Rebellion

by J. D. Netto

  The secrecy killed me. As we walked through the halls of the castle, I could not keep myself from thinking of what might have happened. Could it be that Shadows had attacked again? Were Nephilins destroying more people? Had they reached us?

  I analyzed the guards and the servants of the castle. It seemed as if they were all unaware of any emergency. The servants calmly dusted off the furniture; the guards, as still as statues, stood at the doorposts and in front of the massive white columns. I tried to read the hearts of those present in the room. I was caught by surprise when I realized no image came to my mind. I tried once again but nothing was shown to me.

  “I can’t see anything.” My lips quivered. “I cannot read their souls.” Demetre darted me a surprised look.

  I felt my wings slither under my skin. “I can feel my wings but I cannot see hearts anymore.”

  Anger and doubt arose within me. Was Lucifer doing this? Memories of Aloisio flashed in my mind—moments of weakness where my powers vanished like the mist.

  “Are there Nephilins?” Demetre asked Nathan, grabbing ahold of his arm.

  Nathan pulled his arm away. “Not now, Demetre. All questions will be answered before the king.”

  Seven bald men dressed in blinding white robes walked by us. They chattered amongst themselves. Their ears and noses were pierced with silver jewelry. Two of them had markings shaped like white dragons painted onto their bodies. Of course I did not miss their eyes glaring at me as they walked past us.

  “It seems the Wise already know you both,” Nathan said.

  We followed the seven men. Demetre was quiet, his footsteps apprehensive. Nathan kept rubbing his fingers against each other at every step he took. Confusion stirred inside of me as I realized the Wise walked toward a massive wall. No picture frames hung on the wall, and no torches adorned it.

  “Is this the right way?” I asked Nathan, to which he made no reply. My eyes looked at the wall again, seeing what many would believe to be a myth. One of the seven men cupped the palms of his hands and blew on them. A dancing blue flame appeared, burning with great strength. His hands diverged from one another, touching the wall. Like wax, the wall melted to their feet, unveiling the throne room.

  Joy filled my heart when I saw Devin and Petra chatting Their faces broke into wide smiles once they saw us. The Wise approached the king, silently standing next to him.

  “Am I glad to see you both,” Devin said, spreading out his arms as he walked toward us.

  “I am relieved to see you are both well,” Petra said, walking next to Devin.

  When we were within reaching distance, Devin embraced us both. He let out a soft laugh.

  Petra’s brown eyes overflowed with joy. “Even though our time together was short, rest assured that I am happy to see you far from harm’s way.”

  The sweet smell of cinnamon was once again strong. The throne room walls were built with cobblestones, precisely aligned. An enormous round iron chandelier hung above the room.

  The king was seated on his white throne. With a pensive expression, he rested his chin on his hand. Never once did he look my way. Bones that had been melted together gave structure to the throne and its dragon-skull shape. The macabre sight caused me to tremble inside.

  “He wants to wait until all are gathered,” Devin said, walking closer to the burning fireplace on our right.

  “Darker days lie ahead of us.” Petra scratched his chin. “The uncertainty of the coming days is troublesome to all those that are aware of this Darkness.”

  “I am sure word has reached many kingdoms of the destruction of Mag Mell, Aloisio, the overtaking of Billyth, and all the other attacks,” I said.

  Petra scoffed as he crossed his arms; the wounds on his wrist became visible. “But that is the most frightening thought, isn’t it?” He shot me a worried glance. “Many know the truth and yet they still choose to ignore it. One must wonder what kind of thoughts permeate the minds of such men.”

  Echoing footsteps resounded in the room.

  “Am I late?” a boy with long brown hair and light hazel eyes said as he walked toward Devin.

  “No, Ballard, you are just in time,” Devin responded, a smile curving his face. “Isaac,” he turned his gaze to me. “Allow me to introduce you to Ballard Radley, keeper of the third book—the Book of the Destroyer.”

  Ballard gazed at me for a while. I tried to read his mind but my powers failed me yet again.

  “Finally we formally meet, Isaac. Devin spoke of you after he rescued me and the others from Nephele in Aloisio.” An odd feeling stirred within me as I gazed at his face—he looked familiar.

  I tried to gather any memory I had after King Marco and Nephele bled me like a wild pig, but all I could remember was the darkness that overtook me as I closed my eyes to this world. The memories that came after—those I would always try my hardest to forget.

  “What happened, Devin?” I insisted as I collected myself. “After I…passed on to the other world?”

  “After the Soul Exchange was performed on you, I was taken prisoner along with Petra, and we were placed in the Prison of Despair.” Devin narrowed his eyes, taking a deep breath. “We were locked in the lowest level, the floor between the Abyss and Tristar. Ely came to us as we lay against the cold prison floor bruised, wounded, and weak.”

  “The darkness of the lower grounds was frightening. The only sound heard was that of tormented screams and the roars of beasts,” Petra added with an edge to his voice. His empty eyes watched the flames dance in the fireplace. “At times, I had the feeling that the walls were caving in on us, suffocating the life that was still left.”

  “That was until we saw the circle with three lines shining with great strength on the mildewed walls. The symbol multiplied, covering every part of the cell with a bright light, until the prison vanished and we found ourselves standing in front of the cathedral, surprised at the war scenery we gazed upon,” Devin said as he grabbed more wood and cast it into the fireplace. “The monuments were turned into ashes, and the Desert dragons burned and mutilated the innocent.”

  “Until I found you.” Ballard set his eyes on Devin, a soft grin stamped on his face. “The moment I set foot on Aloisio, the symbol on the cover of my book was taken by a bright light. I wrapped it in old rags, trying not to draw too much attention. It wasn’t long after my arrival that the Shadows invaded and the attack commenced. Doubt overshadowed my mind. Like a poisoned rat, I shambled my way around the battle until I stood in front of the cathedral. Seconds later, Devin appeared with Petra and Ely.”

  “Appeared?” My head recoiled back.

  He nodded in return. “Yes,” he said. “One moment they weren’t there, and the next they were.”

  “We found the others hiding in the flames of the Council of Many Meetings. Of course, Nephele had found one of us first,” Petra said. “I do not think Xylia will forget that encounter any time soon.” He gnawed at his bottom lip as his right hand rubbed his chin. “Neither will I…” His weary voice trailed off.

  “It is a miracle that you are alive, Ballard,” Devin added. If you hadn’t been able to escape the Prison of Despair in Justicia after Nephele and Adawnas found you, you would not have been standing here today.”

  For a short while, I kept my eyes focused on Ballard. There was something familiar about him. Then it became clear to me.

  “You were in Justicia on the day I returned to my body, weren’t you?” The memories played fervently in my mind.

  Ballard smirked. “I see that your memory does not fail you, Isaac. It was a miracle that guided me to Justicia on that day.”

  Demetre’s face was pensive. “What led you there, Ballard?”

  “In a dream, I saw you and Demetre running through a great wasteland; the scarlet sky painted with stars sat above you as you desperately traveled down the torturous path. Both of you looked frail and weak, your lips dry and bruised, your bodies feeble and restless. Out of the nothingness a creature appeared. Its scaly body
dragged on the dirt like a snake, its long arms crawled, giving it more strength. The creature looked sad…lost.” He narrowed his eyes.

  My eyes glistened while I wiped my nose with the back of my hand, trying to contain my sobs as he shared his dream.

  “Both of you approached the creature. You talked to it, for quite some time. A sudden glare of light cut through the red sky and touched the dry ground. A cloud of dust arose, blinding my vision, but I could still see that the light had taken the shape of a six-winged lion, its eyes as scarlet as blood. The lion let out a fierce roar, causing the ground to tremble. You and Demetre held on to each other as the earth beneath you caved. The creature vanished like a cloud. Then a voice spoke to me. ‘One greater than death has come.’”

  Words did not come to me. I felt the warmth of the flames coming from the fireplace.

  “How do you know this?” Demetre asked, his face shrouded in confusion. “We never shared this tale with anyone.”

  “Sometimes, I see things in my dreams.” Ballard’s voice turned into a whisper as he looked at me. “When Nephele and Adawnas had me prisoner, I knew you’d come back, both of you.”

  “Why did you go to Justicia alone?” I inquired.

  “Because of the dream. I knew I would find you there, and we needed you. I didn’t know the Underwarriors had planned an attack on Justicia upon your return.”

  All was becoming clearer. Raziel had probably ordered Alexander and the Underwarriors to come aid us once we had left the Wastelands.

  Ballard let out a deep breath. “I must indeed be grateful for the Underwarriors. They rescued me from that prison…I was too weak to carry on.”

  “It was also because of the Underwarriors that we were able to escape Aloisio. We must indeed be grateful for their service,” Devin said.

  “They fought alongside Demetre and me in the battle of Justicia, along with the men of Aloisio. I am forever in their debt,” I said. Vivid images of the battle flashed in my mind. As they all shared their tales of peril, I tried not to be consumed by my own memories. “Even in the Wastelands, Raziel found me.”

  “Where is Ely, Devin?” Demetre said as his eyes circled the room.

  “Ely rode to the Kingdom of Watermiles upon the king’s request. I believe Demyon is calling up a meeting,” Devin replied.

  A moment of silence loomed over us.

  “My heart grew frail and weak when I saw you bleed over that book,” Devin continued. “Unbearable pain stung me when Adawnas walked into the room and looked me down as if I was some chained beast.”

  One of the servants made his way toward the king, holding a tray with a silver chalice and a metallic jar. The king stared at the young boy with a smile.

  “Perfect timing, Pathmus. Pour me some wine.”

  Gently, the ashen-blond boy poured the purple drink into the chalice. King Demyon watched us with an apprehensive stare.

  “Are the others coming, Pathmus?” He picked at the throne’s armrests while he looked around the room.

  “I apologize for our delay, King,” a voice affirmed before Pathmus could reply. I looked over my shoulder and was astounded at the girl’s beauty. Her flaming red hair hung below her shoulders, and her eyes reminded me of the green grass of the Hills of Mehnor. Beside her stood another girl with dark hair that cascaded down in waves. Her chestnut eyes were filled with sorrow, her pale skin reminiscent of the purest silk. Our eyes met, but she quickly deviated her gaze from mine.

  “Xylia, Adara, welcome,” King Demyon said, sipping his wine. “We have much to discuss today.”

  Both girls bowed their heads and proceeded to stand next to me.

  “You must be Isaac,” the redhead said. “I am Xylia. Such a pleasure to meet you.” She wore a gray hooded coat that trained down to her knees. Around her waist, she had an under-bust black leather corset. Her charcoal boots sat below her knees.

  “And I’m Adara,” the brunette said with a smile. Dressed in green tones, she wore a corset in shades of lavender atop her gambeson. Her brown boots were ornamented with swirls and patterns.

  “You will all have time to chat after we are done. Shadows were seen in the Weeping Mountains around Bellator. Mountain spies sent a message through our Watch Birds, informing us that they caught sight of some creatures emerging from the Ruins of Madbouseux. As we all know, there has been no sign of life in those ruins for thousands of years.”

  “What kind of creatures?” Ballard took one step in the direction of the king.

  “That they were not able to say,” one of the Wise men responded, crossing his hands.

  I shot him a cold stare.

  “What do you mean?” I asked, bearing my eyes into his. “I am assuming the soldiers of Bellator know Nephilins, Shadows, and Desert dragons, given they aided us in battle not long ago.”

  “I assumed your trip to the Wastelands would have enlightened you about the armies of Lucifer, but it seems you have remained a fool after all.” The Wise man’s eyes sparkled with anger.

  “My good sir, it is not the foolishness of the question that frightens me, but the thought that the creatures Demetre and I saw in that world are coming to Elysium.” Silence loomed over us. The corners of his lips trembled. I noticed his hands had turned to fists. “Trust me when I say—better to fight Nephilins and Shadows than the devilries we saw in that abyss.”

  Devin’s lips went as rigid as a rock.

  “Isaac,” Demetre whispered, avoiding the Wise man’s gaze.

  “Be quiet, Draevor,” ordered one of the Wise men. His companions watched him as he stepped forward. He stood next to Draevor, bearing his ashen eyes into his. The markings of the white dragon covered his bald head.

  “What do these creatures look like, Sathees?” King Demyon asked with a fearful voice. “I tried looking into the Lion’s Stare but it does not show me anything beyond our borders right now. Thus the reason for fear within me. I am afraid that these creatures are heading toward Bellator.”

  “One of our scouts said that these creatures resemble humans, despite the greenish hue of their naked skin.”

  King Demyon’s jaw dropped. “Were those the only creatures seen?” Keeping his eyes set on Sathees, King Demyon placed his chalice on top of the throne.

  “No, my lord,” Sathees replied. “One with red eyes and olive skin was seen leading them.”

  “Red eyes…” King Demyon’s voice faded, his eyes grew distant.

  “His garments aged and torn, they said,” Sathees added.

  Silence reigned over the room for a while. With empty expressions, we tried to make sense of these creatures that had emerged from the ruins.

  “Could it be that the tales of my forefathers are true?” King Demyon mumbled, scuffing his fingers against his chin.

  “What do these tales say, King?” Devin asked.

  King Demyon walked down a short set stairs. “The tale speaks of blood-drinkers. Men that discovered a dark power hidden inside a book called the Book of Letters. Their king fed them his own blood—blood tainted with the darkness of Lucifer. The tale says that the men that drank his blood found eternal life, but in order to remain immortal, they had to drink blood forever. The Creator sent Stars from Tristar and punished the king and his kingdom, sending them all to a place called The Heart of Elysium.”

  “Can these blood-drinkers change others into what they are?” Seconds felt like minutes as I waited for King Demyon’s response.

  “The curse can only be performed if they have possession of the Book of Letters,” King Demyon answered.

  “Has there been any word on any other attacks by the Nephilins and the Shadows?” Adara asked with a soft, soothing voice.

  “No news,” Nathan replied, crossing his arms against his chest. “We have not heard of Nephele, Erebos, or the Nephilins since the fall of Justicia.”

  “The good news is that we have Ohmen, king of Swordsmouth; Folletti, king of Watermiles, and Valleree, Queen of Tarsh coming here to discuss defensive strategies
against such powers. They will be here in about two days,” Demyon said.

  Xylia ran her hands across her red hair, rolling her eyes to the back of her head.

  “What are we to do until then?” She spread out her arms. “Are we to sit here and wait for a decision while these creatures roam Elysium?” Her green eyes were filled with rage as she walked closer to King Demyon.

  A smirk appeared on his face. “What do you know of war, little girl?” King Demyon raised his voice. “How many battles have you fought in?”

  “More than you could ever know.” She pressed her eyebrows together.

  King Demyon shook his head.

  “I do not see how that could be possible,” he said.

  “King, my whole life has been a battle. My parents died the day I was born into this world. My uncle Ihvar found me two days after they were murdered. I have battled and fought against the rage that burns inside of me. Do not think that just because a crown sits on your head you understand everything there is to know about battles. You might lead soldiers, but you cannot lead hearts, unless they believe in you.”

  All had their eyes set on her. King Demyon gave her a half-hearted smile while rubbing the corner of his bottom lip.

  “King, send out soldiers to patrol the area near the kingdom,” Sathees said. King Demyon turned his eyes to him. “May I also suggest that you send Xylia with them? But give her a white dragon. Her bravery is admirable.”

  “That is not a bad idea, Sathees,” the king responded to his servant’s request.

  “It will be an honor. Better to be prepared than to be caught by surprise.” She raised her right eyebrow and crossed her arms. “dragons do not frighten me.”

  “Xylia, it is too dangerous out there?” Adara walked to her side. “We are being hunted. Do not do this just to prove your courage to others.”

  “I am not trying to prove anything, Adara.” She darted her a cold stare. “We cannot just sit here while our enemy destroys everything we hold dear.”

  “I will go with you also,” I said. “I will accompany the soldiers and the dragons.”

  “Maybe I should ride with you as well, Isaac.” Demetre placed his hand on my shoulder.