by R. T. Cole
“That’s what you’re worried about?” Cyrus asked incredulously.
Sadness washed over Thasus’s face. “Only partially,” he admitted. “Your Grace, the other Northerners are planning to rise up against you. I discovered a plot between the Brocks and the Gargans,” he explained.
After taking the time to hear out the Prince on his time as a prisoner at the Frostford, as well as the planned execution at the hands of Fenrok, the King was thoughtful in his response.
“I believe you,” he said. He stood up with purpose and addressed the issue. “The forces of Whitecrest combined with the forces of Hailstone Hold will repel their attacks.”
Thasus shook his head. “It will not be enough,” he advised. Thinking of the reason he came to the North in the first place, he began to grow tired of the pettiness of its people. Like he mentioned to Lord Brock, the North should’ve banded together to face Kelbain; instead, they’re wasting time. It occurred to him that if they were going to get the North to aid them in the more important war, then maybe the North needed help first. “King Cyrus, allow me to send word to my father,” Thasus declared. “He will send you aid in this matter.”
Cyrus scoffed. “You’re mistaken, Thasus. Your father is more than aware of my disdain for his brother-in-law. I’m sure that King Vandal has no love for me either.” A hint of fear and despair sprawled along his features. He tried to hide it from Thasus, but couldn’t mask his anxiety.
“Your Grace, please put aside your pride this one time. Do you want to see Whitecrest fall?” Catching the flinch at his words, Thasus pressed on. “We can help you, Cyrus. Let us do this.”
King Cyrus considered him for a moment, thinking of how funny it was that he had yelled at the Prince just recently about his uncle. Thasus, it seems, is not like that cur, Cyrus admitted. Pacing throughout the bedchamber, Cyrus stopped in front of the white curtain on the window. Looking out on his city, he thought carefully of his next decision. He didn’t want to bring pain and suffering to his people; he wanted to make his mother and his son proud. His eyes glistened in the sunlight that poured into the room, and he turned to Thasus with his ruling.
“Write to your father, Prince Thasus. Please inform the East King: The North King requests his aid against the rebellion of the Brocks and the Gargans. Tell him that if he sends us reinforcements, we will aid in the war against Kelbain once the fighting in the North is finished.”
It’s a start; Thasus smiled broadly as he felt the satisfaction of acquiring an ally after everything he went through. It wasn’t the ally that he planned on, but it was the one they would have either way. His father would be more than stunned at this turn of events, given his words about the King before Thasus departed Angelia.
‘Impossible to please’, indeed.
Chapter 25
BREAK IN THE JOURNEY
Rudimere and his party had arrived. Squall’s End – it was originally the tower where the four kings of Areon would meet and discuss important matters. At times, the men would need to overcome their differences and make decisions based on the betterment of the world; but it wasn’t meant to stay that way. After Magor appeared in Areon, the tower became nothing more than a ruin, remembered for its splendor and nostalgia. It was said that all four corners of Areon could be seen from the top of the tower. Whether this was myth or fact, people were always curious how far they could extend their sight up there.
“How far should we climb?” Rudi asked the others. He had no intention of taking in the sights, though he was amazed at how large this single tower stood; he was only concerned with remaining as inconspicuous as possible. Once it became dark, they’d have no trouble blending into the dark gray structure. It was Ashra who chimed in.
“I want to see the top,” she could barely contain her excitement. At first, she didn’t even want to travel to Squall’s End, but figured she’d make the best of her first time there.
“I’ll accompany you,” Jasian offered.
Ashra shot him a nasty look. “No, you won’t,” she said in an unpleasant tone. She began to ascend the steps on her own.
Jasian lowered his head in disappointment, but caught sight of Paxton’s smirk instead. Before Jasian could react, the others started ascending the steps as well. Following Rudi, Merroc, and Mika, he could only think of how much he wanted to speak with Ashra and clear the air. Jasian thought of how unfortunate it was that Paxton was acting so childish, but focused on what he would say to Ashra. When they scaled the stairs for a while, they reached a break, a landing, before the next set of steps. They decided to make camp there. While the others began their next conversation, Jasian continued to climb.
“Rudi,” Merroc started. “Why stall any further? Are we heading to Summerhold or not?” Noticing a flicker of hesitation on Rudi’s face, Merroc added, “You know I’m right.”
Rudi had been contemplating this decision for days on end. He was being indecisive, he knew that, but wanted to make the right choice. He wasn’t used to having so much responsibility; in fact, he was awfully new to it, but he knew that he’d have to act soon.
“Do you not think that King Wilfred will side with us?” Merroc attempted to find reasoning for Rudi’s delay.
“No, I believe he definitely will,” Rudi replied. “But it’s Ashra I’m worried about. She wants to go to Triton.”
“Rudi, be honest: if we just sent a letter to Triton, would it be the worst thing in the world? Ashra is already with us; Lord Abacus is not going to deny your father when his own daughter is part of Prince Rudimere’s Dragoons,” he said subtly.
Rudi laughed. “This is very true,” he admitted. He knew this already, but he wavered because he knew in his heart that Ashra might leave on her own if they decided to go to Summerhold instead of Triton first.
“Besides,” Merroc continued. “Speaking in terms of sheer numbers, we all know that Summerhold has a larger army. It’s the seat of the South, after all.”
It was apparent that Merroc wouldn’t drop the topic. But, Rudi knew that it was time. He knew that they had to keep moving, and this was the only course that made sense. They all truly knew that.
“All right, cousin,” Rudimere said. “We’ll send out a letter to Lord Abacus and make him aware of our intentions. At the same time, we’ll make sure he knows that Ashra is with us.” Depending on what she decides after finding out about this, Rudi pondered. He nodded his head with finality. “Tomorrow, we set out for Summerhold.”
CRUNCH
Rudi and Merroc looked over at Mika, recognizing the familiar sound.
“What?” Mika said as he suddenly realized how loud his chewing was.
“You’re coming with us, right?” Rudi inquired.
“Ahh,” Mika uttered. “I’ll be honest, friends: I’m not about to get involved any longer.” The statement took Rudi and Merroc by complete surprise. Even Paxton ruffled in confusion by the fire.
“Wait... why?” Rudi asked.
Mika sighed. “Listen, I have no stake in who wins this war. I’ve fought enough of someone else’s wars to last a lifetime.”
“Why don’t you fight for love?” Merroc jested. “Isn’t that what you told me? ‘Sometimes love is all that’s worth fighting for’; you must have something that you love enough to join our fight,” Merroc tried his best to convince Mika.
Heartache presented itself on Mika’s face. “I did love once. My family was everything to me,” he opened up to the group. “But they’re gone and I’m still here.” Mika sat down, reflecting on his past. He knew that Merroc didn’t mean any harm by dredging up old wounds, but Mika hadn’t been reminded of his lost loved ones in a while.
“I’ll stay until you’ve all settled; I’ll even get some rest alongside you, but in the morning I will take my leave,” Mika decided.
It wasn’t long until Rudi realized that his companions were all splitting, whether it was physically or emotionally. Mika was heading out in the morning to forge his own path; Jasian, Ashra, and Paxton wer
e still at odds with one another, though Rudi still believed that Ashra would set off on her own after finding out about the decision to go to Summerhold. Strangely enough, Rudi found comfort in knowing that Merroc seemed unfazed by the current environment.
Speaking candidly, Rudimere said to Merroc, “You know, you’ve always had more responsibility than me; and you’re younger,” Rudi said amusingly. “Your father has a lot of faith in your abilities.”
Merroc made a gesture of modesty. “Fathers sometimes focus too much on their oldest children, leaving the youngest ones to doubt themselves.”
His cousin spoke truly. Growing up, Rudi had always felt ignored by his father. He knew that Thasus and Andemar received the majority of the attention, while he received nothing but the feeling of being held back. Before he left Angelia, he was thankful that his father finally trusted him with a task as important as the one he was asked to carry out. But, a part of him still felt that he needed to clear up the past with his father and brothers. For a fleeting moment he thought that he might not see them again, but in his heart he knew he would; for now, he was happy to be in the company of his friends and family.
“I’m sorry, Merroc,” Rudi apologized.
“For what?” Merroc wondered.
“I’m sorry that your father forced you to come along with us,” Rudi said. “I know it wasn’t easy to leave your home.”
Merroc smiled at Rudi. “I’m not sorry,” he said. “It wasn’t easy at first, but being out here with you all – facing what we’ve faced and knowing what we’re going to accomplish – it’s all worth it.”
Just a few more steps, she thought, feeling the wind begin to rush in from the top of the tower. When Ashra reached the pinnacle, she allowed every feeling to course through her. What she felt as she gazed out onto the plains of Areon was not happiness, not even sadness, but pure bliss. Ashra had lived her entire life in service of her father, the infamous Abacus Argon, and in all those days, amidst the training, the battles, the drinking, she had never experienced a moment like the one on the tower of Squall’s End.
It’s so beautiful. You’d never even know what was truly going on down there, she thought sadly. For an instant, she could swear that she caught sight of Angelia in the far distance, past the mountains around Stoneshield. Closer than that, she could easily see Whitecrest on top of its stronghold of Hailstone Hold. Turning towards the other side of the edge, she glimpsed the wonder of Summerhold, which sat on top of its own mountaintop. She could only force a smile. She knew what the right course of action was, but selfishly she still wanted to see home again.
Suddenly, she had a notion. Turning around again, she peered over the edge of the tower, searching for any signs. Fixing her gaze in the East, she skimmed the shores until she found it: home. Triton sat on the beaches, past the tall structure of Evermount, a large, thriving and bustling city that also doubled as one of the ports on the Eastern shore. Tears welled up in her eyes.
I miss you, father.
“Ashra,” a voice called out.
Startled, Ashra turned and saw the face that had given her much joy in the past – and more recently, anguish.
“I told you not to come up here,” she scolded Jasian.
“Right,” he dismissed. “But we need to talk.”
“Go away,” she said, turning back towards the view of Triton. She felt Jasian approach her side, and she instantly felt safe. She cursed at herself because she wanted to feel anything else, and didn’t want to be toyed with.
“We’ve talked enough, Jasian. I think you made it perfectly clear that...“
“I was wrong,” he interjected. Jasian saw the confused look on her face and resolved to continue. “I should’ve returned your affections; many times by now. I’ve always felt the same way, Ashra; I just let duty get in the way,” he confessed.
Ashra shook her head, as she was taken aback by his admission. After a moment, Ashra formed a wide smile and joked. “You know I could toss you right over the edge here and no one would complain. Well, maybe Merroc - maybe not,” she laughed. She pressed closer to Jasian and grew more serious. “And if I ever became your wife, I should be your duty first.”
Jasian smiled back at her, looking into the eyes as blue as the ocean in front of him. They had not broached the topic of marriage for many years; not since the last night they gave themselves to one another and he had left her bedchamber in the dead of night without a word. It was a memory that Jasian didn’t like to relive, as it only reminded him of the shame he carried, but he knew that he owed her an explanation. “One thing at a time,” he replied before sharing a kiss with Ashra. Time stood still for a moment, and the two of them were inseparable.
Ashra allowed one eye to open, as she faintly heard the galloping of horses close by. She unlocked her lips from Jasian’s and looked down; in the short distance, she saw a figure descending their horse in front of the tower. That wasn’t the sound I heard, she thought bewildered. Past the lone figure, she saw it: a host of soldiers approaching.
Jasian had caught on to the situation. “We have to go,” he said, as he and Ashra swiftly began their descent down the staircase.
Chapter 26
BATTLE AT SQUALL’S END
Dirce walked toward the tower with conviction. After her feat at Coalfell, she felt like she could accomplish anything. With Nightfall in her hands, she wondered how much power she truly beheld. Knowing all about the tower at Squall’s End, she formed a new plan – one that transcended what she and Zane could have ever dreamed of.
Spotting the soldiers that slept near the entrance, she noticed that they all wore the garb of Eastern cities. Curious, she chose to sneak past them and ascend the steps, rather than take them on. With a bit of caution, she changed her appearance into that of a Southern soldier. Before she entered, however, she turned and saw a small host heading her way.
Impossible, she denied. Zenithor troops had followed her, and even more improbable, they found her. This doesn’t change anything, she thought, as she regained her composure. Making her way up the stairs, she heard the crackling of a burning fire nearby. Though it was daytime, it was certainly cold enough to warrant a fire; but curiosity took her again and she wondered who was inside the tower.
“More soldiers,” she brushed off.
Finally, she found the landing in the middle of the staircase and the fire – surrounded by an interesting band of men. They looked her way and became instantly alarmed.
“Who are you?” the man in white armor and a blue cloak asked.
Quickly, she made up a story. “I’m a soldier with the army of Summerhold,” she lied. “I’m being followed by some men from the West.” Selling the lie further, she panted and acted out of breath, as if she were truly panicked by the Western forces headed their way.
“They’re heading here now?” the man with the black bear on his chest plate said, rising up.
Dirce had to stop herself from getting flustered. That man was big enough to knock a horse down with his bare hands, or so she imagined. “Yes,” she said. “I can’t fight them off on my own,” she dramatized.
The man in the blue cloak looked to the others and nodded. This one seems to be the leader, she told herself. Before the man could say anything, another figure stood up and spoke.
“She’s lying,” the man said, his worn clothes draping over his body like he hadn’t worn anything else in years. Then, she caught a glimpse of the man’s face, through the tattered hair that the man brushed aside.
“Mika?” she asked, caught off guard.
Mika had a stern look on his face. “I may have only been a soldier of Zenithor, but I know when an Illusionist such as you is working their tricks.”
The supposed Southern soldier laughed. “You always did know how to break through my charms,” she said while changing back to her true self; her simple spear had also reverted back into Nightfall.
The others looked on in astonishment, while Mika focused on the spear that Dirce he
ld. “You’re moving up in the world, carrying a weapon like that.”
“It was a gift from the people of Coalfell,” she taunted. “No one will ever lay claim to me again; no one will treat me like a slave ever again,” she proclaimed.
“You were a whore,” Mika said bluntly. “A whore who made the rounds within Zenithor’s camps. No one ever really made you do it. You have the power to control people; I’m sure that you’ve had a fun time doing so,” he accused her as she looked on him with hatred. “You always tried to reach higher than you could, Dirce.”
“I was to be a Queen!” Dirce screamed. “But, it would’ve just been another form of enslavement,” she admitted. “I was in love with the King’s son; now he’s gone and I have nothing left to lose.” She surprised herself with how much she opened up, but she and Mika did have a tumultuous past.
Mika drew his battle-axe. “You use your power for dark purposes; you’ll get no sympathy from me. Perhaps it’s best to put an end to your miserable life now,” the Sageslayer threatened.
Tilting her head, she smiled wickedly. Her moment of feeling sorry for herself was over. “How will you kill me when you’re too busy fighting these strong-looking men?” Immediately, she felt the shift of power, forcing her way into the minds of the other men in the room.
Kill Mika. Kill him for me, she commanded them. As the men hesitantly drew their weapons, they attacked Mika while Dirce stood there and laughed.
Mika was holding his own for a minute until the big man bore down on him, using the hilt of his sword to knock Mika to the ground.
“Merroc, don’t!” Mika yelled. Merroc’s greatsword fell towards Mika, but another sword blocked it from connecting.
“Brother, stop!” Jasian urged Merroc.
Dirce turned in shock, as a new presence was about to unleash their fury on her. The Zenithorian woman briskly parried with Nightfall. She fought off the blonde woman as best she could, but was strangely impressed with the ferocity she displayed. At the same time, Dirce began to lose control of the men she had enslaved. When she saw them start to regain their senses, she focused heavily on Merroc. Still, she had a bit of control over the other raven-haired man who attacked the man in the blue cloak.