Circle of Reign

by Jacob Cooper

  Hedron stood up and backed a few paces off to compose himself.

  “What will happen to them all?” Kathryn asked.

  Hedron turned to her and she looked upon the man she loved with blurry vision.

  “I will resurrect the Kerr Hold and it will be larger than it ever was. My mother always wanted more children and it broke her heart when she could not have more. I remember her happiest when she heard our laughter through the hold.” He stopped and swallowed. “There will be many who have family that can care for them. Aunts, uncles, grandparents. But there will still be scores left that have no one. I was hoping… I was hoping that…that we might consider—”

  Kathryn’s heart beat faster as she realized what Hedron was suggesting. Before Hedron could finish, she threw her arms around him and said, “Of course. We will see to them. All of them. One way or another.”

  Kathryn stepped into the midst of the children and went from child to child, asking their names and where they were from.

  “And also,” she said, while dealing with her own immense grief, “tell me something fun about yourselves.”

  Aiden sat alone, pondering all that had happened. Thannuel’s sword lay on his lap, supporting his arms as they propped up his head.

  The boy’s sword now, he knew. He felt so much guilt still for what had befallen the House of Kerr, Thannuel’s death foremost among them. Perhaps one day, after I have sacrificed enough, you can forgive me.

  He had disappeared after the Borathein retreated north and not had contact with anyone since. Ehliss finally found him.

  “Aiden! Where have you been? I have been so worried.” She saw the lines on his face, a scar where the skin had been healed. She came to him and put her hands to his face. “You are hurt.”

  “It’s nothing, just a scar. The wound has been healed.”

  “Has it?” Ehliss asked.

  Aiden sensed the deeper question she was asking. A myriad of sarcastic responses surfaced to his mind to rebuff the tenderness of the moment but were drowned when Ehliss again touched his face. He just stared at her. Words failed to find his lips though they moved, searching for what to say.

  “I’m far from healed,” Aiden said. “I may be beyond that. I’m damaged, Ehliss, more than you know.”

  “I like damaged,” she whispered.

  “Blast you, princess.” Aiden let himself fall to his knees and into her arms. Deep sobs erupted from him as he released his guilt and forgave himself. She held him for hours and hours more.

  Reign sat with Crimson Snow, Jayden, Daneris and Aramith in the forest just east of Calyn. Her sword was sheathed at her side but she felt the Jarwynian blade still humming with a reservoir of Living Light within it. The forest north of the city was still covered with the dead of both sides. Heat from the funeral pyre radiated all around them. Tears streamed down Reign’s cheek.

  He was right. I did not understand the cost. She let the emotion flow from her unabated and unrecycled. He had healed her upon the canopy with the forest’s Light but also much of his own. Too much. She felt the currents of those around her, and knew they felt much the same as she did.

  “He has no living seed,” Daneris lamented. Reign understood. There was no one for Evrin to leave his last breath to. The cost—too high. But Hedron lived because of his sacrifice, she argued with herself. She would have paid the cost, should have. Not Evrin.

  He knew full well what he was doing, Thannuel comforted. He chose this and considered it his life’s honor to serve the Light in this way.

  “Who was he?” Reign asked. “Really?”

  “Evrin was truly a strong current, a bright spark of the Lumenatis,” Jayden said. “He was to train you, little one.” She spoke with thick emotion. “He was the last living who knew an Ancient, one from the time before the Turning Away. All who had personal knowledge of them are now gone.”

  “What will happen now?” Reign asked.

  “Noxmyra will become desperate. And also those who are her agents.”

  “Rehum still walks the land,” Aramith said.

  “Tyjil, now,” Daneris said. Reign enjoyed the sound of his deep baritone. It tickled her ears.

  “Wellyn’s advisor? What of him?” Reign asked.

  Jayden raised her head. “He is most devious and cunning. More so than most know. It is he, not High Duke Wellyn, that is the true enemy. Wellyn is no more than a means to an end in Tyjil’s larger scheme.”

  “But his army is decreased significantly. He won’t dare try again with such a dwindled force,” Daneris said. “The High Duke will sue for peace now.”

  “He will soon be removed if he has not already been,” Jayden said. “The snake will have no more use for him. Evrin warned the Dark Mother would walk the land again. He saw it long ago.”

  Our greatest challenge still lies ahead of us, Thannuel said as Reign repeated his words aloud for the group. The true battle has yet to be waged.

  “You are wrong in one thing, Jayden,” Reign said shyly as she stood. “Evrin was not the last to have known one of the Ancients.”

  Jayden looked up to Reign, uncertain what she meant, but then Reign saw understanding come across her face accompanied by a smile.

  “I am the first in the rebirth of those who once were,” Reign said.

  The return of the Ancients is not what most have assumed; those who once lived will not return. We must return to them, to their ways.

  Reign looked east, feeling the discordant currents of those just outside the forest’s borders. Crimson Snow came to her side, gazing where she looked, ears pointed forward. Reign’s stare was intent, penetrating. Strong. The grip on her sword’s hilt tightened.

  And then she felt a deep sadness from her father, sudden and potent. Something had just happened, something unexpected—she could feel it grip him. There was something…someone to redeem in all this…she could not discern Thannuel’s growing despair and it frightened her.

  Threyil? she asked inwardly. But he was too distraught to even answer. As her father’s despair came into focus, she understood. We will find him, she told him. I swear we will.

  “Increased Light always casts darker shadows,” Aramith warned. “The Dark Mother will also grow stronger as we do.” Daneris nodded in agreement.

  Reign remained undaunted. “Let her come.”

  EPILOGUE

  Day 17 of 2nd Dimming 412 A.U.

  THE HELSYAN STOOD SHOULDER TO SHOULDER with his brethren in a row that spanned more than almost his eye could see as he looked left and then right. He felt his brethren in the Dark, the Dark into which he had been reborn. There were over a thousand of them now. The Shatterer had brought many to the Dark, and would bring thousands more.

  In front of him lay the Arlethian forest, pulsing with vibrancy and Light. He could sense it and it frightened him. He wanted to destroy it. The urge coursed through his powerful Helsyan frame. He could also feel the vibrations of life within the forest through the ground, unlike his brethren that stood beside him. Though he struggled against the Dark inside him, he could not fight it any more than a man could slice water in half with a sword. The glyph carved into his back had become his new identity.

  Kyllak. The Ancient Dark constantly called to him by this name and he knew it to be his. It was not like his old name, the one that he was born into the Light with. He had been reborn to the Dark Mother. It was her voice—her song—he heard inside his head. Tantalizing. Irresistible. Binding. A melody simultaneously discordant and beautiful.

  Kyllak had struggled mightily against them when they came for him. He thought he was safe, hidden away as he watched new Helsyans born to the Dark. He ran when they came for him, ran for the succor of the forest, for Arlethia.

  Why did I do that? he wondered. Why did I resist? It seemed foolish to him now as he felt the Dark rip through his body, empowering it. He had been nearly famished before his conversion, but physical hunger no longer beset him. He saw himself as no more than a child before his rebirth. B
ut who was I? he continued to ask himself. My name? What was my name? Who am I? Who was I?

  The more he tried to grasp for this tendril of forgotten knowledge in his mind, the louder Noxmyra sang. The Song of Night whispered that he was only Kyllak and had always been. Still, he resisted.

  There’s something deeper! Images of himself as a warrior flashed in front of him and the song grew louder inside him, striving to bring his mind back to her. He felt drawn to her and repulsed at the same time. There was still something, a dim spark inside him that resisted. The Shatterer, Dralghus, could not carve out the last of it.

  Arlethian! his mind shouted. I was an Arlethian! More images cascaded in front of him like a kaleidoscope out of focus but he knew them to be of his former life, the one stolen from him.

  “You were weak then, Kyllak. I have given you new life,” came the seducing lyrics in his mind. He saw a woman—vaguely familiar—and three small children. My name! he pleaded. Cursed Heavens, what was my name!

  He sank to his knees as the song became deafening and brought his hands up to cover his ears. He could give in, give up. It would be easy.

  “The Dark is a kind master,” he heard her voice calling to him. “I am kind.” So soft, so mesmerizing. Full of promise of comfort and power.

  Something else told him it was a lie. Who he now was, what she sang to him.

  Arlethians and Helsyans were enemies, he knew. He was here to destroy the Warriors of Light, to suffocate the Lumenatis’ Influence.

  Dimming Light! My name! Please!

  Just before the Song of Night caressed him back into Noxmyra’s deep and soothing waters, making him forget all he once was, the name came.

  Antious Roan.

  THE END OF CIRCLE OF REIGN

  BOOK 1 OF THE DYING LANDS CHRONICLE