by R. T. Cole
“Snap out of it, Paxton!” the man pleaded. Suddenly, Paxton was on the ground in a hurry. Mika had recovered in time to knock him out.
“Are you well, Prince Rudimere?” Mika toyed with him, using formalities.
“Even during battle,” Rudi jokingly pointed out, shaking his head.
Mika shrugged. “I think you know me by now,” he replied. Mika glanced over at the ensuing fights in the room. “We should help Ashra,” he offered. A second later, he realized that Dirce was showing fear as she battled with Ashra; the woman of Triton fought with much skill.
“I think she’ll be okay,” Rudi countered. “Come on,” he said, as he and Mika went to help Jasian instead.
The two brothers from Stoneshield fought relentlessly. Merroc, under the control of Dirce, was fighting with anger and rage rather than his normal skills. Jasian could only deflect, as he did not want to harm his older brother.
“Merroc, please, you must awake,” Jasian begged.
Merroc roared again, pounding his greatsword down on Jasian’s weapon. He heaved and huffed, his strength depleting. Jasian took note of this, but also saw the look in his brother’s eyes: Merroc may not have been in control, but he could see what he was doing.
With realization dawning on him, Jasian muttered, “I need to get you away from her.” As Rudi and Mika joined the fight, Jasian urged them, “We need to head out now!” The other men nodded in agreement, but everything became more complicated as a few soldiers ran into the room.
“Zenithor,” Mika groaned. Without hesitating, Mika took up his axe and slammed it into the nearest soldier, while he saw Rudi slash another with his sword, kicking the screaming man into the fire. Even as the soldiers poured in, they followed Jasian’s lead. The men quickly ran down the steps, hoping to gain the advantage outside in an open environment, thought they weren’t aware of Jasian’s intention. As they set foot on the grass, they were met by a man, standing in front of another handful of soldiers, with their own Dragoons spread out on the ground before them.
Rudi became saddened that his remaining soldiers were killed, but before he let his guilt swallow him, he held up his sword in defiance. “You’ll pay for this, you bastard,” he cursed the man. But, it was Mika who became uncharacteristically enraged.
“YOU!” Mika shouted.
Draven Darkwood formed a deep smile of enjoyment. “This day just keeps getting better and better,” he provoked. Mika was on him quick. Draven blocked the barrage of attacks with his sword, knowing he was the more experienced fighter.
Concurrently, Rudi battled the Zenithorian soldiers, while Jasian continued to fend off Merroc, disappointed that the plan to oust him from Dirce didn’t work.
Mika attacked his enemy rapidly, but Draven was more than a match for him. His parents’ killer laughed in his face, and he was instantly brought back to that fateful night. After witnessing the death of his mother and father, he watched helplessly as Draven chuckled in amusement before leaving the village with his soldiers.
“Never again,” he told Draven through his teeth as he sprung back to the fight at hand. With a deft stroke of his battle-axe, he connected with Draven’s arm. The Evolutionary laughed off the wound.
“Fool! Don’t you know what I am?” Draven mocked.
“You’re a murderer,” Mika said brusquely.
Draven smiled. “Yes, well, I’m not exactly a fan of killing, boy,” he said. “Sure, these days I’m paid to do it, but I’ve always executed those who deserve it,” he explained.
The comment spurred Mika to continue his attack, which then prompted Draven to sigh and defend once again. For a moment, Draven considered why he wasn’t healing from his wound, and even more so, what material Mika’s axe was made out of, that it would even cut him.
At the entrance of the tower, Ashra appeared, without Dirce at her back. The thought stuck in her head since her battle with the Illusionist: “While you fight me, your friends could really use your help,” Dirce had convinced her. Ashra had felt guilty for being so blind to her surroundings and made her way down the tower to join the fight outside. Unknown to her, Dirce had made her way outside and continued to control only Merroc during the battle, as she crept on the sidelines.
Draven, now enraged by the mystery of his wound, fought Mika in an unhinged state. “What have you done?!” he screamed.
Ignoring the threat, Mika yelled back, “I will have your head!”
At the other end of the battle, Jasian struggled to keep Merroc at bay; he was being mercilessly overwhelmed. As his older brother gained the upper hand, another figure jumped into the battle.
“What in Mistif is going on?” Paxton asked with consternation. Jasian was baffled.
The soldiers of Zenithor battled with Rudimere and Ashra until there were at least four left. Rudi felt a swell of success as things started to go so well, until he saw one of the men take up a crossbow. His eyes lit up as the man aimed at Ashra.
“No!” he cried. Putting himself in front of Ashra, Rudi felt the arrow hit his chest. His eyes were closed, thinking of the last time he had been hit with an arrow. Not again was the only thought he could muster. Looking down at the wound in his chest, he was amazed that there was no wound to be found. His eyes reached further down and he saw the arrow had shattered into pieces and hit the ground. Astonished, he raised his head and stared at the archer, who was just as shocked as he was.
A moment later, Ashra ran to the archer and slit his throat before he could fire again. “The others are retreating,” she said exhaustingly. She took a deep breath and forced herself to look at the pieces of iron that were once in the form of an arrow. “What happened?” she asked Rudi. He was just as confused as she was.
Mika and Draven had made their way back into the tower, as their epic duel traveled up the staircase. Blow after blow, they couldn’t get the best of each other. Draven was still angry and his tiredness from the battle was starting to show. It was enough to allow another slice to appear, this time on Draven’s midsection. He yelled in frustration as he kicked Mika in the gut, almost sending the man down the stairs.
Mika persisted after Draven, heading all the way to the tower’s apex. The men panted as the battle came to a halt. Mika could only glare in Draven’s direction.
“After all this time,” Draven started. “You still want your revenge.”
Mike stared at him. “I won’t rest until you’re dead.”
“You may be waiting a long time for that day,” Draven said, stalling to see if he’d recovered from the wounds yet. To his dismay, he discovered that he had not.
“My axe says differently,” Mika said with a slight smirk of satisfaction.
Grasping the crisis he was in, Draven decided on a different course of action. “Well, we won’t be finding out today,” he said. He then turned to the edge and leapt off the tower.
Mika’s eyes widened, and then he grunted in irritation. Draven would survive the fall, leaving Mika to feel truly defeated.
Down below, Jasian and Paxton endured their battle with Merroc. Jasian could tell that Merroc was also battling internally with the Illusionist’s tricks.
“Fight it, brother!” he yelled. “Don't let her destroy you!”
With another loud grunt, Merroc whipped around and knocked Paxton on his back with the impact from his weapon. Getting ready to deliver the final blow, Merroc hesitated and started to sweat.
“Brother,” Jasian pleaded once more. “Please.”
Dirce revealed herself from the shadows of the tower and stood behind Merroc. “Finish it!” she cried out.
“Don’t!” Jasian yelled back.
“Do it now! Then, take care of the rest!” Dirce shouted, beginning to lose her control as she became overwhelmed by Merroc’s internal struggle.
Merroc raised his greatsword into the air, ready to bring it down on Paxton. He yelled in anger, turned around, and collided with Dirce’s spear that she used to counter the attack.
Dirce looked
at Nightfall, shook by the sight; the Mystical Weapon had been split in two. “No! This is...“
The silence in her throat caught her by surprise, as did the sword in her abdomen. Staring down at the blade, she managed to shed a tear. Merroc’s sword slid out of her with ease and she slumped to the ground, staring at the sun somberly before she faded into darkness that she’d never come back from.
Merroc fell to his knees, drained from the experience. His brother was at his side instantly. Jasian asked if he was all right and he simply smiled. “Never thought I’d have to fight that kind of battle,” Merroc joked. Jasian took Merroc’s head into his hands; touching his own to his brother’s in a sign of affection. Merroc appreciated the gesture.
Jasian made his way over to Paxton. “Are you okay?” he asked, reaching his hand out to the man who had given him so much grief during the journey.
“I am,” Pax said, taking the assistance and rising to his feet. “I owe you my life,” he swore.
Jasian patted him on the shoulder and Paxton returned the same gesture. A moment later, he turned to his brother and smiled and Merroc smiled back. They had won that day. Suddenly, Jasian observed the smile fading from his brother’s face as pain and awe washed over him instead. He only saw the blade after it was too late. The man, Draven, had plunged his sword into Merroc’s back.
“NO!” Jasian screamed with everything inside of him. Hopelessly, he drew his dagger and launched it at Draven, only to see it hit its mark and shatter.
Without flinching, Draven looked into the grief-stricken eyes of Jasian. “Be seeing you, boy,” he remarked before escaping.
Swiftly, Jasian ran to his brother and caught him before he fell completely to the ground. He then noticed Mika coming out of the tower. The Sageslayer’s face turned a sheet of white, as he too joined the brothers from Stoneshield.
“Merroc. Merroc,” Jasian said in a panic. “What can we do?” he blurted out to Mika. The traveler simply shook his head, confirming the worst.
“Jasian,” Merroc said weakly. “Stay the course, brother. Stay the course. Tell Mother and Father that I fought through it,” he said proudly, referring to his mental battle with Dirce. He saw his brother nodding with tears in his eyes. He then turned to his friend. “Mika,” he said. “Find something you love. Find something to give you purpose.” Mika could only stare at the dying man, as his eyes began to swell up in sorrow.
Ashra and Rudi had finally joined them. Ashra started to weep in Rudi’s arms, while Rudi looked at his cousin with sadness and determination in his heart. The mighty son of Stoneshield had fallen.
Chapter 27
HONORING THE FALLEN
Hours had passed by since the battle with Dirce and Draven. The party was reduced to five members. They had lost all the Dragoons that they brought with them from Angelia; and they had lost Merroc. They could not carry him on their journey, so the decision was made to have the funeral pyre there by the tower where he died. It was a small ceremony, but a meaningful one. They knew that Merroc would find peace amongst the warriors of Areon in the halls of Volsi. This didn’t help to rid the pain that the party was going through, however. They elected to focus on their next destination.
“Merroc suggested we head to Summerhold,” Rudimere said with finality. “I intend on going there.”
Paxton agreed, followed quickly by Ashra. The others weren’t surprised to hear any arguments on the matter. Unbeknownst to them, Ashra had already made peace with her visit to Triton when she saw her city from the top of the tower; though, Merroc’s death solidified her decision to follow through with his plan.
Distracted by the sounds of clutter, Rudi caught Mika packing up his belongings. “You’re still leaving?” he asked, confused.
“I have to,” Mika replied. “I’m going to catch up to Draven, and I’m going to kill him.”
“He’s not worth it,” Rudi attempted to dissuade Mika. “We need you.”
“I’ll be joining him,” Jasian chimed in.
This time, Ashra spoke up. “No, Jasian. Revenge is not the answer.”
Jasian shook his head. “I can’t hear that right now, Ashra. I’m helping Mika.” Seeing the frustration and angst on her face, he spoke to her again in a more soothing tone. “I will find you again,” he told her before their lips touched.
Everyone said their farewells, clasping their arms before they took their leave. Paxton nodded to Jasian, regarding him with respect and honor. Rudimere, Paxton, and Ashra ascended their horses and started their journey South, while Mika and Jasian gathered their assets and set out on foot to confront Draven.
“Come on, my friend,” Mika addressed Jasian. “I’ll show you how we’re going to kill that bastard.”
Some time later, as Rudi and the others traveled the road, Ashra took a moment to approach Rudi.
“Don’t worry, Rudi,” she said in a whisper. “I won’t tell anyone.”
Rudi looked at her knowingly. “Thank you,” he said in appreciation.
“It’s not every day you find out you’re an Evolutionary,” she said with a smile. “It’s a gift from the Mystics.”
But, that wasn’t the explanation that he believed. Rudimere took a minute to think about everything that happened to them since their journey began. He took all the moments, the battles, and the meetings they’ve had, and pondered all the strange occurrences that transpired. His eyebrows raised, and a large smile fixed itself on his face, as he remembered the remarkable truth.
“Actually,” he said. “It was a birthday gift from my mother.”
EPILOGUE
THE HIDDEN TRUTH
The hour grew late, and the halls of the East King sounded with imperative discussion. Vandal, the East King, listened to his son’s instructions with an open mind, though he couldn’t make a decision. He was still upset at his son’s recent exploits.
“How could you go there, Andemar?” Vandal asked, not letting the topic be skewed.
“The Foreseer had information, Father,” Andemar replied. “I had to go and talk to him.”
“But, a man like that can’t help us, son.” Vandal replied, shaking his head. “Some Sages are not to be trusted.”
Andemar pulled a letter out of his belt. “Apparently, this one can,” Andemar stated. “It’s what I’ve been trying to tell you.”
Vandal scanned the letter and looked up. “This is from Thasus,” he gasped.
“Yes, Father. He stumbled on a bit of a problem in the North, as you can tell,” Andemar said, gesturing to the letter in his father’s hands.
Vandal read the letter with earnest. After a moment of reflection, he made the announcement.
“Have the riders at the ready. We’re sending a letter to your Uncle Marc at Stoneshield. Tell him to gather a large force to aid King Cyrus at once,” Vandal commanded. Realistically, the East King agreed to aid the North King, because Thasus mentioned that the Nortons would aid them in their war against Kelbain.
Andemar was surprised at the hasty call on his father’s part, but didn’t argue. It was the right act to follow through with. He bowed his head slightly, in courtesy of his father’s position, and turned to walk away to carry out the task.
“Andemar,” Vandal called to him. When his son turned back around, Vandal said, “I don't want you to go and see that Foreseer again. I don't want you to fool around with stories of Sages and Mystics anymore. Understood?”
Assuming that his father was reverting back to his overprotective ways, Andemar only sighed. He hesitated, but ended up nodding in agreement to placate his father.
Watching Andemar leave the throne room, Vandal took note of his son’s silent defiance, but was glad to see him show respect for his wishes. The East King sat down on his throne, holding the letter that Thasus sent to him and contemplated if he acted too abruptly. He knew that if the North was going to war with each other, then they needed to stop their squabbling before they’d be useful in the real fight. Thasus knew this as well, which made Vandal ev
en more proud that his son brokered the deal with King Cyrus in the first place.
Vandal sat back in his chair and sighed. This is just the beginning, he thought to himself. Out of thin air, he produced a small flame that burned the letter in his hand to ashes. As he wiped his hands clean, he casually stared out the window and into the distance, unshaken by his ability.
APPENDIX
Sages – Individuals in Areon with extraordinary abilities. They are divided into 4 different classes: Illusionist, Foreseer, Evolutionary, and Sorcerer. These classes also have sub-classes. NOTE: Sages do not always have all abilities in a class. They are as follows:
Illusionist: Changer, Reader
Changer: An individual with the ability to shapeshift into any person
Reader: A person who uses their mind to speak to, control, and read the minds of others
Foreseer: Watcher, Pathfinder, Sensor
Watcher: A person with the ability to see the future (not always accurate)
Pathfinder: Someone with the ability to locate an object or individual
Sensor: An individual with the ability to sense Sage abilities in another
Evolutionary: (extremely RARE Sage; Only decapitation will destroy an evolutionary)
Evolutionary: The ability to develop a resistance or immunity to whatever they were injured by or exposed to.
Sorcerer: Elemental, Sorcery, Kindler, and in some cases: Longevity
Elemental: A person with the ability to control the elements, such as fire, earth, water, or air (extremely RARE to be able to control more than one element)