by Aya Knight
The old sorcerer’s beard was dampened with drool, and sweat had seeped through his robe. His face was nearly void of color and his breathing, barely distinguishable.
Kale called out to Illadar, who stood atop a small heap of intestines, his dark skin coated in thick spatters of blood.
“What is happening, Kale?” Neelan held her eyes on the surrounding enemies who were engaged with Alden’s warriors.
“We must bring Thomas to safety. Someone I met while in Braxle has come to aid us,” Kale said as he pulled Thomas’ limp arm over a shoulder.
“Are you certain we can trust them? This may be a strategy to lure you into danger.” Her voice was filled with concern and uncertainty.
“What other options are there, Neelan?”
She huffed and slung her bow onto her back before gripping the reigns of Thomas’ horse.
Illadar approached, and together they lifted the old sorcerer onto the saddle.
“We ride now. Follow my lead.” Alden pulled back and his sizable, white horse lifted its front legs into the air before galloping quickly in the opposite direction.
“I’ll ride with Thomas.” Kale mounted behind his friend who lay face down across the saddle. “It’ll be all right, old man…” Kale whispered.
They waited for Neelan to fasten rope from her own horse to Kale’s, so the steed would not run free. She knew the importance of keeping each of the animals with them. Not having to travel on foot was a valuable luxury on their journey.
“Let’s go.” Kale clapped his heels against the horse’s side as they made way toward Alden.
“You must move with haste,” Alden scolded once they caught up to where he waited. “Poison from the Mechona snake runs through his body as we speak. Give him this immediately.” He tossed Kale a small round nugget.
Nearly missing it between his hands, Kale clamped onto the item, shaking his head to avoid the nauseating feeling that overwhelmed his dizzy mind.
“Wait a moment—what exactly is this?” Kale mumbled as he inspected the wrinkled green lump.
“It is a minor antidote. Not nearly enough to cure him, but it should stall the venom from spreading throughout his body. Without it, your friend will surely die before sundown.”
Kale glanced upward at the descending circle of light in the sky. He knew dusk was not far off.
“All right. I’ll trust you—but should this harm him in any way, so help me, I will slit your neck in two,” Kale replied as his pale eyes met Alden’s.
Kale pulled Thomas onto his side and gripped his sunken face. The antidote smelled surprisingly sweet and reminded him of a strawberry, despite its appearance. Kale pinched Thomas’ cheeks within his fingers, forcing the old sorcerer’s mouth to open as he shoved the green ball inside.
“How in Pan’s name am I supposed to get this down his throat?” Kale questioned in confusion.
“See for yourself.” Alden replied, gesturing in the direction of Thomas.
The green ball began to fizzle and foam as it slowly disintegrated on Thomas’ tongue.
Kale seized the moment and clamped the sorcerer’s lips shut before any could seep out from his mouth.
“We must continue forth to our camp. There will be help for your friend—a wise man with amazing powers of healing has joined forces with us.” Alden jerked on the reigns and trotted toward a slender path, lined with tall grass.
Kale’s jaw tightened. “I believe it’s due time for an explanation, Alden.” Though the path was narrow, Kale managed to maneuver his horse across the tall yellow grass so he rode to Alden’s right. “Secondly, we are just beyond Mirion’s farmland—why do you insist we venture farther away when the logical option would be to alert the king of this occurrence. Is that not how you humans do things?”
Neelan shot Kale a glance of warning and he immediately knew to watch his words more carefully—something Thomas surely would have scolded him for had he been conscious.
“Going back will draw unnecessary attention to the matter. Let King Valamar focus on rebuilding a loyal army. I assure you, our camp is safe and you can find refuge there for as long as you’d like.” Alden remained calm, despite the situation.
“Your offer is appreciated, but you still haven’t explained anything. Yet, here you are expecting us to follow you to safety. I want answers,” Kale spoke out of frustration, and his desire to protect those he cared for.
“Certainly; though you are quite ungrateful, boy. We have just saved the life of you and your comrades. What is it you desire to know?”
“We can start by learnin’ how you knew of our location. Your timin’ was too perfect for it to be mere coincidence,” Illadar chimed into the conversation, too fueled by curiosity to remain silent.
“Indeed. A wise question—Illadar Ranclef,” Alden replied.
Illadar’s deep brown eyes grew wide, uncertain how anyone could possibly know his true name.
“Tame yourself now.” Alden chuckled to himself. “I am aware of who you are from a mutual ally. His name is James—a young boy who is in your debt for saving his life. He recalls you quite well and is now among our warriors, fighting to end this corruption Jedah has plagued upon Revaxis.”
“It can’t be …” Illadar wrinkled the skin between his brows, trailing back in time to when he fought Sylicia, The Ice Matriarch.
“Quite ironic how things turn out, wouldn’t you say?” Alden smiled. “Now, where was I?” he cleared his throat, “We were aware of your location for some time. An old beggar watched nearby on the night you defeated Malakhar. He had followed behind on foot in hopes that you might rest so he could claim your food rations. How do I know, you wonder?” He smiled. “Any man I’ve yet crossed who spends his life begging for goods will surely share his sights for coin. My men have been tracking your movement since the departure from the Forest of Forgotten Whispers with Princess Judith.”
“You have been spying on us? For what purpose?” Kale felt angered to know that during their journey, without his knowledge, their every move was being watched from afar.
“We needed to be certain you were not an ally to our enemy. Rumors had arrived that you defeated Malakhar, but I wanted confirmation by my own men that your intention was not to mislead King Valamar. The Princess would have been a prime tool for bargaining anything you could have desired—so we scouted your location to ensure she made a safe return.”
“He makes a good point you know, Kale,” Neelan added. “With all the influence Jedah has spread across Ravondore, it’s hard to know who is truly on our side. Though his acts were cruel, there are those corrupt at heart who would be honored to join forces with Jedah.”
“All right Alden, then tell me, since you seem to know so much about the situation, what were those creatures that attacked? It was purposely directed at me, I heard them speak my name—therefore, an informant who is loyal to Jedah must have prepared the attack well before we left the castle grounds. They knew we were coming.” Kale glanced down at Thomas.
“Those were the Amakai tribe—beings that have a taste for human flesh. They utilize their poisonous darts to immobilize victims. It is said the Amakais are easily persuaded to carry out tasks when given a human sacrifice. It is our belief that whoever wanted you dead has provided them with just that. We have our doubts it was Jedah, or his lieutenant who executed this attack. We think there may be another …”
“Someone else who knows who I am and wants my head?” Kale’s grip tightened on his reigns.
“And just who are you?” Alden locked eyes with Kale.
“Sir!” A deep voice called, interrupting the conversation. “We have defeated all but one rider. He swiftly fled after our target left by your side.”
“Target? I do hope he does not mean me, Alden.” Kale glared.
Alden la
ughed aloud, “You were referred to as such during our tracking mission.” He turned to his comrade. “From this moment forth, let us address him as Kale.”
The man nodded, joining the group in a steady trot as they continued toward Alden’s camp.
“Are you sure he’s going to be all right, Alden?” Kale broke the silence after many miles had been placed behind them. The sky was now overcome with darkness and many of Alden’s men had joined the party.
He hated seeing Thomas appear so helpless—so fragile.
“I have nothing but the utmost confidence that the man I bring him to will aid your friend to a full recovery,” Alden spoke while glancing toward the horizon. “We’re nearly there.” He extended an arm forward, aiming his finger in the direction of a faint glow in the distance.
“And about time,” Illadar groaned. “My right buttock has gone numb ridin’ around on this saddle for so long.” He rubbed a palm against his backside.
The camp was larger than Kale expected and consisted of many tall white tents. Men could be seen sitting around the coals of a sizable bonfire pit. The embers illuminated the area enough for rows of weaponry to gleam into view. Swords, spears, polearms, and maces were organized onto makeshift wood racks. Those who dwelled within this camp were nothing short of being prepared for battle at any moment.
Kale’s horse trotted behind Alden’s and the familiar scent of ale drifted through the air. Kale cringed at the thought, still remembering the night in Braxle when he first tasted the bitter liquid.
“Take a look at this, gentlemen!” An obviously drunken man bellowed as he pointed toward Neelan. “They brought us a wench!”
The drunkard staggered in the direction of Neelan’s horse. His wide, sweaty fingers gripped around the reigns, holding Neelan in place.
“Remove your hand at once!” Neelan shouted.
“Watch your tongue, wench. You have no authority to speak to us in such ways. Now remove yourself from the steed and join me.” With every word the man spoke, his eyes rolled within their sockets as he fought to keep focus.
“How dare you…” Kale leapt from his horse, finding it oddly difficult to catch his balance as the world around him shifted nauseatingly.
The soles of his boots smacked hard against the dirt with each heavy step he took toward the drunkard. Without hesitation, Kale slid his fingers around the man’s neck, pinching tightly as he closed the space between them.
“From this moment, you will keep away from her. Should I see you approach, or attack her with your drunken words again—it shall be the last you speak.” Kale’s voice was low, and angered.
A bead of sweat dripped from the man’s pale brow as he glanced from Kale to two other men who sat silently watching—grinning as though amused by the situation.
A snicker broke the momentary silence and the man narrowed his glassy eyes. In front of his comrades, he had no intention of revealing fear.
“How could someone like you possibly hope to defeat a man of my size?” He flexed his thick bicep before thrusting it up against Kale’s forearm.
Their skin clapped together at the force of impact. Kale dug the tips of his fingers firmly into the man’s fleshy throat.
I won’t let go until I know she’s safe. Kale thought to himself as the hazy silhouette of Neelan took form in his peripheral vision.
Something wasn’t right. His fingers had begun to tremble profusely and the flesh beneath his nails now felt as though it would split open at any moment. This was a sensation Kale had never before experienced.
“Kale, please stop!”
It was Neelan’s voice, though she sounded distant.
“What are you tryin’ to do, kid?!” Illadar shouted as he lunged his sturdy body into Kale’s.
Kale felt his knees buckle and his hip-bone slam hard into the sandy ground. Everything seemed foggy and surreal.
“What’s wrong with his face?” Neelan questioned. Her palm brushed the strands of black hair from Kale’s forehead.
Alden approached with an obvious look of frustration. “We must bring him and the sorcerer to see Konnar at once. He has been struck by a poisoned dart. These are the effects of Mechona venom. He is extremely lucky—the strike was not direct.” Alden’s brows were laced with beads of sweat and his jaw tightened.
The drunkard gripped his neck in silence.
Neelan gasped as she glanced up, taking notice of the oozing blood which ran between his fingers.
“Let’s go,” Illadar urged. He lifted Kale, who deliriously glanced toward the sky, and braced an arm around his torso to support each wobbled step.
The old man’s fingers grazed over Kale’s face, filling the long pus-filled scrape with a clear liquid. His thin white hair fell flat against his narrow face. It had been more than two hours since he had begun the healing process. He leaned in, gently blowing a lengthy breath against Kale’s pale cheek.
“How does it feel now?” The healer, Konnar, questioned.
“Sore. But I’ll live. I’m just thankful to see again.” Kale released a soft grunt as he tilted his head to glimpse upon Neelan.
She flashed a comforting smile before bashfully concealing her face beneath long strands of brunette hair.
“Will he be all right, Konnar?” Kale directed his attention toward Thomas, who lay on his side, asleep.
“Aye,” Konnar replied. He placed a jar of cream within a small wooden case before walking across the room to wash his hands within a small bucket. “Let ’em rest now, and by mornin’ ya should see him up and walkin’ around.”
Kale sighed in relief. Thomas was the one who had always been by his side, and the thought of losing him was unacceptable. Though Kale would never admit his feelings, he needed Thomas throughout this journey. The old sorcerer was rational and always strived to ensure the best for Kale—he was the closest person to a father Kale had.
A cool breeze caressed Kale’s arm, causing the hairs to prickle upward at the follicle. Alden pushed his way through the front flap of the tent and made way toward where Kale lay.
“We must talk, boy.” Alden lowered himself atop a wide stack of straw, removing his black velvet hat. “I shall begin by apologizing for the crude behavior of my men tonight. To you as well, Miss.” He nodded in the direction of Neelan. “Our days have been long as we attempt to cleanse Ravondore of Jedah’s wrongdoings. It isn’t uncommon for some of the men to indulge in a bit of ale during their nights off patrol. The man you crossed paths with tonight had no forewarning of company joining us and I’m certain he feels quite foolish. Jonas is generally a gentleman; so again, I apologize for his inappropriate behavior.” Alden rubbed a clammy palm against his freshly shaven chin. “I do believe it is your turn now—Kale Firehart—to explain some things to us if you wish to remain here among us as an ally.”
Kale wrinkled his forehead, confused by the sudden turn in conversation. He moaned as he swung his feet around and pulled his torso upright.
“Take it easy, kid.” Illadar cautioned.
Kale knew that any sudden movement would cause his vision to impair. Though Konnar’s medication had eliminated further spreading of the venom which had entered his body, the dart had struck so close to his eyes that his sight wouldn’t become sharp until he slept off the remaining toxins.
“What exactly are you trying to accuse me of, Alden?” Kale had to blink hard as he spoke to hold focus on Alden’s stern expression.
“What you did to Jonas tonight … it was not normal.” Alden held his wide-spread palms before his face. “The marks on his neck look as though a wolf tore into his flesh. No mere man could cause such an injury.”
Kale glanced down at his own hands, recalling everything that had happened during his confrontation with the drunkard. He remembered the anger swelling within his heart at the thought of N
eelan being threatened. Then, the overwhelming sensation in his fingertips—the one he knew that meant something was happening—changing within his body.
“This is not how it might seem.” Kale still didn’t trust Alden enough to confide in his secret. “I was overwhelmed by everything that has happened—and between the effects of venom and anger I was feeling, I couldn’t help myself.”
Alden’s arm shot forward, grasping Kale’s hand tightly within his own. He lowered his face to better inspect the dirt-filled fingernails, still crusted with dried blood.
“What in Pan’s name do you think you are doing?!” Kale tugged his arm forcefully back.
“Something is going on, and as commander of this camp I shall see to finding the answer.” Alden replied while carefully watching Kale’s expression. “Pan, you say …”
Kale swallowed, realizing that out of habit he may have revealed too much.
“In lore they say he is the Dragon God. Interesting.” Alden stood, adjusting the golden chain of his cape.
“Sir, pardon my interruption, your presence is requested at the pit. Charles has been waiting to show you his new weaponry.” A thick man with no teeth poked his head in through the tent flap. His gums clicked against his tongue as he spoke.
Alden grunted, perturbed by the interruption.”Very well.” He turned to face Kale, straightening his posture to signify his authority. “Though I will return by morning to finish this discussion. I advise that you rest now.”
The moment Alden exited the tent, Kale flung his head back in relief. Having to constantly watch his words and force his mind to function as a human does was incredibly exhausting. He stood, stretching his arms to the sky. His loose-fitting brown tunic still bore the remnants of blood from their earlier attack. Kale walked across the room, knowing that both Neelan and Illadar had their eyes glued to his every move.