by Jacob Cooper
Remembering the words his father had spoken at many public events, he said, “I am your Lord and therefore your servant. I will be first to lift your weary heads and first to stand in front of you when nightfall casts her long shadow! I am Hedron Kerr!”
Hedron was roaring. His words carried throughout the arena with a depth that Aiden had never experienced. They were captivating, not allowing any to turn away for even a moment. As he listened, he saw the boy become his father. The mantle of authority that had been in the Kerr bloodlines before they were called Kerrs descended upon him as the words exploded from him with undeniable power. Emotion swelled inside Aiden and his jaw became tight. Tears stung his eyes and the heat of pride burned deep within him.
“Enemies encircle us from all sides, my brothers and sisters!” Hedron bellowed. He was shaking. “They think us defeated, cowering. They think to have our lands and put our race to an end! I swear to you, by all the Ancients, while I yet have air in my lungs and strength in my limbs, this will never happen! Join with me now. Cast out the fear and find the strength; the strength to stand against tyranny, genocide, treachery, and all things of the Ancient Dark!”
He thrust his fist heavenward and his voice grew thunderous as he recited the Arlethian Warrior’s Creed:
“I am a sturdy bough rooted deep in fertile soil! I am iron and steel, molded from the fires of adversity! I am life to those behind me, death to those in front! I am Arlethia, and she is me! I am her silent shield, her impenetrable armor, her terrible sword! She is my strength and my all! Those who stand against her stand against me, and shall swiftly fall!”
All of Calyn shook in the wake of Hedron’s words. The shouts of ascent among the people sounded like a storm brewing from the center of the world. Aiden did not restrain the tears that streamed down his face and joined in the throng of shouts of “Arlethia!” and “Lord Kerr!” and “Hedron!”
I thought this was going to be an utter failure, Aiden admitted to himself. Ancients forgive me, I should have beaten him sooner and more often.
Any euphoria that would have accompanied such a rising of power by public acclamation was utterly squelched by the threat bearing down on them from all sides.
“These men behind me,” Lord Hedron Kerr spoke when the crowd had quieted enough, “normal men—a fishing merchant, a blacksmith and—” he turned to Glimon and asked, “What was it you do?”
“As little as possible, my young Lord,” Glimon answered. “I just play with the grandchildren. Or, that is, I used to until now.”
“And a grandfather—normal people that were brave enough to stand and do what is necessary. You are to be commended and have my deepest thanks.”
Hedron shook each one of their hands firmly and this time, they did accept the dismissal and left the meager stage to join their own groups. Seeing the small group of soldiers from the corner of his eye, he noticed they were standing a little taller but the hardened look of a warrior still eluded them. He knew they were broken inside. His feet met the ground and he approached the group. He felt Aiden come up behind him.
“Name?” he asked the first one he came to. The man was holding his left arm and had a wound above his left eye that would leave a nasty scar since it had not been properly tended to by a healer. He did not immediately answer.
“Name!” Lord Kerr demanded.
“Ulin,” he said.
Aiden stepped forward. “I do believe your Lord asked you a question, soldier! Is that the proper delivery of your answer?”
“No, my Lord!” the soldier exclaimed, regaining his military discipline after being chastised in an all-too-familiar tone. “I mean, no, my Lord,” turning to Hedron. The man was confused whom to address now and his frustration with himself showed. He collected himself and addressed Lord Kerr properly. “I am Ulin, My Lord.”
“Ulin, what is it? What has shaken you so? This is more than the look of defeat,” Hedron said.
“Our forces broke, my Lord. There was a Dark Influence in the forest. And monsters. They attacked the Senthary and us just the same. But they stopped fighting suddenly. They just stopped and stood there for several minutes and then retreated. We were too stunned to do anything. The officers fell one right after the other. And then after the stone came—I mean, have you seen it?”
“We have seen it,” Aiden said.
“Then you know. You know the enemy has some Influence beyond what we can fight against.” The soldiers all had the same doomed look on their countenances.
“Where are the others?” Hedron demanded.
“Who?” Ulin asked.
“Who, my Lord!” Aiden snapped.
“The other soldiers. There are barely a score of you here.”
Ulin looked around at the men with him. “I don’t know if there are any more, my Lord. We escaped and found one another. But, no others have come. The slaughter in the confusion after the trees turned was terrible. If there are others, they are probably in hiding. Likely the wisest thing.”
At this, Hedron came within an inch of the Ulin’s face. “Ulin, you and these men are going to secure that hopelessness you feel somewhere deep inside you. Lock it away and lose the key. If you are all that is left of our armed forces then I will need you. They will need you,” he said, gesturing to the crowd.
“But my Lord, we cannot fight against such a power—”
“Do you hear the people around you? Do you hear their cheers and shouts of bravery? Those are civilians! Unless you can bury that coward streak running through you this instant, I will have you executed where you stand!” Hedron roared. Aiden drew his steel and the man paled.
As Lord Hedron Kerr was teaching Ulin and the other soldiers how to be men again, Glimon approached with a message in his hand.
“Lord Kerr!” he called, waving a folded piece of parchment. “Lord Kerr!”
Alabeth placed herself between the older man and barked savage warnings.
“Easy girl,” Hedron said. “Glimon is all right. I think he has a larger pair than them, wouldn’t you say?” He gestured to the ragged band of soldiers.
“Lord Kerr, a message has come from an emissary of the Southern Province,” Glimon said.
Hedron tensed. “An emissary? Where is he?”
“Outside the arena. He appears to be alone but scouts have said the Southern Province’s forces are half a day’s march outside the city. They will be here before nightfall.”
“What does the message say?” Hedron asked.
“Begging your pardon, my Lord, but I didn’t dare read it. It was addressed to Lord Therrium.” The man looked abashed. “I thought it best if—”
Hedron took the message. “That’s fine Glimon.” He opened it and looked at Aiden, who nodded.
“Might as well get the bad news done with,” he said.
Lord Kerr agreed and read. His tension turned to awe and he dropped the parchment.
“Where is the emissary? Show me!” he demanded.
Glimon pointed to an archway that led out of the arena about three hundred paces away. Hedron ran through the crowds, only focused on the exit. When he emerged outside the arena, he looked around and saw a figure on horseback draped in a large hooded tunic in the bright gold, red and orange colors of the Southern Province. The emissary caught site of Hedron and dismounted, slowly approaching Hedron. The young lord saw a lock of blonde hair escape from under the hood. Hedron’s breath caught. Slowly, the emissary removed the hood. Kathryn Hoyt’s face was the most beautiful sight Hedron Kerr had ever beheld. Her smile was radiant beyond the sun at noon on any day of the High Season.
He ran to her. Kathryn almost disappeared as he wrapped her in his arms. He kissed her, tenderly at first, then hungrily. After an all-too-brief eternity, he pulled his head back and looked at the girl he loved. Joy, like none he had felt in his life, flooded inside Hedron and poured out from him as he stared into Kathryn’s emerald green eyes. He could get lost in those eyes.
“Is it true?” he asked in a shaky
voice.
She nodded. “My father will be here before nightfall with thirty thousand of our own men and ten thousand Arlethian warriors. We will not let you stand alone.”
Though he knew it was not completely warranted, it was relief that made his voice break when he spoke next. “I don’t understand. How is this possible?”
“Can’t a lady keep her secrets?”
Hedron kissed her again.
It was just before the sun buried itself beneath the western horizon that Lord Hoyt arrived at the head of his forces, plus ten thousand Arlethian soldiers. The sight kindled hope in the people that lined the streets at the southern entrance of Calyn. Hedron did feel embers of hope but was also nervous at finally having to meet Kathryn’s father, especially under the circumstances now facing them. How could one man make him feel more insecure than an almost certain annihilation of his people? He prayed he would not trip over his own tongue as he tried to speak.
Kathryn stood next to him, holding his hand, Aiden on his other side, with Ehliss next to him. Merrick also stood close with a mighty hammer. The huge blacksmith had somewhat taken to the young lord it seemed, appointing himself as his bodyguard of sorts. Aiden did not take offense. In truth, he seemed somewhat relieved to share the job with what approached.
Lord Hoyt rode his mount up to where they waited. Two others dismounted with him and approached Hedron until they were an arm’s length away. Kathryn squeezed Hedron’s hand a little tighter. Hoyt gazed at him for several seconds before looking away in thought. Hedron swallowed hard.
“Father—” Kathryn began, but Hoyt held up his hand to quiet her.
Looking back at Hedron, he took a deep breath and let it out.
“Lord Kerr, I presume,” he said and extended his hand. Hedron accepted the gesture with a firm grip. Suddenly, Calder Hoyt pulled Hedron’s arm, yanking him forward, and wrapped his other arm around Hedron’s back. “And,” he whispered in his ear, “soon to be a son of mine, if my daughter speaks truth.”
Hedron blushed. “Yes, My Lord, if we survive. And, if you consent.”
Lord Hoyt pulled back but kept Hedron’s hand in his grip.
“Well, you sort of went about that backward, didn’t you?” Hoyt asked.
Hedron did not know what to say and he knew it showed on his face. Lord Hoyt laughed. Slamming his hand down on Hedron’s shoulder in a playful manner, he said, “Any man that can tame my daughter is a better man than I! If we survive this, Lord Kerr, we shall have a celebration of your union such as the Realm has never seen.”
Again, Hedron blushed. “I think it might be the other way around,” he said. “Kathryn is no doubt the one who tamed me.”
Hedron heard Aiden grumble something under his breath that sounded a little like, “I might be sick.” He smiled. Hoyt again laughed.
“Your forces appear unweathered, other than from the march here,” Hedron said. He looked to see the Arlethian soldiers—the remnants of his army—and saw there had not endured a battle either. “Where are the other forces? Men of the East and North Provinces?”
“There were twenty thousand, all men of the East. We took them through surprise and strategy, my young Lord,” Hoyt said. “I disarmed them and sent a contingent of the your Arlethian soldiers and marched them several leagues into the Schadar blindfolded, beyond the sight of any recognizeable landmark. Eventually, the Arlethian contingent silently left them mid-march and caught up with us. I don’t know how long they marched before they knew they were alone, but they will not be a factor for the coming conflict.”
“You neutralized a thousand score men without spilling a drop of blood?” Aiden asked.
“I fear that luck will not hold,” Hoyt said. His countenance turned grave. “The middle and northern fronts…how did they fare?”
Hedron looked down and Aiden slowly shook his head.
“Come, Lord Hoyt,” Hedron said. “We have much to prepare for and little time.”
FIFTY
Reign
Day 5 of 2nd Dimming 412 A.U.
THE WHIRLPOOL SHAPED CLOUDS of the Dimming Season spun through the vault of heaven, illuminated by the blue silver light of first moon and occasional lightning blasts. The centers would become more hollow as the Low Season approached and would eventually only leave the perimeter of the beautiful empyreal nebulae.
“I remember a night such as this,” Reign said. It was an odd thing for her to long for the night she lost her father but it would have been another few moments with him in life. Crimson Snow walked on her left side, not at her heel as a pet but next to her as one of her trusted friends.
Knowing her mind, Thannuel offered, I know, Reign. I wish for that as well. I wish for many things that did not come to pass.
They stood in a part of the former Western Province that Reign had never visited. The northwest forest ran right up against the seashore of the west coast of the continent. Great yellow-wooded trees grew in the shallow seawater with a portion of their knotted and twisted trunks remaining under water even in low tide. Those parts were crusted with inanimate sea life of all create and also served as spawning grounds for many fish. Farther inland in this forest were found all manner of vegetation and trees, the thickest Reign had perhaps ever seen. Parts were undoubtedly more jungle than forest. Again, she had memories of this place that she knew were not natively hers.
“The Tavaniah has long been our home,” Jayden said. “The Gyldenal have resided here ever since the Turning Away. Protected by the Lumenatis as its guardians and preservers of knowledge.”
Reign was mystified by the feelings she experienced in this place. “I’ve always heard the stories—people say this place is haunted.”
“I’m not sure that’s quite accurate,” Jayden objected. “But there are some peculiar characteristics, yes.”
It’s why she fits in so well here, Thannuel said. Reign smiled but withheld her laugh.
“Like what?” she asked.
“I’m sure you’ll see soon enough if you are still,” the centuries-old Hardacheon wolf shepherd said. “This is the place where the Living Light was hidden by our ancestors. More specifically, yours. While I am part of the Gyldenal, and one of the oldest living members, it is your kind, Reign—Arlethians—that are the direct descendants of the Ancients. Or, at least the portion that did not follow after the Dark Mother.”
“This place? The Lumenatis is here?”
“Do not misunderstand, the Living Light is not an object. It is the source of Influences that promote life and knowledge. Våleira and its lands were created from the Lumenati Light that fills the universe. A spark of that Light resides in all living things. The Dark Mother seeks to devoid the world of the Lumenatis’ Influence and bring darkness and death through her Song of Night.”
“Song of Night?” Reign asked.
Those who follow her can hear it. Tempting them. Binding them. It is said to be a disharmonious melody that is beautiful and impossible to live without once heard.
“Why?” Reign asked. “What does she gain by this?”
“Oh yes, unlike the Lumenatis, the Dark Mother is truly a person, one who is Dark incarnate. The Ancient Dark itself is like the Lumenatis, a source of chaotic and life-depriving Influences. But Noxmyra, the Dark Mother, sought the dark to an extent that it engulfed and ensnared her forever.”
“But what does it have to gain by bringing decay and destruction?”
No, Reign, it is not a question of gain or motive. That isn’t how the eternal forces operate. It seeks this because it is its nature. Nothing more. She repeated her father’s words as they sounded in her mind for Jayden’s benefit.
“Thannuel is correct. He has become wiser over the past many years apart from his body.”
“Jayden, what of those who did turn away? The Ancients I mean. What became of them?”
“You might find an answer in the actual name of this land. Before the lands cycled, before there were Arlethians or Hardacheons or Senthary or Borathein or any
of the myriad races that once filled Våleira. This continent was known by a different name entirely.”
Reign took in a sharp breath as the name came to her from her father’s memories.
“Helsya,” she said.
Jayden nodded.
“But that means that…that the Helsyans are—”
“All people descended from the Ancients, my dear. This should be no surprise; even the Changrual have this right. Those who fervently followed Noxmyra in the Turning Away were granted powers from Dark Influences that made them stronger than nature ever intended. The Ancient Dark aspired to have its followers spread the work of chaos and entropy across the world unabated. None would be able to stand against them in their unnatural state.”
But the Living Light cursed them as a balance, limiting their powers and changing their appearance, Thannuel added.
“The scars,” Reign realized. “They are glyphs of the Ancient’s language.”
Jayden nodded. “Yes. They tell the story of their apostasy from the Living Light and embracing of the Dark. But it’s more than this. Their enhanced abilities and strength are only present when they are Charged, or given a Dahlrak, as it is called in the ancient tongue. Only he who holds a particular gem, called the Urlenthi, can levy a Charge to a Helsyan. Another one of the Light’s checks upon them, disallowing them to run free through the world as if Charged. Chase-givers are immovably loyal to the holder of the Urlenthi. Orlack was the first to hold this power over the cursed race, a Hardacheon who led the invasion into this land from the north, long before the Glaciers of Gonfrey were present, when the lands in the far north first started to show signs of decay.”
Their fealty to the Urlenthi is not as unbreakable as Jayden says, Thannuel corrected. Jayden rolled her eyes with impatience.
“I’m not going to debate this again, Thannuel,” Jayden muttered. “We don’t have time for every theory on the subject.”