The Narkurru

by Shannon McRoberts

  “Is’che’aiq?”

  “Yes, Athine. I am the spirit in your sword known as Is’che’aiq.”

  Lye-Ashe yelled at Athine to stand back away from the spirit, as he was a particularly dangerous spirit.

  “What do you mean, Lye-Ashe?”

  “Why not have him tell you himself, Athine?”

  “Is’che’aiq, how did you come to be bound to that weapon?”

  The spirit Is’che’aiq bowed his head in shame. If it were possible for a spirit to cry he would have. “I was once the ruler of a realm far away from here. I guess you could say I was cruel at best. I took what I wanted from whom I wanted, when I wanted. I waged wars to increase my coffers and I killed servants for looking at me in the wrong tone. The world was my oyster to smash. I wasn’t even afraid of the immortals in my world. We only had one goddess named Niliv and I forsook her. She begged me to change my ways. I could not. She loved me more than any of her other creations, but I could not love her back. Niliv was there when the time came and I passed on, but she barred me from entering any of the final resting places. She cursed me to wander the Underworld dimension with no place to go.

  It was there that these Narkurru demons came along and trapped me in these blasted chains. They prevented me from moving and their magic bound me to the sword. The weapons they make are usually for their own enjoyment, but Niliv heard of my plight and took pity on me. She rescued me and took me to your realm where she hid me until Asdage found me. I thirsted for blood and vengeance so I let Asdage use me. I let you use me. I knew what would happen when I struck Shultash. I chose that destruction to let all of the souls in that weapon go free. I was reserved to spend the rest of my life shattered. I did not count on you wanting to fix me or Lye-Ashe trying to trick you. Athine, they intend to bind you to a weapon because they think you are weak.”

  “They think I am weak?”

  “Yes, Athine. You are in a weakened state and I am stronger. That is why I lured you down here. I was hoping you would come and try to save your precious weapon. I may have lost Shultash, but I still plan to get powers. I am going to put you in this fine golden sword my brother has been making for me.” With that, Lye-Ashe wrapped a set of Shumkaja chains around Athine’s hands and waist. They burned every time she moved as if her very flesh was being marred.

  “Stay still pretty. I no want your skin to be too burned. Once your soul is in the sword for my sister, your body will be left here as Chreuthecal to me. I will finally have a worthy consort.”

  Athine became enraged by the plan. Did these creatures think she was that weak? These chains may burn and sting, but she had the power to incinerate them where they stood. Seorithcal took out his moonstone and began chanting. He danced around the sword and wrote magical glyphs on the blade. Athine could feel herself weaken slightly. She knew she had to fight. She summoned all of her focus on to the chains and demanded that they break. They fell off her link by link. The siblings were too busy with their rituals to notice Athine slipping behind them. She summoned a giant bolt of Sh’cersay in each hand and flung it at Seorithcal and Lye-Ashe. Both of them burst into white-hot flames as their very essence was obliterated. They disappeared into the great abyss as their essence dissolved into tiny free-floating particles.

  Athine turned to Is’che’aiq. She broke the chains that bound him. For the first time in eons, he was free to move. It was an unusual feeling. He turned to Athine. A look of sadness came over his face.

  “What about all the other weapons here? Can you free them as well?”

  With one wave of her hand, all of the weapons broke as she commanded the spirits to come out with the moonstone Seorithcal had used. Hundreds of lost souls appeared before her. She assumed they were all cursed souls that had been captured by the Narkurru. Maybe some of them were even from other realms like Is’che’aiq. All of these ghostly faces looked haggard and worn as if they had not rested in ages. Athine felt sorry for them. They had been punished enough.

  “Beleaguered souls, the Narkurru that wrongfully captured you have been destroyed. You are now free again to go wherever you desire to go.”

  Many of the spirits spoke up. “We have no place to go. Will you not put us out of our misery by using your powers on us? Will you not make it so we can rejoin the universal essence?”

  Athine pondered this for a moment. She could easily do that, but was it right to destroy so many souls. Was there not some other way? As she raised her hand to destroy the first willing participant she was distracted by a portal being opened next to her.

  “Stop, Athine. You do not have to destroy these souls,” a commanding Isri said as she walked out of the portal.

  “Poor souls of the Narkurru, you have all ended up here for various reasons. In the very least your immortals banned you from your resting places. Regardless of the reason, the Chaddral people open up their world to you. Nal’yera can be a place where you can dwell in safety and no longer wander. The portal is here for you to take. But do not ponder very long for it will not be open forever. Or if you wish you can have Athine destroy your essence and return you to the dust of the universe,” Isri told the group of spirits.

  Most all of the spirits immediately took Isri’s portal to the afterworld created by the true Crythl for the Chaddral followers. Then there was only Isri, Athine, and Is’che’aiq.

  “Is’che’aiq, you must choose your fate now.” Athine prodded not wanting him to miss the portal.

  “Who will protect you if I am gone? There must be a way to bind me to your sword again. I do not wish to leave your side.”

  “Is’che’aiq, you do not have to stay here because of me. I will be fine. You have served me well and I am sure you served Asdage well. I may not be Niliv, but I am the Vesait’e here and I want you to go to Nal’yera where you can rest,” Athine instructed.

  “But what good is a Vesait’e, even if she is a Ph’tiahon, without a powerful weapon,” pleaded Is’che’aiq.

  “Athine, if I may, I can help you with this. As a Chaddral Sulesa, I am able to create a Shuthare, which is a weapon that is bound to the earth instead of a person. It will still be full of powerful magic, just not a bound spirit. It will definitely be different, but this way your Is’che’aiq can go freely into the afterworld without worrying about you,” Isri offered.

  Athine looked surprised at Isri. The Chaddral, who swore away from all immortal help, was offering to help an immortal?

  “I know it seems strange, but I am thinking that the Chaddral need to go in a new direction. Immortals are not our enemies and neither are all mortals our friends. If I help you, perhaps one day you can help my people. Although we may not worship an immortal patron, there is nothing that says we cannot have an immortal ally.”

  Athine pondered this. “It is up to Is’che’aiq. He must choose what he wants to do. If he wants to remain bound to me then I am not going to stop him. If he wants to go to the afterworld then that is acceptable as well. I refuse to dissolve him though. Is’che’aiq, what say you?”

  “My spirited one, if you wish me to move on and you say you will be alright, I will move on. I do not know when I will get another chance like this. Isri, I leave her weapon in your hands and I thank you for opening up your realm to me. Farewell, Athine. I bid you well. Perhaps one day I will see you just past the N’Loron.”

  Is’che’aiq bowed a farewell one last time and stepped into the portal just as it closed. Athine and Isri returned to Cerynian.

  Verse Two: Epilogue

  IT WAS THE GRANDEST wedding that any city had seen when Est’it wed Isri. Both were overjoyed at the obstacles that they had overcome when they welcomed their first child into the world, Athinea, named in honor of Athine.

  Athinea would grow up strong in the Chaddral arts just like her mother and siblings. Cerynian continued to prosper under the new alliance with the distant Emoroka.

  The people of Cerynian soon forgot the Narkurru magic they had learned and instead learned Chaddral. The inhabitants
were free to worship whatever deity they desired. A term of Pax Chaddral reigned in this new era of freedom.

  Isri was able to make Athine a powerful weapon that she named Hujase. It was a beautiful earthen staff made in Ialo and endowed with powerful Chaddral magic. It kept Athine safe and allowed her to magnify her powers, but there was never a time that went by that she didn’t think of Is’che’aiq and wonder if he was doing alright.

  Also by Shannon McRoberts

  The Daughter of Ares Chronicles

  The Beginning: The Daughter of Ares Chronicles

  The Narkurru

  The Nikeda Trilogy

  The Secret of Genetic Corp X

  Standalone

  Untitled Sadness

  Watch for more at Shannon McRoberts’s site.

  About the Author

  Shannon McRoberts is a lifelong Kentuckian who holds a BA in Psychology, with minors in Sociology and Art from Georgetown College. She has used her education throughout her career, working in many exciting arts and literary related fields including comic creation, eBook cover design, and website design. Always a lover of fantasy, she enjoys comic books, RPGs, and fantasy-based themed shows.

  Shannon currently weaves myths and magic as a fantasy author and artist. She is the author of The Daughter of Ares Chronicles and illustrator for the graphic novel adaptation of the series. She often sums up her signature series in a single line: Imagine if Xena and Buffy fall into Middle Earth and run across Blade Runner while trying to save the universe.

  Read more at Shannon McRoberts’s site.