The Tales of Neroman: The Silver Savior

by Tom Burton

  “No!” Azdus cries. He falls to his knees.

  The two wizards look closer. Civilians are slaughtered by the orcs inside the city. A dragon breathing fireballs sets fire to the buildings from above. They see Aaron plunging his sword through Luke’s chest as Jaylen watches. They see Aaron and Jaylen both escape. They look back over the whole city, watching it slowly burn to the ground.

  Azdus breaks the trance. He stands.

  “I can’t watch anymore.”

  He walks to the other side of the room.

  “It’s time, Goras,” Azdus says. “We have to help the humans in this fight; we have stood by far too long.”

  “We don’t know how powerful Mutaro has become,” Goras argues. “We need to gather our full strength if we are going to defeat him.”

  Azdus’s resolve does not waver.

  “When we plunged this world into war hundreds of years ago, the humans stood by us. When everything fell apart, and Mutaro was beating us, the humans stood by us. And even when we abandoned them, the humans never stopped believing in us. Now, in their darkest hour, we have to help them.”

  Goras looks back at Azdus for a few seconds then nods in reluctant agreement.

  “Let’s pack up.”

  The two wizards begin to pack some weaponry and books. When all is ready, they leave the hut intently.

  Back in the royal forest, just hours after Aaron Silver has left the camp, Jaylen Vance wakes up in a tent that he built himself the night before. He slowly gets up and walks out of his tent. The woodlands block the sun shining through the campsite, but Jaylen still feels freshened by his night’s rest. He begins walking through the campsite, seeing the few thousands sleep silently as the smoke continues to rise in the fireplaces they made. The armor and weaponry, including his own, spread out across the campsite. Jaylen gently walks away from camp, and toward the forest line, with his hands behind his back.

  Jaylen calmly makes it to the forest line of the Royal Forest, and he sees the destruction of his home for the first time in broad daylight. Huge smoke continuing to come out of certain parts of the capital, with no orc army in sight. Jaylen stops and stares at Dellmoor, feeling remorse what he has lost at the capital.

  “Are you okay?”

  Kamara’s voice is suddenly close beside Jaylen. However, Jaylen keeps his gaze on Dellmoor. Kamara, now standing shoulder-to-shoulder with Jaylen, notices his silence.

  “Yeah,” she says. “I know. Too many good people died last night.”

  Jaylen sighs.

  “But how many didn’t have to?”

  Kamara looks at him uncertainly.

  “You and Aaron called the evacuation early enough for people to get out. If you hadn’t, maybe none of us would be standing here.”

  “No king has lost Dellmoor since the War of the Wizards. Even though I am Lord Commander of the King’s armies, I am now sitting in the royal forest watching the capital burn.”

  Hearing the pain in Jaylen’s voice, Kamara puts her hand on his shoulder.

  “None of this is your fault, Jaylen. No one, not even the wizards, could have defended the city against such a formidable foe.”

  Jaylen gradually looks to her and offers a hint of a smile. Then, he turns back to the capital.

  “When I was training with the Red Riders, they had me read of the great wars of old, to learn what they fought for, and what we are fighting for. All that I learned was just how much the country thrived before the Great War. We lived with so many other races: orcs, centaurs, elves, mages, even talking animals. We all were coexisting with each other. Humans were not even the dominant species—we were almost as low and common as the orcs—except for the Pioneers, who earned a straight passage to the wizards. But as the war raged on between the wizards, these advanced races were the first to be extinct.”

  He pauses then sighs once again.

  “Now look at us, we are living in a world where the orcs are the dominant species.”

  Kamara shakes her head.

  “Not yet.”

  Jaylen snorts in laughter.

  Kamara looks over at the capital in confusion.

  “Where are the orcs? Surely they did not abandon the city after winning such an astounding victory?”

  “When Aaron shoved his sword through Luke Snow’s chest and killed him, the orcs had no commander to turn to. They must’ve retreated back to Redlock to receive further instruction from Mutaro.”

  “Who’s Luke Snow?” Kamara asks.

  Jaylen looks at the ground beneath him.

  “He was the commander of Mutaro’s armies. A human, a traitor of our race. And when he turned, he betrayed and murdered my best friend.” Jaylen holds back his anger as he says this.

  Just then Jaylen and Kamara see the many of the civilians who had camped overnight moving out of the forest and heading toward Dellmoor.

  “What are they doing?” Kamara asks.

  “They want to collect their dead,” Jaylen replies.

  Then he, too, starts walking toward Dellmoor.

  “Is this such a good idea?” Kamara asks.

  Jaylen turns back to look at her..

  “The orcs are long gone…and the civilians don’t deserve to lie under the weight of our failures.”

  Kamara nods. Then the two follow the crowd toward Dellmoor.

  As the civilians make it back to Dellmoor, they begin to clear some of the rubble from the razed city. Empty carriages with horses wait on the outskirts. As some of the survivors find their dead, they pick them up and place them onto the carriages. Once the carriages are full, the horses carry the dead back to the edge of the royal forest, where Laura and other survivors unload them then send the empty carriages back to Dellmoor.

  As Kamara desperately searches the streets, she sees a man’s body under a stone slab. She rushes over to find that it is Sam. She places her hand over her mouth. As tears roll down her eyes, she tries to remove the stone slab that covers Sam’s lifeless body. As she struggles, she punches the stone in frustration.

  “Help! Help!” she cries and starts crying uncontrollably.

  Jaylen, who has also been searching through the rubble, sees Kamara and rushes over to help her.

  “What’s wrong?”

  But the next moment he sees Sam. He closes his eyes, remembering the shame, then helps Kamara remove the slab. They push it off of Sam’s body and out of the way; but Kamara just looks at Sam, and gently places her hand on his cheek.

  “I’ll take him,” Jaylen offers.

  Kamara nods.

  Jaylen picks up Sam’s lifeless body and sets him over his right shoulder. Then he walks toward one of the carriages, while Kamara turns away. She sees the surviors not only collect the dead lying in Dellmoor, but she sees them collect food and water for everyone, and places them in separate carriages.

  Back in the royal forest, Laura continues to take some of the dead off of the carriages. She passes the bodies to other survivors, who take them to a nearby location, where the dead all lie in rows. All of a sudden, Laura turns to see a lifeless child in the carriage. Shocked, she gently picks him up and softly passes the boy to another survivor. A scream is then heard. The two turn to see a woman running toward them. She takes the boy in her arms and begins to cradle him. Laura watches as the mother’s tears fall down her cheeks then drop onto the boy’s face. She holds her son tightly, screaming all the while. Laura sighs then turns toward the carriage again. She begins unloading the dead once more.

  Hours later, as the final few carriages move toward the edge of the forest, Jaylen and Kamara walk back with some of the other survivors helping at Dellmoor. As the two arrive at the royal forest, some of the civilians approach them.

  “Is it true? Has Aaron left us?” one of the survivors asks.

  “Left?” Jaylen asks. “What do you mean ‘lef
t’?”

  “Aaron has not left us,” Daniel says, coming out of his tent just behind them.

  A crowd then begins to form.

  “Well where is he then?” one of survivors shouts.

  Daniel takes a moment before answering.

  “He has gone to Redlock, to negotiate a cease-fire.”

  “Cease-fire?” another man cries. “Did you see what they did to us last night?”

  Aaron raises his arms to calm everyone down.

  “I am well aware. But we have a few thousand people here. At best, half of us are soldiers. Mutaro has thirty-five thousand orcs—and that number is increasing each and every day. A cease-fire needs to take place if we are to have any chance of survival.”

  Daniel tries to convince them; the crowd’s hostile mind-set quickly fades, and the crowd begins to disperse. Daniel sighs in relief and walks back to his tent. Laura sees him. She quickly follows. As she does so, she sees Daniel pour himself a drink, collected by those who ventured to Dellmoor.

  “So what plan does Aaron have for the most powerful man in Neroman?” Laura asks sarcastically.

  Her tone slightly startles Daniel.

  “Well, if the cease-fire suggestion doesn’t work, he’s going to try and kill him.”

  Laura looks at Daniel with a shocked expression in her eyes.

  “I know,” Daniel says. “But if anyone is going to do it, it’ll be him.”

  “We cannot afford to lose more people,” Laura sternly tells him.

  Daniel smiles. “I feel like we are back in training days, you telling me what to do and what not to do.”

  Laura smiles back.

  “Yeah,” she replies. “They were good days.”

  Daniel then gives her a grateful hug.

  “I hope Aaron comes back,” Laura whispers.

  “He will,” Daniel replies. “He always comes back.”

  After a few moments, Jaylen barges in.

  “I’m sorry—is this not a good time?”

  Daniel and Laura separate.

  “No,” Daniel says. “It’s fine.”

  Jaylen then comes farther into the tent.

  “Is it true about Aaron? That he has gone to Redlock?”

  Daniel looks at Jaylen and nods.

  Jaylen sighs.

  “Well good luck to him.”

  “He will come back,” Daniel assures Jaylen.

  “How many horses do we have…?” Laura asks.

  “Thirty,” Jaylen replies.

  “We need to send scouts across all of Neroman, including the West, to search for any survivors,” Daniel suggests. “Once we find some, we bring them back here.”

  Jaylen nods in agreement.

  “When should they return?” Jaylen asks Daniel.

  “Give them two days, then they come straight back.”

  “And what have the men and women here? It will not be easy training farmers and stable hands.”

  “But they will need training nonetheless, for we have nowhere to run,” Daniel replies.

  Jaylen nods to indicate he accepts Daniel’s idea, then walks out of the tent.

  In the Northern regions of the Crown Lands, Aaron Silver paces through a muddy pathway in the middle of a dense forest. The cold air forces Aaron to wrap his arms around his chest to keep warm. He hears the noises of wolves howling around him. He stops momentarily, thinking about the wolf attacks he encountered when coming back from Redlock. He grabs the hilt of his sword, but the howling of the wolves quickly fades into the distance, and Aaron continues down the muddy path.

  Soon, he comes across a small hut in the distance. Aaron recognizes it as the same hut he left when meeting the two wizards, Azdus and Goras. Aaron then jogs toward the hut, despite the sticky mud that slows him down. He reaches the hut and enters it.

  “Hello…?” Aaron calls.

  He is met with no answer.

  He moves farther into the hut, walking around slowly.

  “Azdus…? Goras…?” he calls, a little louder.

  Once again, no response.

  As he walks around the hut, he soon realizes that the open books that were here during his last visit have vanished. This confuses him. He continues looking around the hut. Soon, however, he hears muttering outside. Assuming it is the wizards, he rushes from the hut.

  Outside, Aaron realizes the muttering is from a band of orcs, slowly moving toward him from the dense forest surrounding the hut.

  “We thought we heard noises…!” one of the orcs shouts across to Aaron.

  Aaron draws his sword. He stands his ground outside of the hut. The orcs continue taunting him, but Aaron continues walking towards the orcs front of him. But out of nowhere, an orc hits Aaron over the head behind him, causing Aaron to fall to the floor on his stomach. Then, suddenly, Aaron feels a great weight hit the back of his head. He falls to the ground. The orcs rush over to him. As Aaron lifts his head to look at them, one of the orcs draws his sword and presses the blade against Aaron’s neck.

  “So…who might you be?” the orc asks.

  “My name is Aaron Silver, and I wish to speak to Mutaro.”

  The orcs recoil, the panic apparent in their eyes as they look at each other.

  “Grab him!” the orc holding the sword instructs. “Tie him up! We head straight for Redlock!”

  The orcs grab some rope and tie Aaron’s hands behind his back. Then they drag Aaron as the rest of the orcs around the hut join them, heading northward.

  As night gathers, the band of orcs continues dragging Aaron. His ties have strained and bloodied his wrists. The orcs meet up with a second company of orcs at a temporary campsite. The new band of orcs is sent into a wild, frenzied cheer at the site of Aaron Silver being dragged past them.

  Soon, Aaron sees a wooden prison cell in front of him. An orc opens the door and throws Aaron in. He slides across the muddy floor; his entire stomach and chest become mired in mud. He hesitantly sits up and leans on the wooden surrounding of the cell, spitting out mud that has gotten in his mouth.

  Aaron then turns quickly around in the cell. He sees two other prisoners on the other side of the cell.

  Shocked at seeing other humans in the North, he asks: “Who are you?”

  The two prisoners slowly look back at Aaron.

  “Prisoners,” one of them bluntly replies.

  “But—who are you?” Aaron pushes.

  “We were the lords of the Crown Lands,” replies one of the prisoners. “We escaped the annihilation of Rylom, but were eventually taken by these…things.” He points toward the company of orcs gathered beyond the cell walls.

  Aaron crawls over to them.

  “I need to head to Redlock, but you don’t. I can help you escape.”

  The two lords simply shake their heads at him.

  “How?” one of the lords asks sarcastically.

  Aaron reaches to one of his boots. He struggles to draw a knife out from his left boot. When he has retrieved it, he throws the knife to the lords.

  “The orcs didn’t disarm me of that. You cut your ties, and you run. If I distract the orcs, you may have a chance to head to the royal forest, where everyone else is currently staying.”

  The lords, tied up against wooden posts, continue to look hesitantly at Aaron.

  “Look around you,” the first lord says. “There are tens of thousands of them! And there’s what—a few hundred of us? Maybe? I heard what happened to Dellmoor. If the orcs have that kind of power, what chance do we have?” the lord asks passionately.

  Before Aaron can answer, he sees an orc charging toward the cell. The orc throws the door open and grabs the hilt of his sword.

  “There is only one way to quiet you!,” he mutters.

  He hits Aaron over the head with the sword, knocking him unconscious.<
br />
  Hours pass as the night’s sky darkens. Aaron begins to open his eyes; the mud on the floor rubs against the side of his face. He moves slowly, pressing his arms against the floor in an attempt to sit up. Dazed and confused, he slaps the mud from his face and looks around the cell.

  As he regains his full vision, he sees the two lords lying back against the wooden poles of the cell. He then looks down to see his knife in one of the lord’s open palms. He looks up the arm to see the wrist has been slit.

  Aaron scans the wrists of both of the lords. All four wrists have been slit. Dried blood cakes their hands. Aaron crawls backward, recoiling in shock; his eyes begin to fill with tears. He hears an orc’s laughter then turns to see an orc standing over him, on the other side of the cell.

  “It was their choice…hope is certainly lost on your race!”

  The orc walks to the door of the cell and opens it. Aaron’s eyes are still fixed on the lifeless lords. The orc drags Aaron out of the cell.

  “We must leave,” the orc says, “our master is keen to see you.”

  The two join the rest of the horde, marching out of the camp, toward Redlock.

  As the sun rises the next morning, Aaron sees Redlock ahead of him. This time, he sees no woodlands surrounding the stronghold—only black smoke covering the landscape around him.

  Thousands of orcs are now surrounding Aaron, cheering in a frenzied celebration at the site of him. Some of the orcs even begin to throw stones at him.

  Even though some of the stones hit him, Aaron ignores the intimidation. He focuses on Redlock ahead of him.

  As a dozen orcs drag Aaron inside, the rest of the orcs—thousands—wait outside, continuing to jeer loudly. But their loud taunting suddenly vanishes as the doors of the stronghold close behind Aaron.

  A deathly silence falls across the halls of Redlock.

  As the group continues dragging him toward the throne room, Aaron glimpses a glass container filled with red liquid in a nearby room. The orcs notice Aaron’s curiosity, and hit him over the head.

  “Eyes forward,” one of the orcs commands.

  As the group makes it to the closed double doors of the throne room, they are met by one of the few orc commanders. Larger and wider than the other orcs dragging Aaron, the commander approaches Aaron. The orcs surrounding Aaron drop him and move away, cowering in fear. The orc commander grabs Aaron’s neck and begins to choke him. He then lifts Aaron up in the air. Aaron grabs hold of the orc’s arms, attempting to throw his hands off him, but to no avail.