The Cessation of Karrak: Ascension III (The Karrak Trilogy Part Three Book 3)

by Robert J Marsters

  “So, what did the Heart teach you? How do you hope to destroy the Elixian Soul?” asked Emnor, backtracking on their conversation.

  “That’s not important now,” replied Jared. “Just know that, when the time comes, I will succeed.”

  “What happened to Xarran?” asked Harley, quietly.

  “He must have fallen under Karrak’s spell, when he….”

  “I mean, his body,” said Harley, raising his voice as he interrupted Emnor.

  Emnor paused momentarily, “We… we’re not sure, Harley. Our intention was to deal with him in exactly the same way as Yello.” His voice cracked as he mentioned his friend’s name.

  “We don’t know!” Hannock announced loudly. “We went to retrieve it, but it had vanished. There were drag marks on the ground. It seems that we didn’t get all of his ghoulish accomplices, they must have taken it amidst all the confusion.”

  Drake shuddered, “You don’t think they’ll turn him into one of them do you? I don’t know if I could handle that. Imagine coming face to face with someone you knew looking like… that!”

  “No… let’s not. We have quite enough to deal with without letting our imaginations run riot,” suggested Emnor.

  “Nothin’ to worry about anyway,” mumbled Grubb. “They’re all dried up ain’t they? Ye can squash ‘em easy enough and ye wouldn’t need a hammer anywhere near as big as Lodren’s.”

  The rest of the companions glared at him in disbelief.

  “Oooh Grubb, how could you say such a thing?” exclaimed Lodren. “He was our friend.”

  “No, it wasn’t!” snapped Grubb. “The lad you knew ‘ad been gone a long time. What ye saw out there weren’t no friend o’ yours, or mine. Ye saw the way ‘e behaved, the way ‘e spoke! If ye cast yer mind back it might remind ye of someone! Whoever he was, he would’ve ‘appily killed us all without a care. If Faylore wasn’t as good a shot as she is, the end could’ve been a lot worse!”

  “So what’s the plan?” said Drake, loudly. “Do we set out after them?”

  “Of course we do,” growled Hannock. “And we don’t stop until we’ve destroyed them all, and that includes Karrak.”

  The last person anyone expected to offer an opinion was Faylore. Throughout many conversations during their time together and regardless of topic, she had remained silent, but this time was different. The guilt of having to kill what had once been a confident, caring young man, despite what he had become, was weighing heavily on her.

  “Charles,” she said calmly, “it is unlike me, but I too yearn for revenge. The loss of our friends is a burden we shall not endure lightly, but I am afraid, for now, it is what we must do. Our minds are clouded and that could lead to any one of us making rash decisions or taking irrational, impulsive actions that could lead to further losses. For now, we shall bide our time and allow ourselves to grieve. Only once we are fully prepared, shall we seek out our enemy. Then, together, we shall strike a blow to end the madness that Karrak has brought to our world.”

  CHAPTER 13

  The days that followed were a difficult time. Still residing at the inn, the companions would set out into the forest each morning to hone their skills as they saw fit.

  Many posts met their end as Hannock, cursing aloud, hacked them into nothing more than wood shavings with his blade and peppered others with holes as he practiced with his crossbow.

  Harley and Drake, at a safe distance of course, held their wands and froze their targets solid or incinerated them. Drake was beginning to act far more sensibly than he ever had before and would advise Harley occasionally on his technique. Harley was, of course, Harley. He looked upon Drake’s advice as being constructive, although the desired effect was actually for his spells to be more de-structive.

  Faylore preferred to train alone and would be gone for hours at a time; Jared would meditate; and poor Emnor would sit, quietly reminiscing. His thoughts were mostly of Yello and occasionally a faint smile would curl the corners of his lips. Other memories however would cause tears to well in his eyes before they trickled slowly down his wrinkled cheeks.

  There was no practical way that Grubb could practice his transformation skills, choosing, most days, to change into a hawk and watch Lodren from above. The Nibby wielded his hammer as if it were as light as a feather, his tree-felling providing the many posts that Hannock required.

  The Gerrowliens had to be very careful when selecting a bough in which to nap when Lodren was about.

  Two more weeks passed, and the hunt began anew. The innkeeper gave a huge sigh of relief as the door closed behind the last of the companions and he began to dance a little jig, this due partly by their departure, but mostly to the large pile of gold coins Hannock had placed on the bar to cover any inconvenience they may have caused him. Rubbing his hands together briefly, he scooped them into his raised apron, “And don’t bloody well come back!” he mumbled.

  ***

  They had set camp at the end of their first day. The companions lowered themselves wearily around the campfire, except Lodren, who scampered about eager to cater for his friends.

  “I must say,” began Emnor, “I do believe that village life has softened me up a little, I’m exhausted.”

  “Either that, or the million years you’ve been alive is starting to catch up with you,” laughed Drake.

  “Ignore the runt!” growled Grubb. “Ye don’t look a day over half a million,” he added with a grin.

  Emnor gave Grubb a look of disdain, “I believe Maddleton can be sufficiently obnoxious without your support, Grubb,” he mumbled sleepily. “So, if you don’t mind, keep…” His voice tailed off as he yawned loudly. His mouth closed, as did his eyes, and he began to snore gently.

  “Poor Mr Emnor,” sighed Lodren, “he really was exhausted. Oh well, I’ll keep his supper warm, he can have it later. It’s an old trick I learned ages ago, you simply wrap the food in a scrap of glamoch hide and keep it close to the fire. The secret is not to put it too close because that would make it too dry…” Suddenly, Lodren also began yawning loudly.

  What’s wrong with you lot!” exclaimed Hannock. “A gentle stroll and you’re all worn out! Imagine what you’d be like if I’d had you marching all day, at least you’d have a real reason to be tired.” Nobody responded. Hannock glanced around for a few seconds, then his eyes closed, and he fell face first into the ground.

  Jared was left alone. The others had not noticed the faint mist as it began to shroud each one of them in turn. Jared had realised immediately that it was no natural fog. It was a vapour that seemed to move with purpose, yet he felt no alarm. Something deep within compelled him to allow events to unfold, as to intervene could be far more dangerous.

  A familiar voice came from the darkness beyond the camp, “They look so peaceful,” it announced. “As safe as babes nestled in their mothers’ arms.”

  Jared raised his eyebrows, “But are they?” he asked, calmly. “They are defenceless, their only protection lies with me. But that is one thing of which you are undoubtedly aware, are you not, Karrak?”

  A sinister laugh echoed around the clearing. Karrak was still reticent to reveal himself. “Come now, Brother. If I had meant to harm them they would already be dead, you know that!”

  “An elaborate snare,” observed Jared. “But why? It is unlike you to be so gracious. Is it that you are wary of raising my ire? What reason requires the negation of any witnesses?”

  “Strange that you should choose the word ‘reason’, my brother, for that is why I am here. I come here, not to confront nor challenge you, quite the opposite. I came here in a bid to put an end to this conflict. You obviously have something in your possession which enhances your powers, something that rivals my own. Many more will die should we play this out, Brother. Whereas, if we were to combine our powers we may yet bring about a peaceful resolution.” Karrak had relented and approached Jared slowly. The light from the campfire cast ghostly shadows across his face. The person who stood before Jared wa
s his brother, not the shadow lord.

  Jared studied him for a moment. “Really?” he laughed mockingly. “You want me to join with you?” As he spoke, an aura had begun to glow gently around him. “I don’t know who you are, but I must commend you for your audacity.”

  “My offer is sincere, I only wish to bring peace to this world,” urged Karrak.

  Jared wagged his finger, “Now that’s where you’ve slipped up. You see, my brother is insane! He doesn’t want peace, he never did. He thrives on the pain and suffering of others, bathes in chaos and would have the screams of his victims as a lullaby!”

  “I am your brother! Join with me and allow me to show you that I am changed. Keep your trinket with you if you have mistrust in your heart… what is it that has corrupted you so? You should rid yourself of it before it consumes you, Brother. I could help you.”

  “At last!” exclaimed Jared. “That is the purpose behind your ruse! I have you scared, you want to know what you’re up against! Well you’re out of luck!” he announced, his voice getting louder. “You cannot win, and you know it. Well let me tell you this, whoever or whatever you are, you will face me! It will be at a time and in a place of my choosing. I swear, if you appear like a thief in the dead of night again, it will be the last time you appear anywhere! The answer is ‘no’, I will not join you, not now, not ever. Leave now while I allow it. Our final battle will come, but not yet!”

  “I understand,” replied Karrak, unphased by Jared’s warning. “You need to consider my offer. After all, time is plentiful. But, however shall I find you again?” he asked, almost leering as the enquiry left his lips. With a nonchalant wave of a hand and an insipid grin, he dismissed his own question. “Not to worry, I’m sure it won’t be too much of a problem. I know, I’ll send a messenger!” Karrak paused as if in thought. “Yes, a messenger, a peaceful envoy in the hope that you have made the right decision. Until then farewell, Brother,” Karrak bowed briefly as he backed away before vanishing into the darkness.

  An ominous silence had befallen the camp during Karrak’s impromptu visit, but now, the familiar night-time sounds returned; the hooting of an owl; the chirp of the insects; and the rustling of the undergrowth as small mammals searched for an evening meal.

  Jared smiled. Was Karrak so concerned that he would expose himself so readily? He shook his head. Yes, he himself had become far more powerful, but he was unable to read minds. He lay down near the campfire and closed his eyes. It was clear that no answers would be forthcoming, he would discuss it with the others the following morning.

  ***

  Jared watched his rousing companions. He should not have found the looks of confusion on their faces amusing, but did nonetheless.

  The campfire was somewhat diminished to what it had been the night before. Lodren immediately went into a panic at not having prepared breakfast for everyone before they awoke. “I’m so terribly sorry!” he babbled, “I don’t know what happened! I remember I was going to set some supper aside for Mr Emnor and then… well, nothing! I’ve never known anything like it! Mr Jared, can you forgive me? I promise it will never happen again.”

  Jared assured him that it had been no fault of his own and, after much persuasion, convinced him to sit with the others and listen to what he had to say. As he told them of the events of the previous night, they quickly found themselves fully awake as they listened intently.

  “Bloomin’ ‘eck, Jared! Why didn’t ye wake us up? We could’ve ‘ad ‘im!” growled Grubb.

  “You weren’t asleep, Grubb,” said Emnor, “you were somehow enchanted, as were we all. Only two things can awaken you from a forced sleep. Either the caster has to reverse it or you have to wait for it to wear off.”

  “Well ‘e could’ve at least tried,” argued Grubb.

  “You’re not helping, Grubb. Please be quiet.”

  Grubb looked sheepishly at Faylore, “I… I was just sayin’, Your Majesty,” he mumbled, before adding in a whisper, “’e could’ve tried.”

  “It’s no use worrying about it now,” said Drake, loudly. “But… we could change what happens next.”

  “Come on then, clever clogs, you’ve obviously got something rattling around inside that mental head of yours. We can’t see into the future… or do you possess a skill you haven’t informed us of?” asked Hannock.

  “We don’t have to see into the future, Captain Crabby, Karrak has already told us what’s going to happen,” replied Drake, tersely. “He’s going to send a messenger, he said that to you, right, Jared?”

  Jared nodded, knowing where Drake’s train of thought was headed.

  “So,” continued Drake, “we capture the messenger and find out where Karrak’s hiding. If we’re lucky, the messenger may even know what his plans are.”

  Hannock rubbed his hands together, “I like it!” he announced. “You’re a devious little git, Drake, but I like it.”

  Emnor sat forward and peered at Jared, “Don’t suppose he said when we should expect this messenger did he, or perhaps hinted at where he would appear?”

  “Unfortunately not, Emnor. He was very cryptic. He emphasised that it would be peaceful, and hoped I would make the right decision.”

  “My word, Mr Jared, you have got him scared!” Lodren said suddenly as he hurried away. “See, I listened, but it’s time for breakfast. I can’t let you start the day hungry.”

  ***

  The days passed, days that soon turned into weeks. There had been no sign of a message from Karrak and some found this a blessed relief. Others took it as a sign that, if and when the message did arrive, it would undoubtedly bode ill for them all. Each day was as tedious as the last. They would rise at daybreak, eat breakfast, search until dusk, camp, eat supper and sleep.

  One such day was drawing to a close and, as was a typical event, Emnor had fallen some distance behind his fellow travellers. Jared, as usual, slowed his pace in order to stay with him. Emnor was not ill, he’d never felt healthier, but something was missing. The loss of Yello told on him more and more as time went by and he was finding it difficult to focus on anything.

  “How are you doing, barmpot?” Jared asked him with a smile.

  “I’m fine, Jared! Stop fussing over me as if I were at death’s door!” replied Emnor.

  “Well why don’t you keep pace with the others then? Every day you do exactly the same thing. I’ve watched you. You slow down just enough to allow them to get ahead, but you then match their pace easily.”

  “Can’t an old man be left alone with his thoughts?” Emnor asked quietly.

  “There are times when that would be ill advised,” suggested Jared.

  “Well, they get on your bloody nerves after a while!” chuntered Emnor. “Prattling on as if we hadn’t a care in the world. And Drake! I swear I could throttle that boy some days!”

  “He is a bit of an acquired taste, I’ll give you that,” Jared laughed. “But he means no harm, it’s just his way of dealing with what he’s witnessed. He’s not like you and I, Emnor. We’ve seen and done things he could never comprehend, not yet anyway. It’s simply the inexperience of youth.”

  “That’s as the case may be, Jared, but to top it all, I still can’t get this poxy staff to work. It’s useless! I tried to perform a simple inferno spell with it a few days ago, you could barely see the wisp of smoke it produced, let alone the hint of a spark or flame!”

  Jared became a little evasive, “Maybe it just needs time, you know, getting used to its new master.”

  “Cobblers!” exclaimed Emnor, “Get used to its new master indeed! You know better than that, I taught you better than that! Perhaps I should hand it to Drake! I swear that lad could blow anything up with a bag of feathers and an old broomstick given half a chance!”

  “No!” Jared replied hurriedly. “You must not hand the staff to Drake!” Realising he had allowed an air of panic to overtake him, he tried to play down his response, “As you said, he can’t take anything seriously. He doesn’t have the
control to handle a staff as powerful as that.”

  Emnor studied Jared through squinted eyes, “Out with it!” he demanded, “There’s something you’re not telling me, Jared. Come on, tell me, why wouldn’t you want me to hand this staff to Drake? And I want the truth.”

  Jared rubbed his face with both hands and sighed. Before I begin, I want you to understand that, after careful consideration, I know that it was the only proper decision to be made and that’s why I did what I did.”

  “So glad you came straight to the point, it’s so annoying when people beat around the bush,” Emnor said quietly, before raising his voice to a bellow. “WHAT DID YOU DO?”

  “Drake has the entire knowledge that once belonged to Yello,” Jared replied through gritted teeth. This was not said angrily, more… begrudgingly, realising how Emnor would react.

  “HE HAS WHAT? JARED, HOW COULD YOU?” roared Emnor. “Knowledge and power of that magnitude could tear the boy apart! It could rip his very soul from his body! What were you thinking?”

  Jared held his hands in front of him to repel Emnor’s verbal attack. “Emnor, if I thought for one second that he would be harmed, in any way, I would never have considered it. The Heart of Ziniphar assured me that he was strong enough to receive it and that it was his destiny to become a wizard of legend.”

  “Have you gone mad? The Heart told you? That artefact is nothing more than an enhancement, Jared! It simply hones powers and only if the recipient allows it! There are few things as perilous.”

  “You’re wrong, Emnor. The Heart is alive. It has its own sense of purpose, its own thoughts, beliefs and feelings,” Jared argued. Suddenly, he frowned, “What was that about it being perilous?”

  “What?” replied Emnor, raising his eyebrows and attempting to look innocent. “Oh, that! Nothing, it’s not important, put it out of your mind.”

  “So, I’m not the only one who has made omissions when relaying information by the sound of things.”