Circle of Reign

by Jacob Cooper

  The anxiety of his task was overwhelming until he realized it wasn’t actually anxiety he felt. It was as Tyjil had said, seeds of ironic eagerness. The feeling was still revolting to him but it had become addicting in some ways and he found himself reaching for it a little more often. Though he mostly fought it, tried to suffocate it, to expel it, the budding excitement was growing, thickening with every breath he took.

  Shane was indeed becoming more than he once was.

  NINE

  General Roan

  Day 7 of 3rd Rising 407 A.U.

  “WHY DID YOU ABANDON LADY KERR?” General Roan asked, spite in his voice. “She took you in and you leave her now, boy? When her family needs you most?”

  “I did no such thing!” Master Aiden snapped, coming to within an inch of Roan’s face. His shoulder length hair was bound behind his head save for a few disobedient strands that framed his angered face.

  “You’re here, aren’t you?” Roan continued, not backing down. “At Hold Therrium? You’re not at her side! Danger could still be present for her. There could still be something at play, some conspiracy!”

  Aiden sneered. “There’s a better chance of danger being present here, for Lord Therrium, if what you say is true! If Lord Kerr was a target then so might be Lord Therrium. Don’t tell me how to do my duty, Antious!”

  “Where were you?” Roan screamed. “Where were you when he faced his foe! You were the master of the hold—”

  “I was in the hold with Lady Kerr, as I was commanded to be! Where were you, General? He was your best friend and you were leagues away!”

  “I was doing my duty!”

  “As was I!”

  The corridor of Hold Therrium they stood in echoed with their shouts. Torchlight flickered as a draft came through the hold from the northeast, teasing the drapes and banners that contained House Therrium’s ensign thereon.

  “All right!” Aiden said. “It’s my fault! Is that what you want to hear? I should have disobeyed Lord Kerr’s orders! I should have known some beast was in the forest, waiting to take him and Reign from me! From us! Is that it? Is that what you came to hear? Are you satisfied now, bastard?”

  General Roan punched Aiden in the abdomen, which was immediately followed by a headbutt to Roan’s face. Roan brought his hand to his lip and it came away bloody. He smiled.

  “Is that all?” Roan asked. “You were a castaway when we found you on Captain Norvuld’s ship and seems you’re still trying to hide. No doubt that’s why you left Lady Kerr alone, castaway!”

  Punches, kicks, and throws followed as the two wood-dwellers fought. Other hold guards surrounded them, being drawn by the commotion.

  “Stay back,” Aiden commanded as he took his sword from his belt and handed it to one of them. Roan did the same. An uppercut found Aiden’s jaw, but it was only a glancing blow and he responded in kind, his knee finding Antious’ side. The general grunted and countered by accepting the momentum created from the blow and swept Aiden’s legs from under him. He fell upon the master of the hold guard, punching his face repeatedly. Aiden was not deterred long as he wrapped his legs around Antious’ hip, locking them, and thrusted the general forward, bringing him off balance. Antious was forced to reach out his arms to catch himself, but Aiden quickly grabbed one of his arms while simultaneously spinning his hips and bringing a leg up and over Antious’ head. He squeezed hard, cutting off Antious’ air supply while pulling on his arm. He could break it if he wanted to.

  “Are you done?” Aiden called out. “You are done!”

  In answer, General Roan stopped fighting the grasp Aiden had on his arm and reversed his grip, reinforcing Aiden’s grip on him. It was an odd move and the hold guard, obviously confused by the action, loosened his grip slightly, but enough. Antious rotated his hand free and grabbed Aiden’s tunic and the skin underneath, clamping down hard. With the last of his strength as he ran out of air, he picked Aiden up by his hold, a reverse arm curl, raising his whole body with one arm. Aiden grunted in pain and surprise as he was lifted off his back nearly half a foot and slammed down on the stone floor, then once again. Aiden loosed his leg clamp around Antious and both rolled away from each other.

  Aiden held his head while Antious struggled for breath. And then, they both began to laugh. Lying on the ground, cradling wounds and coughing, they laughed. The hold guards around them looked uneasy.

  “Off with ya,” Aiden said. “Back to your routes.”

  The hold guards returned the belts and swords to Antious and Aiden. While the men departed, General Roan said, “You know, I’m told General Korin used that move on the Orsarian admiral when they fought on Main Island.”

  “Kalisa’s father?” Aiden asked. “I never knew him.”

  Roan nodded. “I’m glad it went better for me than for the Orsarian leader. Korin ended him with it.”

  Eventually, the two crawled over and sat against a wall in the corridor, still aching and heavy with breath. Torchlight reflected in the few crimson drops on the stone floor.

  “Do you always act this way toward people who saved your life?” Aiden asked.

  “You didn’t save my life. Thannuel did.”

  “That’s not the way he told it. I was there, remember?”

  “We were all there,” Roan said. “The three of us.”

  “And now, it’s just us.”

  “I know it’s not your fault, Aiden. I just…can’t believe he’s gone. I don’t really blame you.”

  Aiden was quiet for a moment. “I can’t be certain I’m not to blame. You’re right…I should have been there. To tell you the truth, I’m here with Lord Therrium to try and make amends. I almost hope something else happens again so that I can partially redeem myself…or give my life in penance.”

  “You’re a moron, Aiden.”

  “Aye, and you’re a bastard.”

  “Did you know Lord Therrium used to be my history teacher?”

  Aiden looked at Antious, still holding the back of his head. “You’re joking.”

  “Nope,” Roan answered. “And he was extremely boring.”

  More laughter came, Aiden’s rising above the general’s. “I’m trying to picture you sitting in class with the Lord of the Western Province as your instructor. I just can’t!”

  “Of course you can’t! You never went to school, did you?”

  Aiden shrugged. “That’s not to say I didn’t receive an education. Not having a mother and your father dying when you’re only twelve teaches a boy a thing or two.”

  “You hit like a girl, by the way,” Antious said.

  “My father always said the same thing. A ‘ninny bastard,’ he’d call me.”

  They laughed again, softer this time. Antious did not wish to bring Aiden’s thoughts to his father.

  “What did you mean, beast in the forest?” Roan asked when the moment had passed.

  “I haven’t spoken of it. Antious, I’m not sure if my memories are accurate. They could be clouded by the surreality of that night. I’m not sure I trust them, not sure I can really tell you.”

  “Try,” Roan said. There was a pleading just beneath the surface, a need to understand what happened. Aiden must have sensed it.

  “It couldn’t have been human,” he began. “The way he moved, the storm in his footfall…his speed was greater than my own, even whilst carrying another person. I could not catch him.”

  “You sound as if you revere this enigma.”

  Aiden considered how to respond. “I suppose in a strange way you do revere what you fear.”

  “Who was being carried?” Roan asked. “Could it have been Reign?”

  Aiden shook his head. “If it had been, nothing would have stopped me from pursuing him.”

  “Are you certain it wasn’t her? Truly certain?”

  “Aye. The body was large, a man’s without doubt. And…” Aiden trailed off.

  “Yes?” Antious urged.

  “It was wrong. Broken and angled unnaturally, like a child
’s rag doll.”

  General Roan’s mind was taken back to when he had witnessed Thannuel fight the Thoulden-sha, the leader of the Marishee, on the third of the Runic Islands—sometimes called Pearl Island—while he was surrounded by Orsarian dark marauders on all sides, the same day Roan had died.

  “He was going to tell me something,” Roan said.

  “Who?”

  “Thannuel. Lord Kerr. He had sent me word by wing to come to his hold with my family, but he was killed two days before the date.”

  Aiden didn’t look intrigued. “Is that so odd?”

  Antious felt his lip. The blood had crusted and dried. “The message, Aiden…it was cryptic. Ominous, almost. I’m telling you it wasn’t like him. He knew something, I can feel it.”

  “What did he know?”

  “Haven’t you been listening? He was killed before I was to meet with him. I was hoping you knew something.”

  Aiden obviously didn’t by the look on his face. “He didn’t confide much in me, general. Have you spoken to Lady Kerr?”

  Roan nodded. “Just after the funeral. She knew nothing. I practically begged her to come and live with Kalisa and I…but she will not leave Hold Kerr.”

  “Do you think she’s still alive?” Aiden asked.

  “I don’t know. Maybe.” Roan said, but his words were without hope. “You were close?”

  “Aye, of course. I saw her everyday. Reign was so bright, so curious. Innocent.”

  “They never found her body. Why aren’t you still looking for her?”

  Aiden swallowed hard and looked away. “I do look for her, Antious. Almost everyday, for a few hours as my duties allow me.”

  They sat in silence for a time.

  “Lord Therrium has ordered the army to deploy back to our normal duty stations,” Roan said. “He doesn’t seem worried. I won’t likely see you again for some time.”

  “Thank the Ancients.” The two men both smiled wryly.

  “You did save my life,” Antious admitted. “Those many years ago. You brought the means, even if I still don’t understand it.”

  “Lord Kerr always told me it had something to do with the Living Light, but never said much more.”

  “There is no Living Light, Aiden.”

  “Lord Kerr said you didn’t believe in the Ancients,” Aiden said. “But deep down I think he thought you did. Maybe.”

  Antious was silent for a while. “Maybe.”

  Antious lied to himself. There was something, he knew, but couldn’t make it fit into something he could readily understand or apply. Worse, he could tell Aiden saw the conflict within him.

  “Are you saying you believe the Ancients will come back some day, as the Changrual say, and save us all from this dying world?” General Roan asked, incredulity on his face.

  Aiden shrugged. “I don’t know, Antious. But, I for sure do not believe anything those worthless, dense, sackcloth-wearing ignoramuses have to say.”

  “Bastards!”

  “Aye, bastards!”

  They laughed again together.

  TEN

  Moira

  Day 4 of 4th Rising 407 A.U.

  MOIRA KERR ROSE EARLY, just before dawn when the night was always darkest. The amber light of second moon receded completely about half an hour before dawn every morning, leaving Senthara completely engulfed in dark’s full embrace for those final moments of night. Rising at precisely this time was always typical for her, but even more so as the Lady Matron of Hold Kerr. She would be about the affairs of the hold and its lands, managing the labors of the day. In normal times, a herald servant would have seen to the management of the daily work, but these were not normal times.

  Once a Lord passed away or retired, a pension from the Realm’s treasury was typically granted in support of the family, even when lordship passed from father to son. No pension would be granted to a family whose husband and father had been a traitor. This left the family to fend for itself. With little money to hire new servants or even retain those currently employed, the hold was understaffed, leaving the income and resources that could have been garnished for their welfare largely untapped. Only the most loyal and dedicated servants remained, but even they were overwhelmed and the hold lay increasingly in a state of disrepair.

  The cycles had not only been unkind to House Kerr’s ancestral hold but also to Moira’s heart. Her bones ached almost every day with sorrow, regret, guilt. Each emotion had its own place in her heart that filled the emptiness left by the death of both her husband and daughter, but though the emptiness was filled it may as well have been a void. The sorrow that occupied a portion of her heart was pumped through her veins, immobilizing her to a state that the remaining servants in the hold believed to be shock. Regret invaded her with almost every breath she took, rooting itself firmly in her lungs as a tumor that stubbornly refused to be expelled, causing weakness and lethargy to sweep over her.

  The guilt, however, was the key to her continuance. The sorrow and regret sucked life from her on a daily basis, pulling her more and more to what would surely be a catatonic state if not for the guilt. It was energizing and compelled her to action, to do her duty as a mother and the lady of her hold. Yes, the guilt. The guilt of not keeping Reign closer to the hold; the guilt of blaming Thannuel for the same; the guilt of sending him out to find her, which, though a rational decision, tormented her nonetheless; and finally, the guilt of not being able to find her little Reign. It was likely the only element of who she was that pushed her, that kept her from sinking into an abyss and letting the light in her eyes completely go out. The light had faded, true, but it was definitely not extinguished.

  Every morning, before the sun would peek over the horizon, Lady Kerr spent as many moments as she could stand in Reign’s chambers. She sat quietly there this morning, on the edge of Reign’s bed, just as she had every morning for the past eight cycles. Come back to me. As she let her emotional guard down, Moira thought upon the dozens of times she had chased Reign around the hold in little games of cat and mouse. Fox and Squirrel, actually, Moira remembered. Reign had always claimed to be a squirrel running to hide her winter stash of acorns from the sneaky bad fox. Moira, of course, was the sneaky bad fox.

  “A fox doesn’t want acorns,” Moira tried to teach her daughter.

  “This one does!” Reign would say and giggle as she ran away, fully expecting Moira to chase her. The giggling was contagious and the hold servants would join in.

  “Over here!” they would call. “We’ll hide you from your mother!”

  “She’s not my mother! She’s the sneaky bad fox!”

  When Moira would eventually catch her, Reign would laugh so joyfully. This seemed to invite tickling, so Moira would oblige her and the laughter would grow even louder.

  Not even echoes of that joyful sound remained now. Moira had checked, placing her ear to the stonewalls of the hold, praying that they had somehow absorbed and maintained the remnants of her daughter’s sweet voice. Ancient Heavens, have I forgotten what her laugh sounds like? The quiet only intensified her longing. How cruel silence can be. Recently, Reign had wanted to grow up so fast. She would be ten now, if—No, she is ten now, Moira scolded herself for thinking of Reign in the past tense.

  The Changrual had counseled her in her grief to look inward and discover her new purpose, what they called her “highest calling”. She had rebuffed them and their counsel, not thinking she had the luxury of such philosophical ponderings. Slowly, however, the question rooted itself within her. What is my highest calling now? She could not help but let her mind run freely on the subject during solitary moments such as now.

  Nothing had been taken from her daughter’s room or disturbed in any way. Even the pile of disheveled clothing that Reign refused to properly put away, despite Moira’s constant insistence, seemed sacred now. She took one of Reign’s pillows and hugged it to her chest tightly. They had long ago lost her daughter’s scent, but she inhaled deeply just the same, hoping for any
last remaining aroma of her young Reign. Moira’s tears came and flowed down her pale cheeks, wetting the pillow. It was stained with her tears from the many visits.

  “I miss you,” she whispered in a shuddered exhale. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” She remained for a few moments longer and prayed that the Ancient Heavens would watch over her lost daughter—dead or alive. After she tenderly replaced the pillow to its original position, she rose and left Reign’s chambers.

  Moira had already taken over many of the duties that a herald servant and hold master would have discharged, but a herald servant or hold master could not be retained. Not only was the family’s income meager, having to live from the resources provided by the land more and more, the stigma of being in the employ of a house named for treason was enough to drive away all but the most loyal to House Kerr—or the most desperate. Were it not for the secret support of Thannuel’s cousin, Banner, who had been assigned Lordship after Thannuel’s death, the hold would have been abandoned long ago. Moira had some family still—a sister, Molina, who was a caretaker for their father—but she could not burden them with her needs. In reality, however, she felt it would be too dangerous for anyone to take her and her son in. Moira did not know the genesis of this thought—why should her family be in danger for supporting her? It seemed a ridiculous notion, but she couldn’t shake the warning. For Hedron’s sake, she would not let the hold fall into ruin.

  She thought of General Roan and Kalisa briefly. She had never met their children but they would be nearly seven now. Roan had sought her out shortly after the funeral, seeking insight into a message he received supposedly from Thannuel just before he died, but Moira had known nothing of it. The handwriting had indeed been her husband’s but the message’s meaning was cryptic. It could have been nothing but the nostalgic desires of Thannuel to see his closest friend; but, she agreed with Roan that the letter may have hinted at something more. What, however, they may never know. She tried not to focus on it.

  Hedron would need to be sent into Calyn to secure provisions for their trip. He was ten years of age now, crossing over from the age of innocence, old enough to deal with the realities his family faced. Perhaps he only had the maturity because he needed to. Moira lamented that so much was now and would yet be required of him at such a young age. They would leave within a span for Iskele to once again plead their case before the High Duke. The journey there would take three days to complete, a day or two before Duke Wellyn and his court, and yet another three days for the return trip. How will the hold fare for almost a span in my absence? Lady Moira feared. Will there be anyone left when I return? She longed for the presence of Master Aiden, for his assistance in these times. But she would not request him to come and she doubted he would ever visit.