FARHAYVEN: VENGEANCE

by S. K. Ng

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  ACCUSATIONS AND CHARGES

  Is this what death feels like? There is not a single sight, sound, smell, taste or touch; it is a void! Or is it really? But there is thought and there is awareness, for I think and I am aware. Is this how I am to stay forever?

  I remember the sensations, the sight of beauty, the sound of music, the smell of freshness and perfume, the tastes of sweetness and saltiness. I remember the touch of heat and coldness. I remember my childhood and the friends that I had. I remember the mischief that we would get up to in school. I remember it all! They play in my mind like a puppy running on a grassy field.

  But ugliness takes over my vision now. The horrible cries of pain and anguish, the smell of rotting corpses on blood-soaked battlefields, the tastes of sourness and bitterness and the sharp pain of blows and cuts, they take over my vision now. I remember the sea of red that is the blood of my comrades and enemies alike. This sickening colour of red!

  This void, this place that I am in; shall this be my heaven, or shall this be my hell? Who decides? What decides? How does one decide? When does one decide? Why should one decide? But why should one not decide? Can I let go of who I am, the part of me that is ugly and monstrous; so that I may earn my peace of mind? But will I still be me if I do so? Who am I? Who am I? My memory begins to fade. The beauty and the ugly, both equally fading away. I am forgetting… Should I let myself forget, or should I not? But wait, it is slowly coming back again. A sound… It is a sound… yes, the sound of a name… It is a name… It is my name… My name… My name… is…

  THORN SAYVION.

  Minvian Thorn Sayvion woke up with a start. Sharp pains in his chest made him cry out in muffled agony. But after a while, the plain colour of white greeted his eyes. The sound of birds chirping gladdened his heart. The fresh smell of flowers lifted his spirit. A slight smile cut across his face as he realised one important fact, that he was still alive! But where was he? He looked around. His eyes fell upon the emblem on top of the door frame. It was the symbol of the ‘dove and waterfalls’ design of the Kingdom of Free Falls. He was home!

  A female healer entered the room and sat herself down beside Thorn’s bed. He wanted to talk to her, but she pressed her finger against her lips; asking..., no, instructing him to be silent! She put the palm of her hand on his forehead, nodded her head in satisfaction and then proceeded to change the bandage on his right forearm. He could see a long deep gash when the bandage was removed. He grimaced a little when the woman applied some dark bluish liquid to the wound. Then she wrapped a new roll of bandage over the wound. Without saying a single word, she got up and left the room.

  A minvian-ranked Provincial Guard entered the room. He walked up to Thorn and smiled kindly.

  “Name and rank, soldier!?” he demanded.

  “Minvian Thorn Sayvion, 1st Pond, One, 3rd Ocean,” replied Thorn.

  “I am Minvian Cluster Prodence, commander of 2nd Pond, Three, 3rd Ocean. How is it, Minvian Sayvion, that you ended up being here?” asked the Provincial Guard.

  “I was taken prisoner during the Serpentian raid many months ago. I escaped and made my way back to the border. The last thing that I remember was that I falling into an icy cold river. Where... where is this place?” said Thorn.

  “You are in Garrison Crystalflow, minvian. This is our infirmary. Several days ago, some of the villagers who lived on the outskirts of town found you washed up by the riverbank. They brought you here. 1st Pond, 1st Lake, you said? Fort Eastguard?” said Minvian Prodence.

  “Affirmative, minvian,” replied Thorn.

  ‘I shall be sending a despatch to ocean headquarters. They should be sending someone to debrief you in a few days time. Meanwhile, you just try to relax. Our healer is well experienced in the art of healing. And you are free to leave the infirmary when she judges that you are fit, but you are not to leave the garrison. The exevian will arrange quarters for you. Our western parapets have a good view of Crystalflow. Minvian, welcome home,” explained Minvian Prodence.

  “Thank you, I am glad to be home,” expressed Thorn.

  Minvian Prodence left the infirmary. Thorn got up from his bed and went to look out the nearest window. The familiar sight of soldiers marching, training and busy moving around performing chores proved comforting. He was home! HE WAS HOME!

  Thorn had not forgotten about Caramel Verance, though. He was determined to go back for her, and for the others who were still enslaved at the metal ore mine. He swore that he would go back for all of them. But first, he needed to recover his strength and spirit. Then he needed to get permission to organise a rescue party in order to execute what was called a ‘Liberation Raid’.

  Novice Elementhar Lance Arman sat silently at the rear of the classroom while the teacher in front continued teaching Fallsian History. He was not absorbing any of the information that was being disseminated. He was uncomfortable. He was in a foreign environment. But he knew that he would have to adapt sooner or later. Ray had explained to him the importance of education. He had said that it was not just about getting a qualification so that one would have a high-paying job, but more importantly, it was about developing intelligence so that one knew how to think and make good decisions throughout one’s life. Based on the Cousins Genox’s recommendation, Ray had enrolled Lance into Fallsene Brightshield Educational.

  Getting into Fallsene Brightshield would normally be difficult, if not impossible, for someone like Lance. But with recommendations from Recavian Hammer Genox, Orgavian Castle Genox and most of all, Prince Eagle Patrum himself, Lance’s place in Fallsene Brightshield was guaranteed. But it still did not make it any easier for this simple farm boy to sit amongst the children of high ranking military officials. Perhaps it was because of this that he subconsciously chose to be seated in the back of the classroom, so that he could be unnoticeable. At this moment, Spirit the White Wolf strolled into the classroom and sat on an empty seat next to Lance, which Lance had prepared for him.

  The teacher stopped her lesson and gave Lance an infuriated stare.

  “Lance, why is that beast in my classroom?” she asked.

  “Beast _ Spirit is not one of this, but a loyal friend instead; please respect his rights!” answered Lance.

  “What manner of madness!? Animals do not have rights!” objected the teacher disbelievingly.

  “Wrong _ you are of this, madam. Rights _ of this, animals have aplenty, more so in the case of my friend Spirit; and since you are ignorant, I shall name them for you. Rights _ the first of these is that since animals breathe, eat, drink, defecate, and sense hot, cold, pleasure and pain just like we do and are living beings just like us, and because the basic right of all living being is to live, therefore we must acknowledge and respect the fact that animals have the right to live, just like how we acknowledge and respect the right of any human to live; the second is that since animals have feelings and emotions just as humans do, in such terms they should be treated like how we treat our fellow humans; the third is that animals are much more loyal and trustworthy than any human can possibly be, therefore this nobility of their character must be respected; the fourth is that in accordance with the doctrine of the Receivers of Truth, all animals were either humans who had made grave mistakes in their past lives or are souls from lower forms in transit to being born as humans so they are basically human beings and should be treated almost as such; the fifth is that my friend Spirit has saved countless human lives through demon-hunting and also through the locating of survivors in disaster-hit areas, as such, he should be treated like a hero, not like a pest,” Lance pointed out in a firm, matter-of-factly voice.

  The teacher shook her head. Nothing of what Lance said had made any sense to her. But truly, she was ignorant.

  “What? Feelings, emotions, doctrines of the Receivers of Truth, Nonsense, Lance! We are humans, and they are animals, that is it!” she ridiculed.

  “Wrong _ you are of this, they are animals and we are just slightly mor
e advanced animals, madam!” insisted Lance.

  “The boy is right, Mrs. Narmin,” said a highly ranked and well decorated soldier as he stepped into the classroom.

  “Orgavian Castle Genox, we are honoured by your presence. But what do you mean when you say that the boy is right?” asked the teacher.

  “Exactly what I said, Mrs. Narmin. That wolf there helped to save several lives during the relief efforts when Southgust Town was flooded by a broken dam about a month ago. He should be treated like a hero. Anyway, I am here to apologise. My youngest son, Iron, here, is late for your class and I am here to explain the reason why,” said Orgavian Genox.

  At that instant, a 13-year old boy entered the classroom, bowed to the teacher and went straight to his seat.

  “Oh, no matter, orgavian! I am sure it was a sound reason,” said Mrs. Narmin.

  “But I feel compelled to explain anyway. Since I was going to attend a meeting at Palace Liberty today, I thought that I would give my son Iron a ride as well. Normally my servant would be the one responsible to transport him here. However, the army carriage that was sent for me broke down on the way here and it took a long time to get it fixed, hence our late arrival, so once again Mrs. Narmin, I apologise,” explained Orgavian Genox.

  “Well then, orgavian; if it eases your conscience, I accept your explanation and apology,” said Mrs. Narmin.

  “Thank you, Mrs. Narmin. I shall disrupt your class no further. Good day!” said the orgavian as he bowed, and in receiving Mrs. Narmin’s acknowledging bow; turned around and left the classroom.

  Mrs. Narmin continued on with her lessons, ignoring the presence of Spirit the White Wolf. Lance tried to focus on the lesson, but his mind kept drifting away. Iron Genox, who sat next to Lance, stood his book up to cover his face.

  “Lance, how is the investigation going? Who is trying to kill Prince Patrum?” he asked in a whisper.

  “Tell _ I cannot do of this to you,” answered Lance quietly.

  “Come on, Lance. We are friends, are we not? You have got to tell me! My sister, Serene, does not tell me anything. It is always ‘operational secret’ with her. Frankly, I am beginning to hate those words!” pleaded Iron in desperation.

  “Tell _ I cannot do of this to you either, because, well, it is an operational secret, is it not?” explained Lance.

  Iron gave Lance an angry look from behind his book.

  “Does not matter, then. I shall just go and ask cousin Clover,” said Iron to himself.

  “Tell _ she will not do of this to you either,” said Lance.

  “Oh, let me guess… operational secret!?” said Iron sarcastically.

  “Yes,” confirmed Lance.

  “Damn, how am I to grow up and become a great warrior and to carry on the great Genox legacy when every corner I go I get operational secret shoved in my face!” said Iron in frustration, just a little bit too loudly.

  “Quiet back there!” warned Mrs. Narmin.

  Lance and Iron sat up straight and put on the most ‘angelic’ expression they could muster. Pleased with their submission, Mrs. Narmin resumed her lesson. Lance and Iron forced themselves to pay attention to Mrs. Narmin and her long, boring lecture.

  Spirit had no idea what the whole point of sitting half a day in this room was all about. He was waiting for Lance. It was time to play and he would like to run around in the green and well-trimmed garden of Palace Liberty and lie down under the warm sun while Lance scratched the back of his ears. He felt a little bit sad. His pack seemed to be dispersing. Ray, Clover and Serene were nowhere to be found. And now, Lance was kept prisoner in this weird room for half a day. He missed the togetherness that they used to have, back in the days when it was just Ray, Lance and him.

  It rained lightly on the 5th Morning of Fourth Month of Dry Season. The early morning downpour was a welcomed event as the plants throughout Free Falls were beginning to wither and the roads were turning too dusty. Minvian Ray Iddell stood in the infirmary of Castle Greenbloom, starring at Dawn’s unconscious body, whose hands and legs were chained to the bed frame. He had in his hands a bucket of cold water. Then, to the great alarm of the healers nearby, he splashed the icy cold water on her face. The female assassin woke with a start and tried to clutch the left side of her chest, her mouth gaping wide for air and a facial expression contorted with pain.

  “Are you crazy!?” yelled one of the healers.

  “You could have killed her!” yelled another healer.

  “Get out! She could be having a heart attack! We need to stabilize her!” instructed the third healer.

  “Leave now!” commanded the first healer.

  “No,” replied Ray as he pulled out his knife and pointed its tip towards the throat of the first healer.

  The first healer gulped his saliva in fear. Meanwhile, the other two healers wiped the cold water off the female assassin’s face and body and tried to calm her down as best as they could.

  The expression on Dawn’s face began to relax. The pain in her chest had subsided. She lay her head back down and shut her eyes.

  “Minvian, this is an infirmary. You have no authority here. How dare you endanger the life of our patient and threaten our lives as well!?” chastised the third healer.

  “Authority _ by my blade is mine of this, and seeing that she is my prisoner; a prisoner for me to torture and kill as I see fit, I so choose to endanger her life!” retorted Ray.

  “You are crazy. You have lost touch with reality. Minvian, I suggest you sheath you dagger and take a week’s leave. You have lost your sense of rationality,” said the second healer.

  “Leave _ do of this now!” commanded Ray.

  “We are going to report you!” said the third healer as they left the infirmary.

  Ray sat himself down next to Dawn’s bed, but at a reasonably safe distance.

  “Name!?” asked Ray.

  “Dawn Breven, Lead Assassin of the Shadow Deathmerchant Clan,” answered the female assassin.

  “Prince Patrum _ of him, why are you trying to kill?” asked Ray.

  Dawn was silent.

  “Lair _ where is yours of it?” asked Ray mechanically.

  “The Lair? Hah! You’ll never find it,” answered Dawn.

  “Targets _ who are the others of these of the Shadow Deathmerchant Clan?” asked Ray mechanically.

  Dawn was silent again.

  “Clients _ who are of them of your clan?” asked Ray mechanically.

  Dawn was silent yet again.

  Dawn’s silence did not surprise Ray. He had expected her to be uncooperative. She would not be such a dangerous assassin if she was.

  Ray stared at Dawn. Dawn stared at the ceiling. The next few questions were really the important ones, as far as Ray was concerned.

  “Reason _ what was it of this for which you slaughtered the Order of Fire Elementhars 15 years ago?” asked Ray monotonously.

  “Money,” was Dawn’s equally monotonous answer.

  “Money _ of this, whose did you and your clan receive?” questioned Ray.

  “I don’t know. That mission was before my time,” replied Dawn.

  “Reason _ what was it of this that your client wanted my order slaughtered?” questioned Ray further.

  “I don’t know. All I know is what my uncle told me. 15 years ago, our clan was hired by someone who was rich enough to afford our services. He called himself Baron Chessmaster or something like that. He wanted your order completely destroyed. Not a single one of you was allowed to survive. There was supposed to be an item that they had to look for as well, but they hadn’t found it that night. I don’t know what that item was supposed to be. Our clan was paid only half of what was promised to us for that mission, because it wasn’t completed to the contractual criteria; but our clanmaster told the rest of us that we had been betrayed, that the mission was completed successfully but the client refused to pay us the full amount. For many years, many people including myself thought that my uncle was delusional. But now I know tha
t he was telling the truth all this time,” answered Dawn.

  Now there was a break in Dawn’s pattern. She answered the question in regards to the Order of Fire Elementhars in detail, unlike the others. This confused Ray slightly.

  “Answer _ why are you doing of this to this question but not the others?” he asked curiously.

  “That mission was before my time. As I hadn’t partaken in it, I wasn’t sworn to secrecy over it. And it was that mission, or the dispute over the actual results of that mission, which caused my uncle to be sacked from the ranks of the ‘Chosen of the Clan’ by our clanmaster. My uncle has lived in shame ever since. Also, I sympathise with your loss. We of the Shadow Deathmerchant Clan understand very well the meaning of loss. So I answered this question to give you a sense of closure,” explained Dawn.

  “Assassinate _ does your clan do of this only for money?” asked Ray.

  “Mainly, but not exclusively. We sometimes assassinate for our own survival and for our own political agendas as well. Like you, we too seek justice,” answered Dawn.

  Anger was brewing inside Ray. Justice!? What would an assassin know about the meaning of this word!? But Ray kept his composure. He was getting some answers. And some answers were better than no answers. Without saying a single word, Ray turned and walked out of the infirmary. The three healers rushed in, making sure to show him their disgruntled expressions as they brushed past him.

  Minvian Serene Genox met up with Ray as he walked away from the infirmary.