by D N Meinster
Doren knew where this was heading. He and his friends already had their weapons out. It was only a matter of time before Slythe and his Roamers took out theirs. They were going to fight, even though they might have been on the same side. It didn't make sense. It shouldn't have to lead to this.
He stepped forward. "We can work together," Doren suggested. "There are others after the Keys; those that would open the Door. But with eight of us, I don't think they'd stand much of a chance."
As Slythe considered Doren's words, a repulsive creaking noise permeated the air. The charred and simmering remains of a nearby structure collapsed on itself. All eyes locked onto the site of the implosion, distracting them from the intruder in their midst.
Standing between both groups was Sarin, still wearing the same patched up navy-blue outfit and pearl white half-mask that he had during his time in Kytheras. But there was a growing crack in the mask now, a relic of his last battle with Doren, and fresh scars on the visible side of his face. The shininess of his hair was diluted by layers of ash and recently spilled blood, while his hands were deformed by the flames that had destroyed Lemon Village.
"Don't tell me you're going to make peace," Sarin whined, his voice as damaged as the rest of him. "I wanted to see a decent fight. Sure, you've got an army on each side of Faunli, but they're just sitting there. Haven't done a damn thing. You guys were about to go at it. So come on. You both want the Keys. That's not gonna work."
"Sarin," Doren grumbled.
"Sarin?" one of the Roamers repeated with a quivering voice.
"Sarin," Sarin said, adding a cackle at the end.
Three of the Roamers spun in place, whipping up their cloaks and speeding up before disappearing entirely. Only Slythe and the silver-cloaked individual remained.
"Look at what saying my name does," Sarin said, an abhorrent smile forming on his brutish face. "That's how you know you're someone important."
"Not possible," Slythe said.
"It's sin magic!" Rikki shouted at him. "He's with the Thalians!"
With that, Slythe spun in place, but after disappearing, he reappeared at Rikki's side. "Take the Key and get out of here. I can handle this." A chrome blade slid down from each sleeve of Slythe's cloak and into his hands. They were odd swords, with hilts that were twice as long as the blades at their ends.
"We've fought him before," Doren told this Roamer.
"And there he stands," Slythe retaliated.
Doren wasn't about to leave this to Slythe. It would be five-on-one, and Doren had nearly managed to beat Sarin when it was one-on-one. They could end this now. Sarin had destroyed Lemon Village and massacred every one of its residents. He couldn't be allowed to do this again.
Rikki showed no intention of leaving, but Aros seemed apathetic to the entire conflict. He hadn't even said anything since Slythe's arrival. Yet this was somehow an improvement from his prior actions.
"I would warn you that he has magic," Rikki said, "but it appears you do as well. You can shift."
"It's not that simple," Slythe said. His attention turned to the only remaining Roamer. "Yuurei!"
A broad silver sword fell down from Yuurei's sleeve and into his grasp. It was the most normal-looking blade present, though it was exceptionally slender.
"I have tricks, too!" Sarin exclaimed, but his hands froze as he made to snap his fingers. He grimaced as he examined the extent of the damage to his appendages. "Pretend I snapped!" Two spears appeared above each of his shoulders, hovering in the air and waiting to strike.
"Stay back," Slythe warned as he charged toward the resurrected Thalian. He raised an arm and prepared to land a blow on Sarin, but a spear hastily zoomed between them to block.
"Do we have to listen to him?" Doren asked, ready to follow in Slythe's path.
"Let's let him weaken Sarin," Aros urged. "So then I can finish him off."
"Rikki?" Doren said, hoping for guidance but expecting her to listen to Aros.
She tucked her staff close to her chest. "Aros has a point."
Of course. He frowned while the frustration boiled inside of him. Why did she insist on taking his side?
Doren kept his shield out but committed to only watch. He hated that Rikki agreed with Aros, but he would follow along for now.
Slythe was undoubtedly an impressive combatant. Yuurei remained on the sidelines as well, while the lead Roamer sliced up Sarin's spears and nearly landed blows on the Thalian.
Spears shot up from the ground as Sarin tried to surprise his foe, but Slythe spun away before they could impale him.
He reappeared at Sarin's side, sending two jabs toward Sarin but hitting only the corrosive air.
Sarin grabbed two spears out of the air and slammed them down on Slythe, whose short swords held them at bay while two more spears appeared in the air.
Now Yuurei got involved. He knocked both spears off course before they could hit his leader.
Sarin let go of the spears and hopped back, leaving Slythe to smack both remaining spears from the battlefield.
"I seem to be at a disadvantage," Sarin said while he examined his hands. Blood was accumulating in his palms and dripping onto the ground.
This seemed like the perfect time. Doren brought his shield back and flung it forward, sending it on a trajectory that ended right on Sarin. He expected Aros to join the fight, but his friend stood in place.
Slythe knocked the shield off its path before it could reach Sarin. He kicked it back toward its owner before resuming his attack.
Sarin didn't summon a spear this time. He thrust his palm forward before Slythe could complete his swing and sent the Roamer soaring back.
Slythe twirled his blades before noticing the stain left on his cloak. Sarin had marked him with the bloody imprint of his hand. As Slythe went to rub it off, he wound up covering his own hand in blood.
"I knew you had dirty hands," Sarin gleefully taunted.
"Together," Slythe demanded, and he and Yuurei sped toward the Thalian.
But Sarin enclosed himself behind a stockade of spears, and by the time the Roamers broke through the shafts, he was gone.
"We should have helped them," Doren said as he picked up his shield.
"They're not meant to kill Sarin," Aros replied.
Slythe's blades slid back up his sleeves before he made to approach the trio. Evidently, he still did not want to fight them. "You three can watch after the Key for now. We'll take care of Sarin. But we will be back for it."
And before any of them could respond, Yuurei and Slythe spun in place and vanished.
Chapter Twelve
Rumors of a Beast
1 D.R.
King Aergo sat alone at the High Council's table. All of his advisors had left the chamber an hour ago, when their meeting had ended and the King had been brought up to speed. But Aergo had not been able to move. His temples throbbed and his heart ached as he went over each of their reports in his head. None of it made sense, and not a one of them could verify the veracity of their words. It was all rumors and conjecture; whispers spread from the ends of Kytheras. He had not even heard of it until today. But they had thought it real enough to bring to him.
And there was a certain truth to all of it that augmented the already ample stress Aergo bore as the ruler of the Five Kingdoms. These sudden pains were not caused by the possibility of the realities he suddenly found himself confronted with, but the actuality of a truth that had until now been unspoken and kept from his ears. He knew it was all true, whether he wanted to believe it or not; whether he wanted to accept it or not. No, he did not want it to be, but there was only so much power a king had. And he did not have the power to make that what was true not true at all.
A quake in Terrastream was not some illogical event and could have easily been downplayed as an act of nature. Terrible and destructive, sure. But not so uncommon as to inspire disbelief. However, a monster rising out of the cracks in the earth? That was more likely to be the tale of a drunkard, o
r of a child trying to comprehend a world that was still beyond his uneducated mind. Aergo could have easily dismissed such a story as a fabrication and moved on to the next order of business.
In Faunli, the Emperor had died. That, too, was not so surprising that it needed to be accepted with some skepticism. He was an old man, still sitting on a throne that did not carry as much glory as it had mere decades ago. That he had finally departed this world was no tremendous story. It was more notable how many years he had clung to life after a defeat that had ruined his name and his family. The Phodos dynasty had not been well regarded after the Conjugation Skirmish, as many Fauns had blamed them for their loss as much as they blamed Aergo himself.
Taken together, these two events would seem unlikely but certainly reasonable. Nothing that would require further investigation or action. As unusual as they were, they were not so unusual as to inspire doubt.
No, doubt sprang from the specifics of that which turned the unusual into the improbable, or even the impossible.
It was not just a normal earthquake in Terrastream. A beast of magnificent size broke through the crust of the earth and went on a kingdom-sized rampage. There were too many casualties and too many witnesses to believe that this was some tall tale. But what did such an event connote? That there were creatures beneath the very ground the kingdom was built on that could one day swallow them whole if they desired? It was silly; absurd even, and to wrap one's mind around such a possibility was enough to lead to the headache pounding away at Aergo's mind.
Yet here, the story became even more fantastical. For not only did this beast wreck Terrastream in so many ways, but it transformed into a man that led an army of inexplicable entities to the very capital of Faunli and subsequently stole the kingdom away from the Phodos dynasty by killing its leader and usurping the throne.
Neanthal.
This name made Aergo's stomach churn so violently that, had he not skipped breakfast, he would have undoubtedly regurgitated it on the stone table before him.
But even this new emperor that promised to take Faunli back into a state of rebellion could not occupy all the busy thoughts collecting in Aergo's mind. For when confronted, this Neanthal spoke of a goddess with such conviction that it almost confirmed rumors of a higher being that had circulated in Kytheras for at least a century.
Magenine.
What was happening in Kytheras was beyond mortal men. And yet, it was left to mortal men to deal with that which they almost certainly could not.
Aergo pulled at his silver hairs, certain that they would lose their color in days if stories like this continued to reach him. His tan skin, not yet wrinkled, would pucker and crease until all the stress of the decades of his rule were suddenly evident to everyone that stood in his presence. This green coat and steel sword would be all that resembled the young man that had once been king.
His palm touched his elongated nose as he rested his head between his fingers, growing tired of all the thoughts his High Council had stirred in him.
"Never before have you faced a challenge like this," a female voice sliced through the formerly silent chamber.
Aergo looked to his visitor, wishing he had been left to gather his thoughts for enough time so that his headache might subside. The Grand Mage was a few seats away, her pastel skin seeming to glow in the rather limited light of the room. Amelia had kept her auburn hair tied in a bun, letting only the wing-encircled crystal hang down below her neck. Her dress was embellished with an odd pattern of woven-in half-circles and chains, all of which were a dark enough green to contrast well with the white cloth. And in her hand was her usual staff, with extended silver wings that matched her necklace.
"Or, at least not in some forty years or so," Amelia amended her statement.
"It is too much for an old mind like mine to take in so many new facts at once," Aergo said. "I believe I may be getting too far up in my years."
"Complain to me when you reach nearly one hundred and forty," Amelia said, acknowledging how many more years she had on her king.
"Since I am not a mage, I don't think I would see such a year," Aergo said. "Thank goodness." After a pause, he added "Or thank the Goddess? Should I be saying that now?"
"That all depends on whether you believe in Her," Amelia said.
"Quentin would have me believe, as would this Neanthal. You are the wisest of all of our mages. Tell me who I should have faith in."
"Yourself, more than any other," Amelia stated. "Even if there is a goddess, which, I must admit, I am inclined to believe."
"As am I," Aergo replied. "Though this higher being has not made my day any easier."
Amelia rested her staff on the table and leaned toward the King. "Have you decided on a course of action yet?"
"Have you come back so soon after our meeting to ask me that?" Aergo asked, massaging his temples. He was still trying to understand the situation he was in and had not even considered what must be done to respond to it.
"Actually, I came because your son was looking for you," Amelia informed him.
"Which son?" he asked.
"The one that still likes seeing you," Amelia answered.
Aergo nodded, trying not to dwell too much on his own familial problems. Those could wait for another day, one with less internal anguish and external uncertainty. "I suppose I should not stay up here much longer, or the entire castle will begin to wonder." He did not need gossip spreading in his absence. Yet he really was not prepared for the bombardment of questions that awaited him; questions like what Amelia had just asked.
Amelia could see the debate raging within the King. "The two of us can plan better than if the whole council was here bickering. Let's chart a course now, before our enemy takes an even greater lead."
"The council will not like that," Aergo muttered.
"A debate that can be had at the next meeting," Amelia replied. "What is your first inclination?"
For all the information he received, the reaction to an enemy was fairly clear. "We must learn as much about this Neanthal as possible, and then we must kill him." After listening to himself, he added, "Ideally without starting another war."
"We will infiltrate Radite then. I can go myself," Amelia suggested.
"You are needed here," Aergo stated.
"Hatswick then," she said, placing a great amount of trust in the second most powerful mage.
Aergo shook his head. "Hatswick lacks the tact for stealth. It needn't be a mage. Magic could call Neanthal's attention."
"A guardian then?" Amelia asked.
"Yes," Aergo replied, going over the guardians he trusted most. It would definitely not be Rantiford. The King would have no other constantly at his side. But there was a guardian with much promise who had yet to disappoint. "Uterak."
"Him?" Amelia said. "Not the most obvious choice to slip into Faunli."
"His skill and demeanor are unmatched. Uterak will go to Radite and learn about this beast that sits on the throne."
"Let me send a mage with him," Amelia requested. "Grace or Spira."
"Neither," Aergo said. "Uterak goes alone. If he fails, then..." Aergo didn't want to complete the thought.
"It doesn't have to be war," Amelia responded. "There are other methods we can rely on."
Aergo understood what she implied. Stealth was not only a means of gathering information, but could be a tool in an assassination. And there were plenty of assassins rotting away in the bowels of Castle Tornis. For their freedom, and for gems, he could likely sway one of the best to do his bidding. But he deplored such an occupation and had locked them away for a reason. To think that he may go begging for their help, it was enough to worsen his already ailing disposition.
"Don't bring such things up again unless we're desperate," Aergo ordered.
"If Uterak fails, we will be." Amelia snatched up her staff and rose up from her seat. "Come. Your son is waiting."
Aergo strained to paint an expression of hopefulness on his face before he aba
ndoned the chamber. But his lips refused to turn in a way that might comfort those who saw him, and his eyes could only reflect the despairing thoughts still churning in his mind. He did not want to face anyone but the Queen like this. Not even his son.
"I'll be along soon," Aergo said, dismissing the Grand Mage. She gave him a sympathetic glance before her body started to fade and she shifted out of the room.
Aergo rested his cheek on the table, the smooth wooden surface as cold as the dank chamber. He did not have much of a plan; only the hint of one. And he prayed to the Goddess that it would succeed.
Uterak's home was meager, lacking all but the simplest of furnishings. He had no family to speak of, nor any lovers. His devotion had been solely to his duty as a guardian, a fact that Aergo greatly appreciated, more now than ever before. No one would ask questions while he was away, and few would even notice he was gone. It was almost as if he had always been meant to do this.
Uterak Denn was a menacing figure, with muscles wider than his swords and eyes darker than his brown skin. His height would be imposing to a normal man, though Aergo had several inches on him, and his mustache would've inferred a rather unpleasant demeanor, though the King was aware that he was relatively friendly. It was odd to see him without his armor, but even in a rather bland shirt, he was a figure that commanded respect.
Aergo and Amelia had not told him they were coming, yet he was not at all surprised to see them. Did guardians expect that their ruler could show up at their house at any time? Or was Uterak just not the type to get flustered?
While Amelia appeared to gaze through every wall in the house to make sure they were alone, Aergo took note of Uterak's living quarters. If he were to succeed, he would need to be rewarded. A better home, with more than one cushioned chair and decorated walls, would be the best gift. Aergo certainly wouldn't have wanted to live in a place like this. Why would Uterak?
"We are alone," Amelia said after her examination.
"I could have told you that," Uterak replied.