The Crimson Claymore

by Craig A. Price Jr.

  Ahead of the man was Starlyn, awestruck as she looked at him. She didn’t attempt to grab her weapon or speak but gently strode up toward the man to stop ten paces from him. There seemed to be disbelief in her face as she looked, and it was that that caught Andron off guard.

  “Hello, Sh’on,” Starlyn finally said.

  “Hello, Starlyn, it has been a while, has it not?” His voice was thick with a rustic accent.

  Andron took a few steps closer and watched as the man’s eyes grew a deeper and darker green. He didn’t move in the slightest or care to look back at Andron. Suddenly, a large, genuine smile appeared on his face. Starlyn didn’t return the smile but continued to look at him with unease.

  Chapter 23

  Searon, Karceoles, and Xython sat alone around a table in the back corner in the common room of the Dancing Donkey. All was silent around them, as even the inn owner and most of the serving maids had gone off to bed. Only two remained; one continued wiping down the tables and cleaning the floor. She smiled at the three men from time to time but left them alone after they said they wouldn’t care for a drink. The other was the same redheaded maid with the white hat they had spoken to before. She knelt next to Searon, cleaning his wound and bandaging it. Searon and Karceoles both puffed at their pipes as they leaned back in their chairs. Karceoles’s pipe was thrice the length as Searon’s with a long stem that he held nearly two spans from his face. Xython watched the two carefully with arms crossed.

  “Where do we start?” Searon asked.

  “The beginning is usually suitable,” Karceoles said.

  “How about where you have been the past ten years,” Xython added.

  Searon sighed. “Do you remember Victoria?”

  Xython’s expression changed from stern to worry. He looked around as if expecting her to come from the shadows. When he saw nothing, he turned back to Searon and studied him with caution.

  “Yes,” he said reluctantly.

  “Well, fourteen years ago, we married. She grew with child after half a year, and we decided to move. We had a son, Kellen, who grew to the age of ten when she was with child again. Before our family could grow, we were attacked by draeyks. I am all that is left, and a little over three years have passed. My life quest from then on has been to seek out these creatures one by one and destroy them. Nothing else has mattered.”

  Xython nodded but kept silent.

  “Well?” Searon asked.

  “What?”

  “Would you like to join us in gathering an army to destroy them once and for all?”

  “After nearly thirteen years, little has changed about you, Searon. You are still the selfish leader that took off to battle with little regard to anyone but yourself,” Xython paused. “No, I will not join your quest. While I’m sorry for what grief you must be going through, your act is still selfish. Can you not see what these villages are going through? This daerion threat has only begun in the last few years, and it has been increasing rapidly. To ask us to abandon our armies that are needed to protect us here to instead run off and leave this village unprotected for thousands of innocents to die? You ask too much.”

  Xython got to his feet and slid his chair in. He took one last hardened glance at Searon before shaking his head and walking toward the exit.

  “Wait!” Searon called.

  Xython stopped and reluctantly turned back to look at Searon. His expression was unreadable, but it seemed borderline rage and sorrow.

  “You’re right; I am selfish. These people need protection as well. Please sit. I am not here to dictate. I have come with ideas and have come to listen. Your politics have always been appreciated in the past, even if I haven’t always thanked you for them. Please, sit, friend.”

  Xython raised an eyebrow. “Perhaps you have changed a little. Fine, I will sit. Do not think to change my mind without a debate.”

  Searon smiled. “I would never. Have I ever?”

  “Nope, and unlike you, I haven’t changed.”

  “And that is the reason, my friend, that I wish to have you as my ally.”

  “Go on, tell me what you have to say.”

  “We need an alliance. Even if we aren’t to take many on a journey to fight, the fact that an alliance is true against these creatures is security enough. If a bond can be created, with messengers to let each other know where there is trouble so that the other may come to aid. If we have a few thousand strong, and the city is being attacked, we would make haste to come defend. Yet if we find a camp where they dwell, we could send for aid and head in strong.”

  Xython’s wide white smile appeared. “It seems you do still think as a general. Do you still play Crossguards?”

  Searon frowned. He hadn’t even thought about the strategy board game in years. It was an intricate battle of wits, where you had to break through a force of units that had special maneuvers of defense to breach the castle. As children, both Xython and Searon played it all the time together, as did most boys who wished to learn battle tactics. The carved wooden pieces took forms of cavalry, pikesmen, swordsmen, crossbowmen, archers, and a captain. There were fifteen pikesmen, five each of cavalry and swordsmen, two each of crossbowmen and archers, and one captain, making a total thirty movable pieces in the game. The board was fifteen circles wide and fifteen tall, making a total of 225 blue and white mismatched circles. There was only a true winner if one defeated all the pieces while keeping their captain alive. “You bring back fond memories, friend. But no, I have not played Crossguards in many years. In fact, I believe the last game I played was against my brother right before I left Legain with Victoria.”

  “A fitting last game then. I will not ask you to play until after we reach Legain and you play a rematch against your brother.”

  “So you will come?”

  “Only to make sure you don’t make an arse of yourself. Someone needs to knock sense in you from time to time to make sure you do the right thing.”

  Karceoles grinned. “I have been trying my best to do so myself, yet his head is as stubborn as stone.”

  “Tell me something I don’t know.” Xython smiled back.

  * * *

  When the morning arrived, Searon quickly packed his things securely. He wore simple brown breeches and a tan V-neck button-up shirt. His dark-brown hair fell down on each side of his face, and he looked in the mirror on the wall. The room was lightened through the cracked blinds at the window. It was a simple inn with brown sheets and blanket, dark stained wood floors, a desk, and an end table. His armor was secured in his pack, as he knew he wouldn’t have much use for it. He felt like being comfortable rather than guarded through the rest of his journey. Besides, it had been too long that he had been without it. He now knew what type of attacks to fight the daerions with, and besides, he had his friend Xython with him now.

  When he looked in the mirror, he frowned, feeling at the rough beard at his jaw. It wasn’t clean as it had been so long ago. During the time he was with Victoria, he’d kept his hair neatly trimmed at exact shoulder length and his beard and sideburns trimmed perfect with thin lines up to his mustache and a single line traveling down from the middle of his lip. Now there were stray hairs on his cheeks and between his three goatee lines as well as scouring his neck. The neck was the worst, as those hairs itched, and he constantly felt himself scratching just above his Adam’s apple. He fingered at the knife on his sash next to his claymore’s scabbard. Dipping his hands in the bucket of water next to him, he wet his face and began shaving.

  A knock at the door startled him, and the knife pressed into his left cheek, making it bleed. He cursed lightly under his breath before speaking.

  “Come in.”

  Xython stepped in and nodded to Searon. He wasn’t wearing his purple scale mail armor anymore but was clad in thick leather riding armor. Behind him stood a younger woman, ebony skinned the same as Xython, with a fearful glance in her eyes. She appeared to be dressed for riding as well with black leather armor and a cape with bow an
d quiver at her belt.

  “What’s this?” Searon demanded.

  “My sister.”

  Searon inspected the young woman. She appeared to be in her twenties and frail in contrast to her large teddy bear of a brother. Yet her facial features did resemble that of Xython, with her small rounded nose, puffed lips, and fierce eyes. Her chin was different and pointed rather than rounded, probably a trait from their mother. She had long black hair that had two braids in the front, one with purple and white beads, and the other with green and white beads.

  “The road is dangerous.”

  “I know,” she said.

  “I only wish to take her to Legain where there is more of our family. I do not wish for her to be in a small village with the attacks if I cannot be here to protect her.”

  “As you wish.” He turned to her. “What is your name?”

  “Taasheka.”

  Searon set his knife down on the table and stuck his hand out. She studied it for a moment before gently putting her hand forward. Her fingernails were painted a deep purple and held a few gold rings. Searon gently grabbed her hand in his and brought it up to his lips where he kissed it above the knuckles. She smiled and blushed, turning her head away.

  “It is nice to finally meet you.”

  Xython nodded to Searon, “We will meet you downstairs. Oh, and Searon, I notice you still haven’t learned how to shave without cutting yourself.”

  Searon laughed as his friend closed the door. He looked back in the mirror and wiped the blood with a towel. He continued shaving until it looked like he was ready to meet the king.

  When he finally made his way downstairs, he noticed Karceoles, Xython, and Taasheka sitting at a rounded wooden table, talking. Taasheka seemed to be giggling at the wizard’s words, and Searon sighed and shook his head. Xython had a large grin on his face, and Karceoles seemed to be in a good mood as well. Searon figured that would be the case anyway after what he had seen the night before. He did look twice at the pint of ale in the wizard’s hands. He lay down three gold coins at the bar where the innkeeper stood for the rooms and walked to the table.

  “A bit early to be drinking, is it not?”

  “Not at all. I see it as a bit late to be drinking after what happened last night.”

  Searon’s eyebrows rose and he chuckled lightly. “Let us be off then; the sun has already risen, and traditionally this is later than we leave.”

  Karceoles nodded and downed the rest of his ale before placing the mug on the tabletop along with a silver coin. When they walked outside, they noticed a serving maid holding the reins of four horses. Searon’s black-and-white striped stallion, Karceoles’s beautiful brown mare, a large strong black beauty, and a smaller gray horse.

  Searon removed two gold coins from his bag and handed them to the maid. “Thank you.”

  The maid beamed at such coin and her deep-brown eyes widened below her golden hair. “Thank you.” She smiled the whole way into the inn, clutching the two coins for dear life.

  “That was a bit much. Perhaps two silver coins would have sufficed,” Xython said.

  “Yes, it would have. But two gold coins will give us better service the next time we come through here. Besides, I don’t carry silver coins.”

  “You never have cared much for money. It was always the battle.”

  “For a time, yes. Then it was always Victoria.”

  Xython nodded and got on his large black steed after helping his sister onto her small gray horse. Her horse was at least a span shorter than all the others but an easier horse for her to ride. Searon avoided his old friend’s gaze and climbed on Stripes. The four of them rode through the village to the south side.

  The trails outside the village split in three directions: west, south, and east. They turned east, and the horses began walking at a fast pace. Searon looked south for a long time, longing to see the ocean once more. It was down that path, in the city of Meshsylic that he showed Victoria the ocean for the first time. The memory was troubling, but he wished to see it nonetheless.

  He didn’t wish to think of Victoria anymore, but he couldn’t shut her out. The worst were the memories of that night. Every time he had a good memory of her, the worst would come crashing into him soon after. He hoped that the traveling and the quest would make him forget, at least the amount of time it had been. Yet it still circled in his mind without even thinking about it, without even counting. It was now forty-one months, fifteen days, and six hours since he buried both his wife and child. The torment of knowing, as each second passed by, was torture beyond any he had ever known. Perhaps seeing his brother would help.

  “I think I’ve heard of these daerions as a child. They were always stories told by elders, scary bedtime stories, evil creatures that fought and killed humans. I thought they were supposed to be extinct,” Searon said.

  “They were supposed to be. The kheshlars killed most of them when they came to this land. When they were weakened, the council sent a few of us out to destroy the rest. I chased down a lot myself. These…seem stronger than the ones I fought before. It seems…somebody has been hiding them…and training them,” Karceoles said.

  “There is only one reason to train such creatures. War. It is strange to me that the daerions keep to the south while the draeyks keep to the north. So far, they have been separated, yet their goal is the same. I’m afraid of an alliance.”

  “Yes…that would complicate things. I have a feeling that the wizard who left the council has something to do with this…yet these daerions were trained like kheshlars.”

  “Starlyn’s sister?” Searon shivered as the memory of her came back.

  “Besides the time when you met her, I have not heard about her whereabouts since the war against the kheshlars. She led the draeyks during that time, and it seems clear she is no longer. Perhaps she found new allies to bully. Let’s hope it is her, and not some new threat.”

  “Yes…still, the memory of her makes me shiver. I do not see her being a minor threat. If she’s failed once, perhaps she has learned her mistake. If it is her I believe it will be even more difficult to defeat her.”

  “I agree…she is not to be taken lightly. Come, let us ride fast.”

  The four of them put their horses to a gallop through the flat terrain. The sky was blue with hardly a cloud in the sky. Farms went on for leagues with grain, wheat, fruits, and vegetables. Searon made sure to stop from time to time to buy fresh fruit from the farmers for their travel.

  Chapter 24

  Andron stood with his arms crossed half a dozen paces away from the smokeless green campfire. Starlyn sat on a log next to the strange man a safe distance away from him as she stared in disbelief. Andron’s eyes were wide as they looked from Starlyn to the man in green robes.

  “You two know each other?” Andron asked.

  The man nodded his head toward Andron. Andron flinched and took a step back, unsure about the man before him. He seemed as if he wasn’t human, and that scared Andron. Only weeks ago, the only creature besides humans that Andron was aware of were the draeyks that attacked his village. Then he met kheshlars and a wizard, and his entire world turned upside down. This man sitting in front of them appeared to be neither. His ears weren’t rounded like a human’s but seemed to have a slight point on the top similar to some kheshlars. He didn’t appear to have a staff, or zylek, as the wizard had called it, so he couldn’t be a wizard. Yet it was magic that Andron felt in the air surrounding him as he was tossed to the ground. He shivered as he took a step closer.

  “He helped me in the war the kheshlars had against the draeyks years ago,” Starlyn whispered.

  Andron nodded slowly and turned to her. “What is he?”

  The man stood, brushing his long straight blond hair from his eyes, and bowed before Andron, “My name is Shronan Onderon, but you may simply call me Sh’on. I am a mage.”

  “A mage?” Andron’s forehead wrinkled in thought.

  “Yes, a mage.”

 
“How many different types of magic users are there?”

  “Well…there are wizards, mages, witches, sorceresses, and warlocks. Those are the five stronger fields of magic—while there still are some who have trained themselves and only know small spells. Those are simply called magic users.”

  Andron’s eyebrows rose as he sat down on a stone by the fire across from Sh’on. His concentration was fierce, and he intended to find out as much as he could.

  “What is the difference between a mage and a wizard?”

  “A wizard has more power because they are born with it. Often, they are not aware of it until they reach the age of maturity, but then they find they can conjure spells and feel a remarkable power within them. The power is so strong that if they do not harness it and learn to control it, it can destroy them…and everyone surrounding them. This is why they carry something to control their power, a way to channel it in a controlled manner.”

  “A zylek,” Andron whispered.

  “Yes…many use a zylek, or a scepter of some sort. Each one is created to the type of magic that they hold so it is best used for them.”

  “And a mage?”

  “Mages are not born with magic; it is something that needs to be unlocked within them, or through other means. Some study for years in an attempt to gain control of the power. For some, there is a flicker inside of them that if they find they can harness and control. Mages are not as powerful because a hidden force of magic within us doesn’t tear through our defenses when we reach maturity. Instead, we have to seek for it and grasp it with all of our might. Therefore, once we claw at it and grasp it, we are already in control. Think of it like this: Wizards struggle to keep their power inside of themselves. That’s why they have zyleks, to release the magic that desperately wishes to escape when they are in need. With mages, we have to search for it and grab it before we can release it. This makes what we do not nearly as powerful as a wizard, but sometimes it does make it more controlled.”