“It took a long time to instill a warrior’s temperament, and she was furious with me more than once. But I think she realized I was her last chance. If she didn’t learn anything from me—or refused to—there was nothing else. She would either be taking inventory for the rest of her life, or be out on the street.”
“Was she always good with an axe?”
“Thankfully, yes. She needed training on battle technique, but her skill was inherent. And her magical ability was impressive…as you saw earlier.” Kaia let out a long sigh.
“How old was she when she joined?”
“Sixteen. She already had a…personality all her own. I don’t think she liked the fact that someone close to her age was bossing her around. I think she felt threatened by me. But then everything changed.”
“What happened?” A sudden chill overcame Ryris, the wind picking up and blowing glowing embers close to their feet. He quickly stomped them out.
“She had been out at a pub, got drunk, and ended up mouthing off to a patron. They got into a verbal tussle, and he didn’t care much for this strong-willed young woman getting in his face—and he hit her. So naturally she fought back, knocked the guy out cold, and ordered another drink. Someone in the tavern alerted the Guard and she was brought back to the barracks and told to pack her things. The Crystal Guard had a reputation to uphold, and that kind of behavior was unacceptable.”
“But somehow she was allowed to stay…” Ryris could already feel pride for his friend welling in his chest.
“Word got back to me just in time. The elders wanted her gone, but I convinced them she deserved a second chance. She was allowed to stay, under my direct and constant supervision. The council warned me that it wasn’t just her reputation that was on the line—but mine as well.
“They had her waiting in a small windowless room in the barracks tower. All her belongings were stuffed into two duffels, her crystal axe nowhere to be seen. The quartermaster had confiscated it since it still belonged to the Guard. She looked so helpless.” Kaia paused, staring up to the sky for a moment. “I told her to grab her bags and follow me to my private quarters. Later, when she asked why she was being allowed back, I congratulated her for cold-cocking the loudmouth in the pub before telling her never to do it again.
“She was astounded someone would stand up for her. No one had ever shown her an ounce of mercy or compassion—until she met me. Our relationship changed that day, and she blossomed into the fierce warrior—and friend—that I knew from that day forward.”
“At least you can cherish those memories, right?”
“Yes. It doesn’t make it hurt any less, though. My heart is broken, and I fear that part will never mend.” She wistfully looked up toward the barn loft. “And Jaric…it must have been horrible for him to come to grips with her death, although if you think getting me to admit my feelings was hard…”
“I don’t understand.”
“Relationships were forbidden within the Guard. Never mind the age difference.”
Ryris was absolutely shocked. He had always thought there was a—sometimes spoken, sometimes not—rule about fraternization within military ranks. It made battle hard, made emotions flare up. He looked to Kaia; her head slumped between her shoulders, her fingers picking at the stitches on her pants. All of a sudden, he had a revelation about her—about Jaric. When they had arrived at his tomb, Ryris had alluded to whether or not they had been involved. Her reply had been curt—and now he knew why. Hearing her speak, seeing her body language—it was suddenly obvious that Kaia had once harbored feelings for Jaric that he did not share. Ealsig’s death just became much more devastating.
“Ryris?”
Kaia’s voice snapped him from his thoughts. “Yes?”
“You can never tell Jaric I’ve confided in you about his relationship with Ealsig. Promise me?”
“Pinky swear.” He held out his little finger, and she hooked her own around it in solidarity. “Did she have a title, like you and Jaric?”
“Of course. All members were given special monikers, usually by comrades. I chose hers.” Kaia smiled at the memory. “She was Ealsig the Intrepid. Fearless, adventurous. She never backed away from exploration or adventure. She’d be chomping at the bit to get into that mine.”
“Thank you for sharing her story with me, I know it was difficult.”
“She deserves to be remembered, faults and all. It makes us who we are.”
Ryris nodded knowingly. “Do you think we’ll be remembered? When this is all over?”
“Only time will tell.”
~~~
The army arena was cramped, hot, and smelled of sweat and steel.
Almost a thousand soldiers stood in rank, awaiting an inspection from their emperor. Not the entire army’s force, for some three-hundred warriors were stationed in the far reaches of the empire. Some finished final checks of their armor, others polished weapons to a mirror sheen. The commanding officers ensured their garrisons were in perfect order before the monarch arrived.
Located far north from the city of Keld, the complex was well away from the eyes of the everyday citizens, and the residents seemed to keep their distance without being told. The stagecoach arrived, the setting sun just beginning to dip below the horizon. Emperor Roann disembarked, his always-present assistant nowhere to be seen.
When the sovereign entered the stadium, the military trumpeters blared their klaxons, heralding his arrival. All soldiers snapped to attention, weapons and shields held high in the air. As Roann walked down the center aisle, each row of warriors turned to face him, their clanking armor thundering through the cavernous hall. The doors at the back of the arena slammed closed, the soldiers unable to hear the telltale sound of the locks over their noisy chainmail.
As he ascended the stairs of the stage, Roann shook hands with the general before turning to face the crowd. The soldiers whooped in unison as the emperor raised his fist in solidarity. After a moment of cheers, he quieted them with a gesture of his hands.
“Thank you, General Rayl, and thank you soldiers of the Vrelin army! You’re in fine form today!”
Cheers once again erupted, prompting Roann to wait until the general calmed the soldiers down. He finally spoke again.
“You are the pride of the empire, the protectors of all we hold dear. Your unmatched bravery is known to the far reaches of the land!”
The garrisons replied with thunderous applause.
“Time and time again, you have fulfilled your duties, never once flinching in the face of danger.”
A soldier in the front row snorted, knowing his job was anything but dangerous. There was no war, no enemies that required complicated sorties or advanced tactics. Yes, the soldiers of the Vrelin army were there to protect should the need arise—but when had that ever happened? They all enjoyed the good things the military life had to offer: great pay, travel, and the respect of the nation. Everywhere they went, soldiers were greeted with open arms, broad smiles, and more free meals than they could ever ask for.
Roann continued to smother his troops with praise, ensuring that each and every one of them was completely enthralled by his charismatic words. The soldiers allowed themselves to be drawn in, eagerly accepting the accolades heaped upon them. He went on about duty, privilege, and loyalty. About the common man looking up to the powerful soldier, and the honor that warriors lived with and abided by.
“… and we know not what the future holds, my good men and women,” Roann gestured wide with his arms, “but the nation is lucky to have you to uphold our ideals no matter what the cost!”
The crowd cheered loudly, some banging their weapons against their shields in celebratory clatter.
No one noticed the emperor’s eyes turn black.
The air in the coliseum took on a deathly chill as the back doors blew open, seemingly of their own accord, a red fog whirling in on a torrent of wind. It surrounded the soldiers, prompting them to draw their weapons to defend themselves at a mom
ent’s notice. It seeped into their noses and down their throats. They were too busy trying to escape the wretched fog to notice anything else.
In the midst of the chaos, Roann pulled a dagger from his doublet and slit General Rayl’s throat.
Moments later, the soldiers’ destiny came full circle, as an ominous figure appeared beside their possessed emperor.
The warriors didn’t have time to react.
~~~
“The quicker you help me pull up this chest, the quicker you can be away from the centipedes!” Kaia’s voice was irritated.
Jaric shrieked as a centipede skittered down his armored leg, his hands feverishly brushing it away before stomping on it. Ryris and Grildi stood watch, holding torches to illuminate the dark alcove off one of the crumbling mine shafts. They didn’t try and hide their laughter.
“Shut up, or you’ll both be permanent residents of this mine!” Jaric’s voice was both angry and terrified at the same time. He cautiously slunk beside the hole Kaia was in, poring over every inch of the mine’s surfaces before settling in to help.
The ground was muddy, rainwater dripping in from cracks lining the walls. Murky water pooled at their feet, and the musty smell of stagnation surrounded them. Every so often, small rumbles would rattle the shaft, a stark reminder of the unstable nature of the entire mine.
“Grab it by the handle and yank!” Kaia’s face was flushed as she commanded her partner to heave the container upwards. Her hair stuck to her face, her armor splattered with mud and debris.
“I’m trying! The…handle’s…stu—“ Jaric yelped, dropped the case, and frantically wiped at his neck. It would seem there had been an intruder in his personal space of the hundred-legged variety.
“Damn it, Jaric!” Kaia’s voice was strained as she struggled to keep hold of the chest. It started to slip from her wet hands.
“They bite!” Jaric flailed as the insect went flying away from him, cast aside by a fearful toss. He reached into the pit to liberate their prize and pulled with a mighty grunt. Jaric ended up on his backside, armor splashing in a cloudy puddle. The chest teetered precariously on the edge of the hole, threatening to plummet back down and squash Kaia. Grildi noticed, dashed forward, and gave the box one more giant tug, ensuring his friend was out of harm’s way. Then he leaned down and extended a hand to the filthy subterranean warrior.
When Kaia was safely out of the hole, she took a moment to catch her breath before trying the locked latch. It stuck steadfast, and she scowled at her lack of progress. Offering his assistance, Grildi knelt down and smashed the lock with his fist, a prideful smile gracing his lips. With a grateful chuckle, Kaia lifted the lid, exposing a glittering crystal shard.
“That’s five.” She retrieved the piece from the chest and handed it to Jaric.
Wrapping it in a swatch of linen and mindful of the jagged edge, he placed it in his knapsack. After helping Kaia to her feet, he slung the pack over his back and turned to his friends. All three sets of eyes were locked on him, widening in surprise. Grildi brought a hand up to cover his mouth.
“What?”
Ryris gingerly pointed at the soldier, his finger trembling. “Ummm…Jaric?”
“What?” His voice wavered.
“So, don’t panic or anything, but…”
The formerly brave warrior screamed like a small child as a dozen centipedes scurried out of the knapsack and skittered down his chest plate.
CHAPTER THIRTY
“Harvest only that which will bring life, leaving the dregs to rot in the fields. For you will reap a bigger bounty with proper fertilizer than should you go without.”
-- Philosopher’s saying, pre-Old War. Source unknown.
The crisp winter air kissed Keld.
Leaves, having finally changed their colors weeks prior, had begun to fall from their treetop homes, fluttering to the ground on wispy currents. The sun glared, reflecting off the fountain pools dotting the city. The threat of snow, already blanketing much of the northern portions of the Vrelin Empire, wouldn’t rear its ugly head for months still. Being located in the southern part of the central plains had its advantages.
A festival was in full swing, the citizens enjoying themselves to the fullest. Residents milled about in the central park, the aroma of roasted nuts and grilling meats wafting around the promenade. Children shrieked with delight as a band of roving jesters did acrobatics. Onlookers gawked in awe at a caged saberstrike on display.
High above, Roann watched from his private balcony, thinking to himself that they had no idea what was about to happen. Blissfully unaware. The antique clock on his desk chimed, and he smirked. In an hours’ time, the people of his city would be called to order, with the promise of an address from their beloved emperor. The culmination of a weekend of parties celebrating winter’s arrival, Roann’s speech would usher in a new era for Keld—and his empire.
Today he would make the people see the truth—and they would cower before him and his master. The very last shred of decency and morals had left Roann the moment he struck his mother. His transformation was complete. He felt alive, reborn. No longer would his conscience get in the way of glory.
Taking one more look down upon his city, Roann finally went back inside, his eyes flashing black for a split second.
~~~
The royal trumpeters sounded and the citizens of Keld filled the square in front of the palace. Thousands filed in joyously, with pleasantly full bellies from a day of eating, warmed from the inside-out from celebratory drinking. Children rode atop their fathers’ shoulders to get a better view of their emperor, residents assisted the elderly and made sure they could see around the crowd. They waited patiently for their monarch to appear, excitement bubbling through their ranks. Every year, at the end of the winter carnival, Roann would make a glorious speech about prosperity and peace, and proclaim the city of Keld ready for the changing seasons.
The sun was setting in the western sky, casting a brilliant red hue across thin, wispy clouds. A brisk wind blew up; carrying the chilled air from the mountains with it, and the citizens collectively huddled together for warmth. Palace guards came out of their barracks towers and surrounded the crowd. In their excitement, no one seemed to notice.
The massive bronze bell in the clock tower rang, and the crowd immediately hushed. Moments later, the castle doors opened, producing their beloved emperor. Arms raised high to greet his subjects, Roann smiled broadly as he exited the palace. The citizens kneeled. Coming to a halt just before the grand staircase that had seen his coronation several months prior, he took a moment to gaze out at the people. He closed his eyes for a few seconds and inhaled purposefully, a wave of calm washing over him. Soon, there would be panic—beautiful, satisfying panic.
He finally bid his citizens to rise and they cheered with thunderous applause. He allowed them to shower him with their love and attention before quieting them with a simple hand gesture. No one seemed to find it odd that both Eilith and Father Morigar were absent.
“It’s a perfect day to celebrate a successful harvest, wouldn’t you agree?” Roann’s voice boomed across the square. The citizens cheered in response, clapping and whistling. “This year has seen the most incredible bounty in recent history from our fields and orchards. The harbor filled our nets to the brim to ensure that we have enough for our winter stockpiles!”
The crowd erupted in jubilant celebration. Flags waved and balloons floated up toward the Gentle Reach.
“My father wanted what’s best for this city and the empire, and I am no different! I see great potential in our community, and if we work together and continue on this path, Keld will grow and prosper tenfold!” Roann spread his arms wide as he continued. “You’ve given the city a great gift: self-sufficiency. Keld does not need to rely on any outside influences to survive. Our successes come from within, our strength in numbers. We look out to the rest of the world and see hidden potential, for those who live outside our walls have yet to experience the glo
ry that is Keld! This nation has been divided, even though you don’t realize it. I feel I have failed in that regard, that the upper class and nobility have lost sight of their roots, become out of touch with the more common folk. And, in reverse, the average person has become so far-removed from the rich that they feel no connection with their fellow countrymen! I am ashamed, as you should be as well. We must all be united together, for we all have the same blood in our veins. Ignorance and obliviousness has impacted the world—much more than you will ever know.”
The crowd began to murmur, never before hearing their emperor speak ill of any of them or their empire. But still, they held their attention on his every word, knowing—hoping—that whatever he was getting at would make sense in the end. For their entire lives, the citizens of Keld, and the Vrelin Empire, had lived under the notion that they were prosperous, tolerant, and obedient. Everyone in the nation did their duty to home and country, and only wanted to make their emperor proud. And yet—he was telling them it wasn’t enough. That he wasn’t satisfied with them, or their hard work. The residents began to feel uneasy.
“We are on the precipice of a new Keld, a new empire! My father would have resisted outside help. Balked had anyone dared to suggest another hand stirring the pot could be anything more than an unwelcome intrusion. Well—” Roann’s voice deepened, his face falling slack with a stern expression. “…I am not my father.”
Silence fell over the crowd, flags no longer waving. Parents took their children down from their shoulders as their emperor’s voice took on a dark undertone. Their attention went to the skies, where the vibrant pinks and purples of the sunset had been replaced with shadowy, ominous clouds seemingly out of nowhere. When they turned their attention back to Roann a moment later, his eyes had gone black.
The Alchemist: Dawn of Destiny Page 40