Starfall (The Fables of Chaos Book 1)

by Jackson Simiana

  This girl who Tomas had barely known for a couple of days, who he had felt was somehow responsible for causing the death of his best friend, was drinking Blight to try and protect him from being torn to shreds by savage, otherworldly monsters.

  What is she thinking?!

  Lynn immediately hunched over in agony as she swallowed, her fingers twitching and legs beginning to spasm.

  “Lynn!”

  Lynn let out a distressing wail, the veins down her arms bulging from the skin and turning black. Her wincing eyes grew dark.

  The giant spiders were seconds away from reaching them.

  Tomas shut his eyes, feeling the weight of his failures overwhelm him. Lynn appeared as though she was having a bad reaction to the Blight she had swallowed, and Tomas felt sick to his core for not being able to stop her from killing herself.

  It was all over. They were done for.

  The spiders pounced into the air at Tomas and Lynn, pincers rattling, mouths agape and dripping with thick globules of blood and venom.

  Tomas winced, covering his head as he prepared for the violent attack he was sure to suffer.

  The ice Tomas lay on began to rumble and crack. Strangely, the very air around him seemed to vibrate then go still.

  Cowering and gritting his teeth, Tomas’s eyes shot open as he realised the assault hadn’t come, despite the spiders lunging for them not one second earlier.

  He peeked through his fingers, fearful of what would be before him. But what he saw shocked more than it did frighten him.

  Lynn Jhono stood between he and the three giant spiders, her hands outstretched towards the monstrous creatures who appeared to be frozen mid-air, hanging as if by invisible wires. They were stuck, levitating, mere inches away from her hands.

  The spiders’ bodies vibrated and twitched, before their multiple legs were suddenly ripped from their bodies by invisible hands.

  Their facial pincers were torn out from their carapaces and their dozens of eyes burst into a chunky sludge of green and black blood.

  The creatures shrieked as their segmented bodies were pulled apart while stuck floating mid-air, one section at a time. Gelatinous innards sank and sloshed. Their repugnant-smelling blood sprayed out across the ice beneath them as their limbs and appendages split and cracked, ripped out one-by-one.

  Lynn held her odd-looking pose, hands outstretched, and fingers contorted.

  The creatures became nothing more than hundreds of ripped apart, floating body parts. She released her invisible grip, lowering her gnarled hands to her side. The pieces fell to the ice, splashing in amongst the sludge of snow and blood that had painted the surface of the frozen river.

  Tomas’s jaw fell wide open, his eyes unblinking, unable to process any of the unbelievable things he had just witnessed. The image had been so shocking that it had distracted him from the excruciating pain for a moment.

  Lynn collapsed into the snow, spitting up blobs of black fluid. Tomas willed his aching body to move, crawling over through the snow and ice on his hands and knees. He could not ignore the pain in his back or bleeding head, but he fought through it as best he could.

  “Lynn?” he huffed as he reached her. He turned her face, seeing the black fluid running from her nose and bubbling froth spilling out of her mouth. Her eyes had rolled into the back of her head and her muscles throughout her body were twitching uncontrollably.

  Tomas shook Lynn, trying desperately to awaken her.

  “Lynn! Wake up, we need to get out of here!”

  There was no response. She was struggling for breath as her body spasmed, and muscles tensed.

  “Come on, Lynn!”

  Tomas wiped the froth and fluid from her face with his bloodied sleeve, turning her onto her side to help her cough anything else up. He hit her in the back between the shoulder blades multiple times, each one a little harder than the last.

  “Lynn!”

  Her face was growing pale.

  Tomas became stricken with horror, fearing the worst for the girl.

  Then, Lynn began to cough and gag as she appeared to regain consciousness. Tomas breathed a sigh of relief.

  Lynn was still alive.

  “You’re alright, you’re alright,” Tomas said, trying to reassure her. He could not release his grip from her shoulders and face; he felt ecstatic to see her breathing.

  “I’m… I’m alright,” she coughed, attempting to sit up.

  The village up over the side of the ravine burned and bled.

  The screams of the monsters and the dying began to quiet down.

  Tomas could not help but wonder if some of the screams he could perceive included his father’s, or if he had gotten out safely. He had to ignore it, however, as best he could.

  Tomas looked around at the gore in which they sat. Broken carapace, slick snow stained with blood, mounds of fleshy chunks. He was horrified yet amazed by what had just happened. He could not find the right words to speak.

  What had he just seen? What sacrifice did Lynn just make to save his life?

  “Lynn Jhono,” Tomas groaned as he tried to get up onto his feet, reaching a hand out to help the girl who had just saved his life. “What the fuck did you just do?”

  Chapter 44 - Dynasty

  Ser Isec Batir pushed the iron doors of the throne room open. They groaned as they swung inwards, echoing through the long hall like an old, sickly animal.

  The noise was little help for his migraine. It was an insidious sound, drilling into his ears and grinding deep through his head.

  No braziers had been lit. Much of the throne room was shadowed and gloomy, but with enough ambient light that Isec could see where he was going.

  Beams of the afternoon sunlight streamed through the stone-arched, stained glass windows. The geometric patterns in the glass allowed the sunlight to cascade brilliantly in all sorts of shapes across the throne upon which King Tobius rested, its spearhead-shaped backboard pointing upwards ominously.

  Isec went down the long throne room towards the king. The silence was deafening, only broken by his gentle footsteps. Tobius refused to look up at the man approaching him, instead keeping his head down resting in the palms of his bony hands.

  To the king’s side, looming like a haunting spectre, Sen Dorval stood. Thick-browed and broad-shouldered, the bodyguard watched Isec as sharply as a hawk, his expression as dark as his demeanour.

  “King Tobius,” Isec greeted, kneeling before the throne, and bowing his head in a great gesture of respect.

  Tobius looked ahead, briskly flicking his fingers to signal for Isec to stand up. “What do you want, Batir?”

  Tobius’s tone seemed as impatient as it had been earlier in the day when Isec had first addressed him upon his return to Andervale.

  Isec cut right to the chase. “My king, I need to speak with you about Wesley.”

  “What’s the idiot done this time?”

  Isec thought for a moment, knowing that Tobius, despite loathing Wesley at times, was an overprotective father as well.

  How do I word this to him?

  “I… I worry about him,” Isec said, clearing his throat.

  Tobius glared at Sen Dorval, then back at Isec, perplexed. “With conflict breaking out once again between Caldaea and Ashen, my city filled to the brim with refugees, and the fucking sky ripping itself open, you think now is a good time to tell me that you are worried about the prince?!”

  “I hold concern for his state of mind, and the danger he presents to those around him. In particular, for his new wife,” Isec said boldly.

  Tobius shrugged. “And what of it? You think I give two shits about Ciana Blacktree?”

  Isec shut his mouth firmly, realising that that approach was not going to work.

  Isec felt his own restraint loosening in frustration. “Look Tobius, the prince had me do some despicable things after you left… he had me bring him whores to his chambers, where I found Ciana beaten and bruised.”

  “She is a womb for my
grandchild, the future heir to this very throne. Nothing else!” Tobius slammed his closed fist against the throne’s armrest.

  Isec shook his head in dismay, stunned by what he was hearing, how his king was talking about his daughter-by-law. It was unbelievable.

  Things, however, were beginning to make more sense to Isec over time.

  All the rumours he had heard over the years about Tobius and how he had treated Wesley’s mother, Alina, before her untimely death suddenly flashed back into his mind.

  The whores. The horrific mistreatment of Ciana that Isec had witnessed. The crude words that Tobius and Wesley used to describe women. Queen Alina’s mysterious death, found beaten and bloodied with no clear perpetrator.

  It was like seeing a trail of clues leading up to one explanation that Isec did not want to believe.

  “Like father, like son,” Isec said under his breath.

  Tobius’s eyes widened. “What did you just say?” he said with a boom.

  “N-nothing, my king.” Isec knew that battling the king with words was not a fight he would win, even if he was in the right.

  “Watch yourself, Batir,” Tobius spat, pointing his finger straight down at him.

  Isec heard the throne room doors open from his rear as a lone, silhouetted figure pranced towards them.

  “Ah, speaking of my son,” Tobius said.

  As soon as Isec realised it was Prince Wesley, he turned his head back to avert his eyes, not wanting to even catch a glimpse of the boy who had humiliated him.

  “Hello, father,” Wesley said, hands clutched behind his back, standing before the throne like a trained dog. “I heard the meeting with Emery Blacktree did not turn out as well as you had expected?”

  “Scheming bastards attacked Tellersted. We barely escaped with our lives.”

  The bitterness in Tobius’s voice was clear. Saliva dripped from his mouth as he cursed Ashen.

  “They will pay for all of their treachery, father,” Wesley assured.

  “What, and you’re going to be the one to break them with the hammer of justice, are you?” Tobius sneered.

  Wesley began to twitch. “I want them dead as much as you do.”

  “Oh, I know you do, boy. Their prince took away your plaything and you want her back!”

  Tobius was chuckling maniacally. He was the only one in the room doing so.

  “Don’t call her that.”

  “What? Your plaything? You hear this, Dorval? My son thinks he can tell me what to do!”

  Tobius looked to the enormous guard, cackling away. Sen Dorval barely even moved, let alone made a noise or said a word. He just stared back, unblinking.

  Wesley appeared to be more and more uncomfortable. Isec chose not to interject, lest he become the focus of the viciousness once again.

  “Father, I… I have begun to put together a new plan for our House while you were away,” Wesley said.

  Tobius snorted. “Thinking of cutting off the prince’s other arm?”

  “I believe I can help make a difference for Caldaea.”

  “How’s he gonna finger your precious Jodie with no hands?!”

  Wesley grimaced but somehow chose to ignore the words of his raving father. Isec was surprised. Wesley was normally quick to lash back.

  Isec felt so uncomfortable that he considered leaving at first, although he knew he would not be allowed to exit just yet. The king always liked to have an audience when he belittled his son.

  Isec was surprised he hadn’t called in the entire court yet to listen to his ‘clever’ jokes.

  “Ashen is a parasite which must be cleansed from this world,” Wesley said, taking a step up the dais towards the throne his father sat upon.

  “Ha! Dribble from your mouth that I actually agree with!” Tobius said.

  Wesley took another step towards his father as he spoke. “We need a strong ruler who has the gall to do what needs to be done, without pity or remorse. A ruler who can bring about a new age for Caldaea and for House Seynard.”

  Tobius’s initial chuckles and snorts then slowed and transformed into a frown.

  “Are you calling me weak, boy? How dare you!” Tobius shouted. The king leapt up from the spear-shaped throne, still looking down at the prince.

  Wesley, rather than cowering away or whimpering as he would normally, stood at chest-level, staring his father straight in the eye.

  What are you doing, boy? Isec was just as confused as Tobius appeared to be.

  “I’d have half a brain to give you the same treatment I gave to your whoring mother!” Tobius spat.

  “Go ahead, old man. Right now, you bury yourself further into the pit you dug without even realising it.”

  Tobius was trying harder to assert his dominance over Wesley, yet somehow failing. “I will have your head, boy!”

  “And what would you be left with, father? Hm? You would be left with an aged, failing body, far too old and far too fat to find another breeding wife, a court who despises you, and two daughters who will never rule. Face it, it would be an end to your pitiful dynasty.

  “I am your son, your only son. The only heir to the throne, the only future this House has left after all you have done to break us down. Truth is, you need me more than I will ever need you.”

  Isec was stunned by what he was hearing. Wesley was standing up to his cruel father with a newfound arrogance, more than he had ever in his entire life.

  Where was all of this coming from? Had all this spite towards his father been bottled up inside all this time?

  Tobius’s lower lip began to quiver as his jaw remained stuck open. His crown was beginning to tip to the side, sitting ajar atop his bald head.

  For the first time in Isec’s career, King Tobius Seynard was speechless.

  “My wife will be my queen,” Wesley continued, staring up at his father yet somehow appearing larger than him, “and she will give me plenty of sons and daughters. And if for some reason she cannot bear children or forces herself to lose the child, then I have plenty more whores to impregnate.

  “I will be the beginning of the new dawn for Caldaea, father. For too long you have allowed our rivals to think of themselves as equal to us. With the Moon Mother’s blessing, I will take what I want, when I want. I will destroy those who have wronged me. I will bathe the continent in blood if I have to.”

  Isec took a step away from the dais, fearful of how Tobius was going to react.

  Wesley paused, his eyes widening as he faced his enraged father who remained motionless. “You have tarnished our family’s name long enough, father.”

  Tobius pointed his bony finger straight into Wesley’s face to try once more to assert his authority, clenching his teeth tight and practically hissing.

  “You little shit. You’ve done it now-”

  Everything happened so fast that it took a moment for Isec to comprehend.

  Wesley ripped a dagger from his belt, a long poniard with golden crossguards. In a single, swift strike, Wesley sliced through Tobius’s outstretched finger like scissors through paper.

  The cut was clean; Tobius’s pointing finger was completely severed from his hand at the knuckle. An obscene amount of blood splashed out in a narrow stream.

  The severed, wrinkled appendage made a splat as it landed, before rolling down the steps of the dais. Fresh blood pumped from the fingerless stump on Tobius’s hand, painting the dais and tiled floor with a brilliant red.

  Isec’s eyes widened in shock. The dagger.

  Something about the signature style of the poniard. The shining crossguards and expensive resin handle.

  He immediately recognised the weapon, for it was the poniard that Isec had gifted him. It was the dagger Isec had presented Wesley on his wedding night.

  Moon Mother, no. Oh, no.

  The king screamed out after a moment, from pain or from shock, Isec was uncertain.

  Isec gasped as the realisation of what was happening struck him, taking several steps away but unable to look anywhe
re else.

  Wesley smirked as he wiped his father’s blood from the steel blade against his embroidered tunic. It was a ghastly grin. The blackness in his eyes was darker than midnight.

  Tobius sank to the base of the throne, still screaming. The jet of blood did not let up. He clutched at it with his uninjured hand, desperately trying to stop the flow.

  Wesley just watched, seemingly petrified by the king’s wailing and squirming, right at his feet.

  “Dorval,” Wesley said in a calm tone despite the horror he had just committed. “Would you do the honour, please?”

  The giant soldier uttered no words as he stomped over towards the cowering king. His plate armour and chainmail rang as he walked in a menacing chorus of metal.

  Isec had taken enough steps back that he would be ready to defend himself if need be, yet Wesley and Sen Dorval did not appear interested in him at all.

  For the time being.

  Sen Dorval paused in his tracks as he stood overshadowing Tobius, looking straight at Wesley, almost as if waiting for permission for something.

  Wesley casually scratched his temple before huffing and nodding to the brute.

  In one almighty move, Sen Dorval lifted the bleeding king as he whimpered, heaving him over his shoulder and turning around to face the throne.

  Isec shouted out in horror. “Wait, don’t-”

  Dorval threw Tobius down over the pinnacle of the throne’s spearhead backboard, piercing straight through the old man’s back and out through his stomach.

  Tobius gasped his last, agonising breath as the stone spear tip atop the throne cleaved through his midsection, practically splitting the old man in two. Organs and glistening viscera were forced out from his abdomen as his body slid down the pinnacle of the spearhead with gravity.

  Blood bucketed out of the king’s abdomen, flowing slickly down the backrest of the throne in distinct rivers and pooling on the very seat he had been resting on only moments before.

  Tobius came to a final rest having been ripped nearly in two, still impaled on the tip. His head flopped back as his heart ceased beating. The bronze crown slipped and fell with a crash to the floor beneath him.

  Isec was petrified by panic and shock, unable to move a single part of his body. He tried running but his legs were stone. He tried to shout but his throat remained shut.