by D N Meinster
The air was cool within the keep, and the halls smelled like the caves the Bed Cairns had once dwelled in. Flickering torches provided the only light, leaving many shadows for their enemies to hide in.
She paid no attention to the creaking mountains as she proceeded, trusting only her eyes. Anyone she didn't recognize would be stuck with an arrow. But so far, there was only the occasional body dressed in the watchers’ favored garb. They could be tough to kill when they wore that gray rock armor over their chests, which was dotted or striped with grimy white crystal. Matching helmets left only parts of their face and neck exposed, while heavy leather kilts shielded their legs. The Revolutionaries had no such protection, which made their continued survival during these direct attacks a much more remarkable feat.
As she passed another dead watcher, she realized her brothers were making their way through with haste. They'd undoubtedly arrive at the throne room before her. She only hoped that they'd wait until she joined them before they killed the King.
"Halt!" a voice screamed from behind her.
Loraya spun and let loose her arrow before she got a decent look at the approaching loyalist. He fell face-first at her feet.
"Sometimes, you scare me."
Loraya turned back around and saw Skiff and Kyer ogling her. "What are you two doing?"
"Checking on you," Skiff replied. He ran a finger through his prematurely gray beard. "Kyer was concerned."
Kyer nudged him in the shoulder before he pulled at one of his three ponytails which he’d knotted together. "You know it was Jemmy that asked us to." He looked at her with his eternally sad eyes.
"Both of you are wasting time," she said as she approached. "Let's go!" Loraya ran by them and they chased after her.
Jemmy was the oldest sibling and felt it was his duty to watch over the rest of his family. But he should've known better by now. She never needed to be checked up on. She could handle whatever came her way.
Loraya took out another loyalist that appeared unaware of the intrusion as he stumbled into her path. She jumped over the body and kept going, following the directions she had memorized days ago.
"Loraya!" Skiff complained from behind, but she ignored him. She wanted to get there while the king was still alive.
After making her way around another corner, she ran into the rest of her brothers and their company. They were all engaged with loyalists, who were blocking the entrance to the throne room in order to protect their king.
Loraya began firing arrows immediately, taking out adversaries while they were in the middle of dueling her brothers. One flashed her a grateful smile, while another gave her a look of disapproval.
"More coming," Kyer announced as they finally caught up with their sister.
A sheet of rock was moving down the hall towards them, undoubtedly concealing and protecting a cadre of loyalists.
"Out of the way," her wall of a brother, Yayne, ordered. "We didn't waste all the prop powder in those torches." He ignited a pouch and threw it at the enclosing barrier.
Another explosion shook the foundations of the keep and knocked everyone in the vicinity off their feet.
Loraya recovered quickly, as did many of her brothers.
"Might've been too much," Yayne bellowed as they all helped him back up.
Loraya took out the loyalists that had survived the explosion, leaving the hallway clear of any monarchists.
Jemmy maneuvered his way to his sister and patted her shoulder. "Glad to see you unharmed."
"What did you expect?" she replied.
Jemmy rolled his eyes. "If I could stop being concerned for your well-being, I would."
Loraya was grateful that he cared, but his actions made it seem like he didn't trust her. She twirled the bow in her hand as another in their company ran up to her brother.
"The way is clear," Pats informed them. "Shall we?"
"Lead the way," Jemmy replied, taking one last glance at his sister before heading to the front of the troop.
Skiff patted Loraya on the shoulder. "Don't lose heart. Jemmy knows what you're capable of. You wouldn't be here, otherwise."
Loraya flung Skiff's hand off her. "Like I'd let him start another revolt without me."
"I would've preferred we had more with us this time," Kyer said as he nudged his sister along. "But Jemmy seems to be in a rush."
"He has lived the longest with this king," Skiff replied.
"Right," Kyer responded. "I keep forgetting. It only looks like you've lived the longest."
Skiff punched his brother in the shoulder, but Loraya slapped at both their hands with her bow before they could engage in a lengthy squabble.
"We need to be focused," Loraya said as the group crossed the threshold into the throne room. Though one might infer from its size that there would be much to occupy the room, there was little more than a stone seat to fill its vast space.
"No," she could hear Jemmy murmur from the head of the pack.
"Revolutionaries!" an intense voice boomed from the throne.
"Where is Kahar?" Jemmy shouted back.
Loraya squirmed her way through their companions and to her brother's side. From here, she could make out who was seated in the throne, and it wasn't the King. "Fash," she muttered before whipping an arrow from her quiver.
But Jemmy grabbed her wrist to prevent her from firing.
Fash didn't move nor respond to Jemmy. He watched them from beneath his shaggy black hair and beard.
"And where's his shirt?" Notz asked as he sidled up to his siblings.
Only Notz could joke when they were about to confront one of the Hunters. Fash was all muscle, and even his hairy torso couldn't conceal his intimidating strength.
"They weren't supposed to be here," Jemmy lamented as he stared at the throne.
From behind the stone chair, two more Hunters emerged. Donic, the completely hairless slayer, took a stance on one side, while Tonna, a woman of Loraya's age with nearly as much skill with a bow and arrow, stood on Fash's other side.
"It's a trap!" Skiff screeched as Tonna raised her rock-carved bow and took aim.
Jemmy finally let go of his sister's hand and Loraya raised her own bow and shot Tonna's arrow out of its desired path.
"Retreat!" Jemmy ordered.
But loyalists stormed the entryway and blocked their exit as the Hunter's moved on them from behind.
Jemmy and Skiff moved to intercept Donic, whose fists were wrapped around katars. Her brothers hoisted their own swords, which were longer than Donic's blades but not as nimble.
Fash finally rose from the throne and headed toward them. Yayne, the only one who could possibly match his mass, charged at him.
Loraya took it upon herself to prevent Tonna from taking them out with her arrows. The only problem was that Tonna had a full quiver.
One arrow was knocked off course. Then another. But she couldn't keep it up forever.
Fash let loose a punch on her brother that sent Yayne flying back into nine of the Revolutionaries.
"Who's next?" Fash bellowed.
Pats escaped from beneath Yayne and charged at Fash. He was a mouse of a man, and he dove at Fash's legs and stabbed his foot with a knife. The Hunter howled as Pats hurried away. "Let's go!" he screamed at Jemmy.
Enough loyalists had been taken out that they could potentially make it back the way they came.
But Donic refused to let Jemmy and Skiff out of their duel. His slices were rapid and his movements were unpredictable. A single pause could cost them their lives.
Tonna took aim at the few who were managing to escape, but Loraya fired an arrow straight at Tonna. This time, it was the Hunter who was forced to block.
Back on his feet, Yayne pushed the remaining loyalists out of the way so they could get out of the throne room. "Jemmy!"
Loraya tried to target Donic, but Tonna was not letting up with her own attack. She reached for another arrow and felt only one left in her quiver. "Jemmy! Skiff!" she called for th
em before she nocked it.
Donic sliced upward and was parried by Jemmy, while a horizontal slash was met by Skiff's sword.
Loraya moved toward her brothers, but Fash, dragging his injured foot along, got in her way. His eyebrows were as bushy as his mustache, and his eyes had a permanent look of menace that sent chills down her back.
Fash reached out for her, but she took hold of her arrow and shoved it into his hand. He let loose another scream as she pulled it from its place and fired at Tonna.
But she was too late. Tonna had already sent an arrow at her brothers. And Skiff had been hit.
Skiff went on dueling with Donic, but he was slower and less precise. "Run," he begged Jemmy as he nudged him.
"No," Jemmy replied, continuing to fight.
"Run!" Skiff pushed Jemmy toward Loraya and dove at Donic.
Loraya watched as her brother impaled himself on both of the Hunter's blades. Her mouth fell as she stared, unable to comprehend what she was seeing. She didn't blink. She didn't pay attention to what Fash or Tonna were doing. She could only see the silver sticking out of her brother's back; see the blood flowing from his wounds onto the floor.
Jemmy tugged at her arm and forced her along with him as he escaped from the room. "Make haste!" he begged as they navigated the stone corridors.
Loraya couldn't make her legs move any faster. She didn't know what they were doing or where they were going.
The unmistakable whizz of an approaching arrow caught her ear. She glanced back and knocked it off course with her bow.
"Loraya!" Jemmy lifted her straight off the ground and carried her as he sped through the keep and back to the entry doors.
Yayne was there, waiting for them. "Took you long enough," he said, throwing the remains of the prop powder at the door and lighting it up as soon as they made it through.
The surviving Revolutionaries ran from Valiant Keep as its main doors were marred by an explosion and began to crumble.
Jemmy set Loraya down and addressed his companions. "Meet at the designated location by dawn. No sooner."
"Skiff?" Kyer inquired.
Jemmy shook his head and Loraya finally allowed the tears to fall.
"Dammit." Kyer took off with the rest of them. Only Jemmy stayed behind with his sister.
"We can mourn later," Jemmy assured her. "The Hunters will catch us if we give them enough time."
Time. Her brother had no more left. He was gone. Dead. While all of the Hunters got to live.
She reached at her quiver, only to find it empty.
Jemmy latched onto her hand. "They'll pay," he promised.
As she got back up and readied to move, Loraya made a vow that she would eliminate them as they had eliminated her brother. All she needed was to reach a stash of arrows. And once they were gone, there would be no one to stop the next revolt.
Chapter Two
Sinful
Year Nine of the Dark Reign (9 D.R.)
While most had settled on Noon or Rise after the exile from Kytheras, those looking for peace had been able to find it on the Isle of Set, the smallest of the Twilight Islands. There were not as many beaches on the tiny rock, nor as many people, but it still had crisp air and a gorgeous view of the Unending Seas.
On a low-hanging cliff, isolated from even the minute population of the island, a cabin had been constructed not long after the Dark Reign began. But there'd been no workers nor accompanying sounds of labor to alert the locals of its emergence. One day it wasn't there, and the next day, it was.
Nevertheless, none of the Twileans were particularly concerned about its appearance, though not many of them noticed it to begin with. Those that did knew that the new arrivals had brought with them more mages than the Islands had seen for centuries. They might shake their head in passing, or mutter about "Magic," as they came across the newest lodge, but never did they disturb its single occupant. Grace had wanted it that way.
In less than a year, she'd lost the man she felt closest to in the world, the King that had earned her devotion, the home that she'd known all her life, and she'd been violated by another mage. Even after all that, Grace might've kept fighting, but there was one bit of knowledge that stunted her motivation. She knew that everything was going to turn out okay. And based on what the future held, Grace was not going to be part of it.
Some days it was harder to stay away than others. A yearning for vengeance would sneak up on her and demand she take action. Sometimes, playing through her conversations with Rikki wouldn't be enough to sate the desire. So she'd go out onto her dock, stick her feet up, conjure up a fishing line, and launch it out into the seas.
There was something about waiting for a fish to nibble on her bait that drained away the more painful cravings. She didn't need the fish to eat; she'd tended to a vegetable garden at the front of her cabin. And she didn't need a line to catch one; she could summon it right out of the seas if she so wanted. But the time it took to get one, as the sun beat down and warmed her up while a breeze from the waters cooled her down, created a perfectly serene environment that could not be matched anywhere else in Kytheras.
These moments alone were what she lived for, now. So far removed from the politics and peasantry was she that there had never been a disturbance in all her time on the island. It was exactly the life she desired after the turbulence that had led to her expulsion.
Grace had let her brown hair grow long in her years in seclusion. Though she wrapped herself in blue shawls almost daily, if she truly wished, she could wrap her hair around her body to stay covered. Every once in a while, she considered the option. But there was always this nagging feeling like the day she actually did it would be the day she'd have her first visitor. While she certainly had a reputation by now amongst her former colleagues and classmates, she certainly didn't want to add perpetual nudity to their description of her. It was bad enough knowing that they would never transcribe her existence in the first place.
The scent of the seas tickled the inside of her nose just as the fishing line began to shake. With but a thought, the line began to recede from the waters, dragging along with it an orange fish the size of her foot. She watched it panic from the end of the line, flopping against the side of the deck and swinging hopelessly from the line as it tried to desperately to return from whence it came.
When she could take no more of its attempts to allay its suffocation, the line it hung from vanished, and it fell back into the seas. She already had dinner for today. But if it ever took her bait again, it may not be so lucky.
Grace picked herself up and skulked to the edge of the dock. She leaned over it, taking a full gust in the face as her hair twisted and knotted in the winds. It was a bit nippy for a swim, though she knew that the waters would be balmy if she dove in. The problem would be when she left the waters.
Her view out into the Unending Seas was unobstructed by the mainland. She could pretend they didn't exist as she watched the waves turn and the occasional dolphin hop out from its home, only to return seconds later.
Those names that once meant so much could be forgotten in this place. Neanthal. Aergo. Uterak. Amelia.
It was only Rikki that had clung to her mind. The girl from the future. The descendant of Amelia.
Grace tried to shake the memory away. She wanted one day when she didn't think about it. That's all she had truly wished for when she came out here.
But every day, she'd see that magenta hair. She'd hear that voice lying to her before finally revealing the truth. How many years would it take before she could let it go?
Grace spat into the seas and almost missed a rather obvious creak emanate from her cabin.
Her heart sped up as she considered the possibilities of what it could be. Perhaps a crab or bird had made its way inside her shelter. Or maybe an old friend from the castle had finally come to check up on her.
Both options seemed doubtful.
Gripping tightly on her staff, Grace cautiously turned and made her way acros
s the dock.
There was no follow-up to the original sound. Stray vermin wouldn't care if it kept making noise. Only a person would. Only an intruder would.
With a jab of her staff, the entire cabin collapsed. The walls fell inward and the roof fell onto whatever soul thought it wise to break into her home.
And then the cabin reconstructed itself like she hadn't caused it to implode at all.
So it wasn't any intruder that had tried to sneak up on her. It was a mage.
"Reveal yourself!" Grace demanded.
Stepping through the solid wall like it was an open door was a young man dressed in lime attire with multiple belts. His hair matched the color of his clothing, though his eyes stood out for they were a ferocious shade of yellow.
"And you are?" Grace asked
"Kas," he replied. "And this is Rayla and Urto."
Two more mages materialized at his side. Rayla had short brown hair reminiscent of Grace's old look, though she wore robes of black and red. Urto had a full beard that hung halfway down his chest, and the color of his coat was nearly identical to the fish she had caught earlier. On each of their cheeks was an unusual scar: the top of it resembled an upside-down pyramid, while the bottom was shaped like a heart. It was Neanthal's brand.
"Thalians?" Grace identified the allegiance of the intruders. "What the shit do you want?"
Their three staffs all pointed in her direction.
Grace rose her arms. "What did I do?"
"It's not so much what you did," Kas replied. "It's what you're capable of."
Grace studied the three sin mages like she couldn't believe they were being serious. There was a whole other island filled with mages that wanted to depose Neanthal and had been carefully stoking a rebellion in Kytheras. But these three came here, after her. She who had done nothing to anyone since being exiled. And that really pissed her off.
"I haven't engaged in combat for quite some time," Grace told the intruders. She raised her blue and white staff, the petals surrounding her channeling crystal appearing to shiver with anxiousness. "So forgive me if I accidently disintegrate you."
The three sin mages snorted and cackled but didn't make the first move.