interrupted, finishing his sentence.
“How did you know?” he asked, knowing full well this was about the fiftieth time he had said this to her.
“Oh, you know, just another chapter in the adventures of Galvan Gabrielle, right?”
“Right. Shall we eat?”
“Yes, let’s eat!” She motioned to sit down. “Then we can go and enjoy the fire outside. It’s a beautiful evening.”
Catherine cut the fish down the middle, exposing a fresh pink flesh that indicated a high quality catch. At first bite Galvan felt his taste buds tickle with sensation as he savored the flavors of fresh trout and Catherine’s blend of seasonings.
“Catherine, this is amazing! I can’t believe how much flavor you have brought out in this trout. Normally they taste fantastic enough, but it’s just that special something that you added to bring out those extra flavors. What is that?” he asked, licking his lips in approval. He reached for another piece of trout.
“Well, it’s a new seasoning that I picked up at the mark
et today. I can’t quite remember what it was called…. Tara...or maybe it was pep…. Ugh, I cannot for the life of me remember. Oh well, I am really happy how it turned out, though. I was really excited to try it. Remind me tomorrow before you leave for work that I need to ask the shopkeeper what that seasoning was called.” She took another fork-filling bite, and let out a sigh of pleasure as the flavors danced on her palate.
They ate and conversed about the day’s events. Galvan added even more of his fabricated adventures. Soon after they had finished dinner they went to sit next to the fire outside. The crackling flames were beginning to die down and Catherine added more wood to quench their avaricious hunger.
Galvan placed a few logs on the fire and sat down next to Catherine. “Now watch closely and I’ll teach you something new.” He took his right hand and placed it in front of him with only his index finger pointing toward the fire, and began to trace a single line from left to right. “The mightiest dragon flies through the sky.” He frantically wiggled all five fingers of his left hand below the first line and continued, “Breathing fire to the lands below.” He pointed his right hand once again at the fire, and a burst of flame erupted from it. This caused the waning fire to erupt into brilliant flames.
Catherine jolted back a bit in her excitement. “That was delightful, Galvan. Do you mind if I try?” she asked, her pleading eyes begging him to teach her another sorcery.
“Of course you can, Catherine. That is why I showed you.”
“Well, here goes.” She took her index finger and traced a line from left to right in front of her. “The mightiest dragon flies through the sky.” She proceeded to identically copy Galvan’s movements as she wiggled her fingers on her other hand. “Breathing fire to the lands below.” She pointed her index finger at the fire. Nothing. She tried not to let her disappointment show, but her efforts were of no use; she felt like a failure.
Galvan could see that she was upset. “Come now, if it were easy there would be sorcerers all across the land. It is because it is not so simple that there are so few sorcerers in these lands and even fewer ‘masters’ to speak of.”
“Masters?”
“Listen carefully, Catherine. It is said that there are only a handful of really powerful sorcerers in this world. They have practiced sorcery so much that they are able to call on the hidden energies of these lands at will, without the aid of runes or incantations. They can cast spells so rapidly that no novice sorcerer, and few adept ones for that matter, can compete against them. In fact, these master sorcerers can merely think a spell, and it manifests itself from the energy they harness from their inner-connectedness with the lands. My father is one of those great sorcerers. He even used to tell me stories when I was little of ancient sorcerers so powerful, that they had mastered eternal life. But I’ve never met anyone this powerful before, so I think he was just trying to get me to practice harder,” Galvan explained. He had lost focus for a moment, and didn’t notice Catherine’s head now resting on his shoulder. The fire continued to crackle as the two sat there in silence.
Pop!
The fire shot a sudden spark that landed on Galvan’s arm; he flinched as it singed his skin for a moment. Galvan tried not to move. He didn’t want to disturb Catherine who he thought had dozed off to sleep. Galvan sat in silence for a long time before he felt one of her arms wrap around the arm she was leaning against.
“Galvan, how was the ceremony tonight?” Catherine asked. “I was out gathering and tidying up the house all day, so I was unable to make it to the festivities.”
“It was exhausting,” Galvan responded. “But I got to choose this year’s competitors after the ceremony. It was great fun to watch those two use their new skills. Oh! During the ceremony, at the reception, I watched another one of the new recruits save a boy’s life. I didn’t get to see the whole event, but apparently some bandit snuck into Haile and was kidnapping someone’s little boy. One of the new Knights threw a javelin and stopped the bandit dead in his tracks. Really, Catherine, I’m not making this up. It was such an eventful day. I think I poured more brews than I ever have before in my life.” He stopped for a moment and then said, “Catherine, thank you again for tonight.”
Catherine turned her head up to look at him and responded happily, “Galvan, it was my pleasure.” After the final words left her lips, she returned to her resting position on his arm. The two sat outside under the stars, enjoying each other’s company for a few more hours.
Chapter 25:
Sora through your grace and might,
Hold me and my family tight.
Even in the darkest night,
Save us from Deminion’s blight.
- Hailian Children’s Prayer
Razzius left his father’s carcass lie on the floor as he took a seat in a large wood chair in the kitchen. He sat alone, in silence and complete darkness, shaking as he began to realize the weight of what had just occurred. Though he was convinced in his mind he had done the right thing, the Mayor of Haile, and its citizens for that matter, would have other thoughts. He was a Knight, a sworn protector of the people of Haile; yet he had just killed one of them in cold blood. Suddenly, he was terrified, horrified, to have to face the consequences of his actions. Few people knew of the terrible abuse he had suffered at Wurn’s hands, and fewer yet would be willing to accept that Razzius’ actions were justified.
As he sat in the desolate room, head held in both hands, he felt an eerie cold spread up and down his spine. The hairs on his neck stood at attention as he shivered violently, clutching himself with both arms. His teeth chattered and goosebumps covered his body. The icy sensation spread, working its way from his back to his neck, down his shoulder to his hands. It was as though it was alive, moving around him, through him, overtaking him, like a sickness.
Razzius slowly lifted his head and stared against the darkness. It wasn’t immediate, but the apparition of a human face gradually materialized before him. Razzius could only see the being’s face as the rest of the figure was shrouded in the darkness. The face was male, handsome, charming. Its eyes blended into the obscure background, holding Razzius’ gaze. Razzius was frightened, yet so entranced that he could not bring himself to run. He stared in perplexed disbelief, rationalizing perhaps that his own mind was playing tricks on him. He was jolted out of that reasoning when the visage spoke to him:
“Razziusss, it doesssn’t need to be thisss way,” the ghost said, the s sound lingering in every word it slowly uttered. “You know the citizensss of Haile, they won’t be able to ssssee your plight, underssstand your misssery. Esssscape Razziusss, before itsss too late.”
Its words hung in the air, dancing in the darkness. Before Razzius could summon the courage to respond, the phantom vanished. Its words repeated over and over in Razzius’ mind. Razzius sat in the dark kitchen, stunned, scared, and alone. He had to get out of that cursed house, away from the corporeal reminder of the crime he had just committed. He neglected the apparition’s warnings, and ran toward the only people who he thought could help him: Benni and Lawrence.
Razzius rushed outside, hurrying toward Benni’s house, where he knew his two friends and fellow Knights would be getting ready to sleep. His head was spinning. The homes and torches that lined the streets became a blurry mess as he raced by. Though he knew the way to Benni’s home by heart, he turned down wrong streets in his frantic haste. It was like a malevolent force pulling him through a maze. He swished and swayed recklessly down backstreets and alleys, finally arriving at Benni’s front door. He didn’t knock, not wishing to alert anyone else to his plight. He tried the door and it creaked open. Both Benni and Lawrence were sitting at the kitchen table, enjoying a quick snack before bed.
“Benni, Lawrence, please come here quickly!” Razzius whispered urgently.
Lawrence and Benni turned around, startled by the late-night intrusion. They couldn’t quite make out Razzius in the darkness. Lawrence peered toward the doorway, drawing his sword in self-defense. “Wh
o goes there?” he whispered sternly. “Razzius, is that you?!”
Razzius breathed heavy, trying to regain his composure. “Please, Lawrence, Benni, it’s me, Razzius. Please come with me quickly. I’m afraid I’ve done something terrible. I need to show you something at my house. I need your help!” He puffed the words out, trying to speak and catch his breath at the same time. Razzius’ tone was serious; he left no room for other interpretations.
Benni could hear the trepidation in Razzius’ voice. He whispered, “Razzius, calm down. You can count on us to help you.”
Razzius nodded affirmatively. “Thank you, Benni. You two are the only ones I trust, are the only ones who will understand….” Razzius trailed off as he backed away from the door. He turned to leave, allowing his friends no chance to question him further.
Benni and Lawrence shot each other a troubled glance, grabbed their swords, and threw on their Knight Guard tunics. Razzius was jogging twenty paces ahead, his frame a silhouette against the torches that lined the streets.
Razzius could hear his friends’ repeated calls for him to slow down, but he never looked back toward Benni and Lawrence. He quickened his pace so he could stay just ahead of them.
Benni and Lawrence saw him turn down a long, dark alley, and they looked at each other. Neither had ever known that their friend lived in such a desolate, deserted area.
Razzius arrived at his house, opened the door, and disappeared inside. He knew what he must do. His friends would understand.
Benni and Lawrence trailed Razzius, but finally arrived at the front door. They slowly opened it, and were greeted by the warm light of a candle that Razzius had lit inside. The boys’ eyes adjusted to the light. They could see Razzius standing in the middle of the kitchen. Razzius knelt down on one knee, using the candle to illuminate Wurn’s bloody remains.
Looks of horror and disgust formed on the faces of Benni and Lawrence as they recoiled from the grisly sight. “In Sora’s name, what have you done, Razzius?” Benni gasped.
The Trinity of Heroes (I Will Protect You Book 1) Page 21