The Key of Creation: Book 03 - The Temple of Kian

by M. D. Bushnell

  Adrias screamed, and Aldrick whirled to see Brodan standing over the prone body of his wife. Without thought, Aldrick viciously cut down the guard in front of him, and rushed to her aid. He was blind to anything but Jelénna, and he quickly killed two surprised rebel guards who stood in his way.

  Brodan stood staring blankly as Aldrick arrived at her side and knelt. Her chest was soaked in blood and her eyes stared ahead, the light gone from within. Aldrick fell over her and wailed in despair as Adrias dropped to his knees across from him, sobbing hysterically.

  Brodan lowered his arm, holding his sword loosely as dark crimson dripped down the blade to collect in a small pool on the cold, stone floor. The cacophony of battle continued to rage all around them, swirling and clashing as if they stood in the eye of a raging storm.

  Tears streaming down his face, Aldrick looked up at the former regent. Anger and hate filled his eyes. “You did this. You killed my Jelénna!”

  Brodan shook his head, suddenly becoming aware of Aldrick’s presence. “No, I…”

  “You monster!” Aldrick raged. “You’ve killed my only love!”

  “This is your fault!” Brodan stammered. “This never would have happened if you hadn’t betrayed me!”

  Aldrick snatched his swords and immediately attacked in a fury. Brodan raised his blood-soaked sword and blocked the initial foray, calling for his guards. Two rebels jumped in to assist the former regent.

  Separated from his companions, Aldrick suddenly found himself fighting three men instead of one. Blinded by rage, he fought wildly out of fury and loss; missing opportunities he would otherwise have been able to take advantage of. In a frenzy and outnumbered, he soon found himself losing ground.

  After a number of rapid exchanges, Aldrick finally connected a solid blow into the chest of one of the rebels. The man fell back, yanking the sword buried in his chest out of Aldrick’s sweaty hand. Left with a single sword he attacked desperately, but after blocking a vicious blow by the remaining guard, Brodan struck a solid hit, disarming him.

  With a vicious growl, Aldrick jumped on the rebel guard before he could recover. After knocking his sword aside, Aldrick twisted the man’s head violently, breaking his neck with a sickening snap.

  Both men tumbled to the floor, and Aldrick rolled only to find himself face to face with the tip of a sword. Brodan grinned. “Goodbye, Aldrick.”

  His eyes bulged wildly, as Brodan raised his sword above his head to strike him down. Aldrick closed his eyes, and prepared to join his wife in the afterlife. He imagined the two of them living happily in Khodara, in the wonderful room provided to him by Merrek. Death would be a welcome release from the pains and burdens of this world.

  But then he saw a vision of his son, orphaned and in despair, living a miserable life. He opened his eyes to see the bloody blade begin to descend, and then Garrick appeared, blocking the sword before it could strike him.

  The king thrust the blade back and swung again, forcing the former regent backward while Aldrick recovered. Brodan grinned widely, screaming for more guards while desperately defending himself against Garrick’s skilled attacks.

  Dathan and Aelianna managed to cut down the guards holding Tiberius and freed him. Warren helped him over to one side of the room, while the others gave them cover.

  Brodan continually screamed for more guards as he danced about, trying to stay clear of Garrick and his large two-handed sword. Sweat streamed down his face as the former regent darted about looking for an escape. Aldrick retrieved one of his swords, and immediately raised it to defend himself against one of the remaining rebels.

  The front doors banged open and a swarm of guards poured into the throne room. When Brodan saw them enter, he whirled to face Garrick. With a wide grin, he stamped his feet one last time and began to chant, “Kill the traitors! Kill the traitors!”

  Garrick glanced at the incoming guards with a scowl, but said nothing. With a grimace, he rushed Brodan, knocking aside his quickly raised blade. With a fast spin, he ducked a wild swing by the madman and plunged his sword into his midsection.

  Brodan dropped his sword with a clatter and clutched his middle. He stared at his fingers in shock, which were now coated in his own blood. “What…have you done…?”

  “Corrected an oversight in the justice system,” Garrick replied, unceremoniously yanking his blade out of the former regent. Brodan gasped, and fell heavily to his knees.

  Brodan stared with a confused expression at his crimson fingers for several weakening heartbeats, before his eyes rolled up and he slowly toppled over. Aldrick cut down the rebel guard attacking him, and turned to see the crumpled form of his former friend in a heap on the floor. He flashed Garrick a simple look of gratitude, but a small part of him felt robbed of the pleasure of avenging his fallen wife. Stricken, he turned back to Jelénna, no longer caring if he lived or died.

  Garrick turned and eyed the influx of reinforcements streaming in. The newly arrived rebel guards stared at the fallen body of their self-proclaimed king. There was a moment of confusion while the guards were sorting out what had happened, and Garrick stepped forward to take advantage.

  “Men, your king has returned!” Garrick announced in a magnanimous voice. “Stop this fighting.”

  Felinus pushed his way past the rebels and into the room. “You are no king of ours, traitor. You are an Illyrian spy. We know the truth!”

  “Pay no attention to this half-wit,” Garrick quipped. “The man you followed was a murderer and a traitor. I am your true king!”

  Felinus sputtered, and tried to think of a retort. Finally, he settled on, “Kill them all!”

  Facing at least two dozen armed men, Garrick sighed. “This ought to prove interesting. Aldrick, are you with me?”

  Aldrick glanced at him with a hopeless expression, but remained silent, kneeling next to Jelénna. Hoping that his silence was affirmation, Garrick raised his bloodstained sword just in time to parry the first attack.

  Aldrick remained near his dead wife in a daze, until the first rebel guard approached him. Then his survival instinct kicked in. His mind clouded with grief, Aldrick was nearly struck twice by wild swings, and he only barely managed to block a third. One of the rebels tripped into him, and they went down hard in a tangle of armor and weapons.

  Darkness reigned for a time. Aldrick could not have said how long it was before he awoke to find himself lying on the cold stone floor. Lifting his head groggily, he found everyone in the room laid out on the floor as well.

  There was a groan next to him, as Garrick propped himself up on his elbows and looked around. Their remaining comrades began to stir as well, and Aelianna sat up and rubbed her eyes. None of the rebel guards moved, however.

  The only person in the room seemingly unperturbed was Jarvus, who stood nonchalantly observing the carnage from the safety of the entrance to the corpse-filled throne room.

  “What happened?” Aldrick croaked, still in a daze.

  Garrick sat up, rubbing his head and surveying the bodies scattered about the room. “Looks like we won.”

  “How?”

  “I’m not sure. I managed to take down a couple, before I was hit over the head from behind. Looks like maybe Aelianna and Dathan finished the job.”

  The doorway now stood empty, and Jarvus was nowhere to be seen. Aelianna began to check the bodies of the rebel guards, soon announcing that they all appeared to be dead. She and the others told stories similar to Garrick, claiming they had blacked out after being struck from behind. No one could fully explain the resounding victory, other than that they had been fighting for their lives, but it did not matter to Aldrick. The love of his life was dead, and nothing else mattered. Perhaps nothing ever would again.

  He knelt down beside her lifeless body and put his arm around his son. The boy had ceased bawling; no more tears streamed down his face. Adrias shook off his comforting embrace and stood, giving his father an accusatory look. He shouted, “This is your fault!” before darting ou
t of the room.

  Tiberius crossed the room and knelt next to his son. “I am so sorry, Aldrick.”

  Aldrick shook his head and moaned. “I should have been here.”

  Tiberius looked at Aldrick and put a comforting hand on his shoulder. “This is not your fault. Your son may be hurting now, but he’s young and will recover.” Aldrick nodded, but said nothing.

  Tiberius turned to Garrick. “I give you back your kingdom, such as it is.”

  Garrick nodded. “We have much to discuss. I will need your help, and those who are still loyal, to clean up this mess.”

  Chapter 22

  Aldrick barely listened as a lone horn sounded a long melancholy note, its forlorn cry mirroring his sorrow. Dark grey clouds had rolled in during the preparations for Jelénna’s funeral, and a light rain now fell at the gravesite as if the very heavens wept for the premature passing of his angel.

  Garrick had arranged a state funeral to be remembered, the largest since the passing of the former monarch, King Hermanus. Aldrick, however, noticed none of it. He watched silently as they lowered the mahogany casket into the ground. He thought the rain streaming down the dark polished wood looked like tears.

  Adrias stood solemnly next to Tiberius, avoiding his father. Garrick and Warren flanked them, and Aelianna and Dathan stood behind, giving the family space to mourn. Jelénna’s parents had traveled from Ubarra, and stood by her grave, crying. Everyone was garbed in black, their heads down and their hearts heavy.

  Aldrick left the ceremony towards the end, and walked through the rain to another part of the cemetery. He passed several extravagant headstones, until arriving at one that was smaller, but delicately set in the ground. He had avoided visiting this particular grave for many long Summers.

  The simple, yet elegant tombstone was carved, ‘Here rests Sharria, wife of Tiberius alongside her unborn son. She was a loving wife and mother, and will be greatly missed.’

  Aldrick stood at her grave for a few moments, tears rolling down his cheeks. It was time he accepted the loss of his beloved mother, and her untimely death. A death caused by despicable magic. He could no longer deny the return of magic, as much as he had tried to.

  “I am so sorry mother…so very sorry.”

  With a sniff, he wiped the tears from his eyes and made his way back to the others.

  As the ceremony ended, the large somber crowd began to make their way home, speaking in hushed tones. Aldrick trailed along woodenly behind his family. He was jarred from his reverie when he spotted the familiar face of a kindly old man in the crowd, who smiled and nodded. Aldrick started to call out, but when he blinked, the old man was gone.

  Tiberius put his arm around his son. “What was that?”

  “I thought I saw Merrek,” Aldrick said, scanning the crowd.

  “Merrek?”

  Aldrick wiped rain and tears from his eyes. “It may have been my imagination.”

  Garrick and Warren caught up to them before they left the cemetery. The king said, “I can’t say enough how sorry I am, my friend.” Aldrick nodded but said nothing, and Garrick continued. “Is there anything I can do?”

  Aldrick shook his head. “No. I’m taking Adrias and going home.”

  Garrick nodded. “I understand. You are welcome here anytime, of course.” Glancing around, he lowered his voice. “I will keep our ‘discovery’ under lock and key. I promise you that.”

  Aldrick nodded, but said nothing. He found it difficult to care about the Tritaph, or anything else for that matter. The light drizzle continued as Aldrick lowered his hood and slowly walked out of the cemetery.

  Epilogue

  Bright blue fire illuminated the long table, although many of the hooded faces of the men seated around it remained obscured by shadow. The light reflected off strange runes carved into the wood surface of the table, but no one paid them any heed. Whispered conversations consisted primarily of two subjects: the return of the new king to Akkadia, and his defensive preparations for the rumored invasion from Illyria. A man in a hood entered through the sole door of the small, dark room and sat at the head of the table.

  A bearded man with auburn hair stood at the opposite end of the table and said without preamble, “By now we all know the rumor of impending invasion by the growing force camped at our northern border, and of King Garrick’s return. Our esteemed leader has called this meeting to speak of new information he has acquired.”

  The new arrival stood and pulled back his hood, revealing a thin, bespectacled man. “Something which was foretold has come to pass, which changes our defensive strategy against the Illyrian invasion.”

  “What has happened Jarvus?” The bearded man interjected.

  Jarvus rolled his eyes at the interruption. “I’m getting to that, Mazhar. I knew from Garrick’s friend Warren, that King Zabalan of Illyria had been replaced by a doppelgänger, but I have learned that this powerful sorcerer calls himself Sargon.”

  Mazhar coughed. “The Sargon? How is that possible?”

  “I cannot imagine what sorcery could resurrect that monster after five hundred Summers,” Jarvus replied. “Although he may simply be a usurper manipulating people through fear of the name. More importantly, a piece of the Tritaph has been recovered.”

  Gasps echoed from around the table, and everyone began to ask questions at once. Jarvus held his hands out and called for silence. “Obviously I cannot answer everyone at once. For now, all I know is that the chosen keeper is Aldrick, son of Tiberius. Yet with his wife dead, and his lack of knowledge of the true power of the artifact, he is in no shape to fight this war.”

  Mazhar shifted at the end of the table. “What will we do?”

  “Both the king, and Asturia will need help defending against this Sargon’s invasion. It is time for the League of Mages to come out of hiding.”

  To be continued…

  Glossary

  Adrias, son of Aldrick: (Ay-dree-us) Son of Aldrick and Jelénna. At the start of the Tournament of the King, he is ten Summers old.

  Aej’dehus: (Aye-day-hoos) Kemettan word for a great serpent.

  Ae’lax Andretta: (Ay-lax An-dret-tah) Capital City of Kemett

  Ae’roya Jost: (Ah-roy-ah-joste) Kemettan word for dream journey

  Akkadia: (Ah-kay-dee-ah) The capital city of the country of Asturia and home to Brodan, Tiberius and the Tournament of the King.

  Aldrick, son of Tiberius: (All-drik) Son of the noble Tiberius. He gave up the life of a noble to become an investigator in the lake town of Ubarra, where he lives with his wife Jelénna and his son Adrias.

  All Father: Creator of all existence.

  Anu: (Ah-new) First child of the All Father, who embodies the sky above and the spirit within.

  Ar’Nas: (are-nass) A card game.

  Asturia: (Ass-tour-ee-ah) The home country of Aldrick, Tiberius and Brodan, which lies to the south of Illyria. Split in twain by the mighty Tianna River, its capital city is Akkadia.

  Asturian Mint: A painkiller, usually administered in the form of a tea.

  Bat’lagh: Kemettan word for mud pit.

  Berach: (Bear-ack) The head cook in the palace of Akkadia.

  Book of Anunnabi: (Ah-new-nah-bee) Book telling the creation story of the All Father.

  Bor’asin: (Bore-ah-sin) Kemettan word for an animal resembling a burro or donkey.

  Brandt, son of Paulinus: A pompous noble in Akkadia that Aldrick meets at the Tournament parade.

  Brodan, son of Hermanus: (Bro-den) Son of the late King Hermanus. Currently, he acts as regent of the country of Asturia, residing in the palace in its capital city of Akkadia. He is a childhood friend of Aldrick.

  Cailyn: (Kay-linn) Warren’s sister.

  Calddean Sea: (Call-dee-ann) Large body of water to the west of Asturia and Illyria.

  Celynn, son of Torben: (Sell-lin) Finalist in the Tournament of the King, with his second Ahoth, son of Mogann.

  Clavis: (Clay-viss) Official name for the artifact found by Aldrick.


  Crown Run: The name of the final phase of the Tournament of the King, wherein the five finalists are given a riddle that points to the hidden location of the crown of Asturia. The first to return with the crown is chosen as the new king.

  Dathan, son of Garath: (Day-than) Gate guard in the city of Kishen, and a friend to Warren.