by Kris A Hiatt
Had he not been in The Calm, he would have heard the call from Disdane’s men that enemy reinforcements had come into the courtyard behind them. He would have noticed that Heral, Primain, and countless others had found their way through the training yard and into the courtyard. Maybe he would have even seen that Exodin and his force had arrived at the other end of the courtyard and began to fight for control of the opening.
But he didn’t.
Instead, he unleashed his magic. He expelled it from within him with all of his considerable will, commanding it to consume his enemy.
He felt the release in one quick, powerful push. It differed from the other times he used magic in that it occurred so quickly. Usually the energy flowed from his body. This time it was forced from him in an instant.
He opened his eyes, or tried to. He wasn’t sure if he succeeded or not because he couldn’t see anything. Everything was black. He realized that he was face down, breathing in foul air and what seemed like ash.
He sat up and coughed several times, expelling whatever it was out of his lungs.
“Treace! Treace!” he heard someone yell from the distance. At first he didn’t know who it was, then he registered the speaker as Kiril. He clearly detected shock and horror in her voice. “Oh my God!”
He felt someone, presumably Kiril, slide down next to him and wrap their arms around him. He vaguely felt their touch.
“Are you okay? Please tell me you’re okay!” Kiril said hysterically.
Treace had never heard that level of distress in her voice before. He looked at her, or where he thought her face was, but saw nothing but blackness. “I can’t see you,” he said.
“Hold on,” she instructed.
He thought maybe she had gotten up, but he wasn’t sure. He didn’t feel right at all. He couldn’t feel anything around him and couldn’t see. Even his hearing seemed muted. To top that off, he was severely off balance. Even from his seated position he wasn’t sure he could remain upright.
In the distance, men were screaming in agony. It wasn’t new to Treace, many men were severely wounded in the battle and cried out in pain. He didn’t even notice that there were no longer any sounds of battle.
Kiril returned a moment later. “Hold your head still,” she instructed.
He did as he was told and he could feel something cold and damp wiping at his eyes.
“Now try.”
He blinked open his eyes and looked up into Kiril’s beautiful orbs.
Her face was covered in ash, save for the streaks where tears had wiped her cheeks clean.
“Thank Kaden you’re alive!”
“What happened?” Treace asked, trying to keep conscious. It was difficult. The world was spinning and he felt like he may throw up.
Moments later, he lurched forward and did.
Kiril rubbed his back as he vomited.
When he was done, he plopped back down on his backside and looked around.
What he saw didn’t quite register with him. He didn’t remember where he was or what was going on until just then. But even after remembering that he had fought Disdane, he expected to find the man somewhere near him. But no one other than Kiril was anywhere close. Treace continued to look around, this time taking in what he saw. He wasn’t expecting to see the level of devastation that he was presented with.
Where blood-stained snow once rested, now lay blackened earth. What happened? Treace remembered then that he tried to burn Disdane. The memory of using surprise instead of anticipation came back to him. Was that what caused the destruction that he saw? Piles of ash rested in the places where the closest enemies once stood.
“How did you do that?” Kiril asked, though her words were muffled to his ears.
There wasn’t as much awe in the way she asked the question as there was horror.
Treace’s eyes caught his twin swords only a few paces away. They were on the ground, partially covered in ash. The wooden pommels were gone, apparently burnt to a crisp. The remaining metal was blackened and appeared to be disfigured as if momentarily placed in a forge. Disdane’s massive sword wasn’t too far away from them, looking much the same. But its owner was still nowhere to be found. Only a pile of ash. “Did I?” Treace asked unbelievingly. His heart was racing, body sweating, and he felt like he may pass out.
Kiril nodded.
“Is Disdane truly dead?” Treace asked plainly, just to be certain she understood him correctly. The look on her face wasn’t a happy one so he wanted to be sure.
“Yes,” Kiril confirmed with a sad look on her face.
If Disdane was dead, then why was she sad? That didn’t make any sense to him. She should be elated. It had to be something else. “What are you not telling me?”
Kiril began to cry. “I don’t know if I should be happy or sad, Treace. I mean, you’re alive, but,” she said through her tears, leaving the thought hanging.
“But what?” Treace asked, feeling worse with each passing second. His heart beat even faster and his vision swam. He was aware that his words barely fell out of his mouth.
“What in the name of Kaden was that?” Drevic asked from somewhere nearby.
Treace tried to turn to look at the Archbishop, but didn’t make it a quarter of the way around before his eyes spotted corpses not too far from him. He wasn’t sure how he’d missed them before. They were blackened as if they’d been burned, much like what had happened to those that were caught by magical fire earlier in the battle. Only these corpses were burned so badly that there was little more than bone left and some were even missing limbs, with ash resting where the limbs used to be.
Treace tried to focus on Kiril to ask her what had happened, but he couldn’t keep conscious long enough to do so. Everything went dark.
Chapter 32
Treace awoke with a start. His heart hammered in his chest and he was sweating profusely.
“Go get her,” Moff ordered someone from a chair next to Treace’s bed.
Treace heard footfalls move away from him but by the time he looked in their direction, the person was already out the door and into the hallway.
He looked around and realized he was in Kiril’s room inside of the priory. But he didn’t know what day it was or how he’d gotten there.
“Bad dream?” Moff asked.
Treace thought about it for a moment. He supposed that was what it was. He only recalled glimpses of the dream, only bits and pieces, but in it he was severely wounded and barely hanging on to life. Kint was dead, Liernin was dead, and Treace had burned dozens of people alive. He took mental stock of his body and was relieved to find that he didn’t feel pain or discomfort anywhere. He wasn’t wounded at all. He took a deep breath and was glad it was just a dream. “Nightmare really.”
“Doesn’t surprise me after all you’ve been through,” Moff replied.
All he’d been through? “What do you mean?”
“What do you remember?”
“About what?” Treace asked, needing clarification.
Moff nodded his head but didn’t answer the question.
“Moff?”
“Kiril will be here in a minute,” was all Moff said before putting elbows on knees and his face in his hands.
“Moff, what’s going on?”
“She’ll be here soon.”
Treace pulled himself to a seated position in the bed. He realized he wasn’t wearing a shirt. He peered under the blanket and found that he wasn’t wearing anything. He looked around the room for his clothes and armor, but didn’t see them. “Where is she? And can I get some clothes?” he asked Moff.
“She’s in a meeting,” Moff replied, getting out of his chair.
Moff walked over to the closet and pulled out a pair of breeches and a shirt. He closed the door and tossed the clothes to Treace.
“Why are you dodging my questions?” Treace asked before slipping the shirt over his head.
Moff didn’t reply. Instead, he fixed Treace with an apologetic look that also
held a hint of anger.
Treace gave up trying to get Moff to talk. He would wait for Kiril. She would explain everything. Treace slid the breeches under the blanket and managed to get them on with a little work. He wasn’t used to putting clothes on while trying to keep himself covered.
“Thank Kaden you’re awake,” Kiril said from the doorway a few minutes later. Relief was clear in her voice.
Treace turned to get a look at her and was happy to find that not only had Kiril arrived, but so had Exodin and Drevic.
Kiril rushed to him and wrapped her arms around him, burying her head into his chest as she hugged him tight.
“I thought I lost you, too,” Kiril said softly in his ear.
“He doesn’t remember anything,” Moff announced.
Kiril pulled away and met his eyes with hers. Judging by how red and puffy her eyes were, Treace guessed that she’d been crying quite a bit recently. She rubbed his hands affectionately.
“Anything?” Kiril asked softly.
Treace got the impression that he wasn’t going to like whatever it was they thought he should remember. It reminded him of when he was younger and was sent to the medical with a head injury. It took several years for him to remember what had happened to put him in the medical. It was a horrible feeling to know that something had happened to you but you couldn’t remember what it was. He tried to think of what had happened recently. The last thing Treace remembered was going to bed with Kiril. They expected Shamir would attack the next day. Treace had a few more flashes of him fighting with his swords, but assumed those were just images from his recent dream. Shamir hadn’t yet attacked. None of the people in the room would be standing here if Shamir had attacked. They’d be busy fighting. Treace didn’t know what he was missing, so he simply shook his head.
“What’s the last thing you do remember?” Exodin asked before joining him at the side of his bed.
“Going to sleep with Kiril,” Treace answered, giving her hands a slight squeeze.
“What do you remember about Shamir?” Exodin asked.
“As previously discussed,” Drevic put in before Treace could answer. “We should exercise caution. The mind can be a fragile thing.”
“Not his,” Exodin replied, not taking his eyes off of Treace. “What do you remember?”
Treace thought about it again. Nothing new surfaced in his mind. He went to bed with Kiril expecting an attack from Shamir in the morning. “Shamir should attack sometime today.”
The others in the room exchanged glances.
“Just tell me,” Treace told them. He didn’t enjoy playing games as a child, he didn’t want to play them now. He looked Kiril in the eye. “However fragile you think my mind is, Exodin’s right. It’s not. Just tell me. Whatever it is, I can handle it. I’ve been down this road before as a child. You know that. Whatever it is that’s happened, I’d prefer to know now rather than later.”
Kiril nodded and looked down. “The war is over,” she said before sighing heavily.
Treace looked around the room for some clues. If they were here, it was evident that they’d won. So why was everyone so down? Everyone. His mind keyed in on that word. Everyone wasn’t here. Heral wasn’t here. Raythien wasn’t here. Neither was Liernin, though Treace thought if the war was over, Liernin had other things to attend to, but then so would Exodin.
“We’ve won,” Drevic added. “But yesterday’s victory came with considerable losses.”
“So I missed the war then?” Treace asked, not willing to believe it. He slept for an entire day?
“You didn’t miss any of it,” Kiril replied, fresh tears streaming down her cheeks.
“In fact, you and Moffred ended it,” Exodin added.
Treace thought for a second. They won the war but suffered such heavy casualties that the leaders that surrounded him now were still reeling from their losses. Treace could only think of one person’s death that would affect them so. Liernin. Kint was part of Liernin’s entourage and had to be with the baron. So if Liernin was dead, then Treace surmised that Kint was as well. That better explained Kiril’s red eyes and puffy cheeks. He’d mistaken her tears. He thought they were for him. Instead, they were for her father. It was the only thing that made sense to him. “Kiril, I’m so sorry.”
Kiril once again buried her head in his chest and began to sob. That confirmed his suspicions. Kint’s death saddened him greatly, but he couldn’t imagine what Kiril was going through. She had thought she had lost her father once before. Now she actually had. Treace kissed the top of her head and stroked her hair.
“So you do remember?” Drevic asked.
“No, I don’t. I just guessed. Judging by the way all of you are acting, I guessed that we’d lost Liernin. If Liernin is truly gone, then I’m certain Kint would have tried to protect him. It’s the only thing that would explain why you are acting the way that you are,” Treace explained. He could feel the beginnings of a headache coming on.
“So you don’t remember your fight with Disdane in the courtyard?” Exodin asked.
“No, I don’t. But I am right, aren’t I? Liernin and Kint are both dead? What about Liern and Amana?”
“Yes, Liernin and Kint are both gone,” Drevic replied sadly. “So is Amana, and Tabor.”
“But Liern is alive?”
“He was in rough shape when we found him, but he is alive,” Exodin replied.
“How many have we lost?” Treace asked.
“It’s still early,” Exodin replied. “But we believe we’ve lost well over half of our force.”
Half the force had to be over a thousand people. They really suffered those kinds of losses and still won? He wondered how many of the fallen he knew. “Who else did we lose?”
Drevic and Moff exchanged glances.
“Who?” Treace asked again. Even he detected a good amount of impatience in his voice.
“Other than those already mentioned, among those of the dead that you were close to are Primain, Salden, Griffeth, and,” Drevic let out a heavy sigh before adding one more name to the list. “Heral.”
Treace’s heart sank in his chest with each name Drevic added to the list. He admired Primain and Salden for their bravery. They were solid men and both would be missed. Griffeth saddened him even more for reasons he couldn’t explain. She was a good person who was still progressing as a warrior. Treace felt she had a lot of promise. But when Drevic said Heral’s name, Treace began to cry. The idea of losing one of his very best friends was heartbreaking. Kiril hugged him tight.
“I’m sorry to be the one to tell you that, Treace,” Drevic said, squeezing his arm. “But I have to ask just one more time. After hearing the names of people who have died, are you sure you don’t remember anything?”
Treace tried to remember what happened, but just couldn’t. Nothing came to him. His head ached as much as his heart. He pulled away from Kiril and wiped away the tears. “I’m sorry, Drevic. I don’t. But I hope those responsible have been dealt with.”
“Salden fell to Drokier,” Exodin explained. “I saw it happen. But rest assured, Drokier did pay. He fell to my sword shortly after. But the other three were all killed by the same person.”
“Disdane,” Treace guessed.
Exodin shook his head. “No Treace. Disdane didn’t kill them. You did.”
~~~
At first, Treace couldn’t believe what they had told him. He didn’t want to believe it. How could they expect him to believe that he had killed three of his own men? But now, after seeing the aftermath of the final battle inside the courtyard, Treace believed them. Not because he wanted to, but because all of the memories of yesterday’s events had returned. They had all returned the moment he stepped foot inside the courtyard.
He wished they hadn’t.
After Treace recounted his memory of the events, the others did as well. Drevic had relayed all that had happened at the front gate while Exodin added in pieces where he thought it was prudent. They explained that Moff h
ad daringly fired the arrow that took out Shamir and that Raythien had accompanied him. After Shamir was dead, and summarily hearing of Disdane’s destruction at Treace’s hands, Shamir’s men surrendered.
“Where’s Raythien now?” Treace asked.
“He’s currently out at the front gate supervising the removal of bodies and ensuring that Shamir’s forces don’t decide to come back,” Exodin explained.
“Was Brental among the dead?”
“No, he managed to escape during the commotion after Shamir had been killed,” Exodin replied.
“And Shamir’s men just gave up once the King was dead?” Treace asked, not quite believing it happened that way.
“Drokier was already dead, you had already done what you did and word of that had reached their ranks. That truly took their will to fight. I’m guessing that once Shamir went down, they felt they had no reason to fight,” Exodin explained.
Treace was going to ask how Moff made the shot that took down Shamir, but decided that was for another time. Instead, Treace began to walk the grounds, taking in all of the destruction that he’d caused. The others followed in silence, giving him time to think. He guessed they had said all they were going to say by now.
All told, Treace had killed forty-two people and wounded another twenty-four in a single release of magical energy. The blast was a near perfect circle about fifty yards in diameter, centered on where Treace was located.
The charred bodies were a grim reminder of the powerful magic that Treace and the brothers of the Church could wield. Word of what had happened had spread quickly. He wasn’t surprised to hear that there were some within Haven who were now terrified of the Church because of it. Some had called for Treace to be imprisoned while others called him a hero. He didn’t consider himself a hero at all. Neither did he think he should be imprisoned. He would have to live with the memory of what he’d done for the rest of his life. The screams of those caught by his magical explosion, if that was what it was, were now clearly etched into his mind. He remembered hearing them after the event, but until now he didn’t realize that those screams were from both enemies and friends alike.