The Rokkaia Chronicles

by Rhys Thomas

  But did it really matter who I was, I knew the truth of her words and could feel the absurd lucidity of knowing who I had been before I was Jonathan Marcs.

  I didn’t gain some immense power up or an understanding of the why, what and how of everything. Something did click within me though; I was weak and vastly outnumbered against this ‘brother’ of mine. “... the reason I’m telling you this and not Maylith is because I want to make a deal with you and give a suggestion,” she continued, not realising I hadn’t been listening.

  “In two years-time. The breach in my own domain Janus will open fully, I ask that you allow me to take you to Janus, to meet my champion Rhys and help him close that breach, then I suggest that you consider forming an alliance. In the mean time I’ll scout and find others to join you.”

  “Hm, what about your brother? This inheritance shtick?”

  Annaleigh laughed lightly, “There is no inheritance, never was. What Ra’al mistook to be an inheritance signifier, is in fact the draw of aether; all domain leaders feel towards their creator. We give you the power, you give us. Every Observer is made to cycle the aether of a Planar Lord. We’re essentially outlets, through us you expand and divide, and grow.” I remembered something Marisa had said about how if I shared my power, my own would grow as well.

  “Alright, that kind of makes sense,” I said maybe a tad too convincingly.

  “Ra’al cannot know about this, you might also want to consider that once you’re fully restored, that you banished all domain barriers. A change may just be in order. The Observers have grown arrogant and complacent. If Ra’al finds out what you are; he’ll trap you here with thousands of menial tasks till the White falls.”

  “So, he can protect his own domains,” I finished for her, seeing where she was going. “And yourself? What do you get out of all this?” I asked her. I suddenly felt a shift in my countenance, an acceptance rolling through me in waves. Nothing had really changed; I still barely knew who I was. I still barely knew fucking anything, everything had already been a convoluted adventure. All this just meant that I now had my villain to this story.

  I was already up against insurmountable odds, what was more.

  Which gave me pause as I remembered mentioning how Annaleigh was like a game-master of sorts. Was there someone or something else out there pulling us around like puppets? I shook the thought away, “I get the man I thought of as a friend and father back. I get to assure you you’re not alone in this struggle to come and I want something in return for helping you,” she said a bit sheepishly.

  I smiled slightly, “go ahead little one, what is it?” I prompted the domain leader, almost biting my tongue as the words left me.

  “I want to be the prime overseer of all Domain Leaders and I want the astral realm Leathanria. It was what we were working on before the betrayal, the realm means something to me and it’s failing, and I have no control over it.” Her hands curled into fists and I came to understanding that theses—my supposed—creations, were all about control. Yet Sal’re’al had mentioned how Earth was an experiment of free will, so maybe...

  I no felt obligation nor attachment to a place I had no recollection. I nodded. “I’ll allow it to both, though I’ll still need to be siphoning aether from you and the others, once I can understand how to make use of it again.” I blinked and shook my head, feeling a fuzz creep across my brain.

  She beamed me a smile and pounced into, hugging me tightly. “Thank you, uncle. Do tell Maylith I’m sorry, but that she has to stop worrying and move on,” Annaleigh said. That answered that, I supposed. This Maylith was most definitely my Marisa.

  “I will,” I acquiesced, just imagining Marisa’s temper. “Though I’ll still blame you,” I said with a light chuckle.

  We parted, “I’ve got a son now,” she said proudly, “he need’s waking, so I better return Uncle. Look after yourself and don’t worry about Ra’al, I may just deal with him yet.”

  I nodded, “return to me when the time comes to help your champion.”

  She nodded slowly, stepping away from me, something was off though. “Have fun building your harem old man.”

  “Harem? I have no idea what’re you talking about Sal,” I replied with a shrug. “Oh, quick question. How do I use aether and how do I separate from my primordial half?”

  “Aether is in everything Uncle, will and shape with your mind, you’ll get it. You’ve been using it all this time. As for the latter question dear uncle, you’ve already been using the pool.” As she finished her words, a white aura sprung about covering her body, it pulsed an intense even brighter glow and then in a flash Annaleigh was gone.

  I blinked, “what does that-” I started to ask but water filled my mouth drowning out my speech. I blinked and looked around frantically as my surroundings swirled and tunnelled into a swarm of black sloshing water. I swam upwards unsure if I was actually swimming down or up, but I took the gamble anyway.

  Breaching the surface, a moment later and found myself in the pool of black water, Annaleigh and I had stood chatting before mere moments ago. Had it all been an illusion? I didn’t think so.

  I swam over to the edge, my body growing heavier and heavier with each stroke of my arms and kick of my legs. Climbing up onto the sloping bank surrounding the now deep pool, I sludge up and crawled out. My mind telling me to keep moving, then I saw why. A black smoky shadow was oozing off me and pooling onto the ground behind. I crawled for about another hundred paces, my body becoming lighter as I did so. I must’ve looked ridiculous to an onlooker playing this charade of a snakes game, trying to avoid previous trails I had left behind.

  Then the shadow ceased to pour out from me, and I looked back, seeing it all congregating into a single shape. A few minutes later a black furred wolf stood before me. Exactly how he had been when we had spoken earlier, “Shade?” I asked, though I already knew it was him. The wolf dipped his head in acknowledgement though he didn’t speak.

  “You can’t talk?” I asked the wolf out of breath. He nodded, so he understood. Can you hear my thought’s? Again, he nodded. “Okay, at least we know that. Your fur is different by the way,” I told him. Shade dipped his head down and tilted it as he looked at his fur, I got the impression that he found that to be most curious and something he hadn’t expected.

  Then his fur rippled; starting at his paws, and everywhere the ripple spread, dark grey fur remained behind. The impression of satisfaction came from him and he looked to me. We both nodded, I guess our bond is empathetic, I though purposefully. He blinked and nodded, I was about to suggest we test it more, when the loud crack of gunfire boomed nearby followed by a scream back in the direction of the women.

  “Oh no,” I muttered and spun to Shade. “Let’s go, I think someone is hurt.”

  We sprinted out the entrance to the pool and into the pathway to find a man in black leather clothing carrying a hatchet in one and a pistol in the other.

  I noted a series of bottles strapped in a sling on his belt. He snarled as he saw us and raised the pistol to fire, a firm determination shot across from shade’s empathetic bond. I understood and ducked as my right hand now fully whole, much to my momentary amazement form a veil of fire like a barrier in front of me. The shot hit and disintegrated on impact, I marvelled at the barrier and then grimaced as it flickered out.

  “Shit,” I hissed getting ready to spring away from another shot. Then Shade was there pouncing on the man, pinning him and then tearing his throat out with his teeth and jaws.

  “Damn,” I said quietly. Shade turned to regard me and saw I was okay; he flicked his ear in a come-on gesture as impatience radiated across the bond.

  *Alaric, can we talk?* came Marisa voice in my damn mind. Shit, I had actually forgotten she was in my head. How she could manage the range though made me realised she had been hiding a great deal more from me.

  *Can’t right now,* I thought back and grunted as Shade and I vaulted over a prone tree that housed several different flowers
in muddy earthen pots. We skidded as we came to the treehouse to see several dozen armed men pointing weapons and firearms at my friends.

  Shade and I growled deeply in anger at the people threatening them, the beautiful Shre laid prone on the ground; Emilia holding her from behind. Their entangled hands pressing tightly to Shre stomach as golden amber blood-like sap flooded between their fingers.

  Ilya stood blades drawn before the women protectively, “give us the dryad’s heart seed and the rest of you can go home unscathed. It’s just her heart Grayson wants.” One of the men commanded of my friends. Thankfully they hadn’t noticed us yet flanking them.

  Go left and flank them that way. If you can, try and get to the women and help Ilya. I’ll go right and see about getting us some range. I don’t particularly feel like slinging fireballs around here, and I don’t have my sword. I thought to Shade, the big wolf padded away, and I went right.

  I came up behind one of the bandits on the far-right side. There were eight of them in total, three on each side with two up front, standing about 7 metres away from Ilya. The men on each flank all had loaded muskets, a pistol and a sword sheathed on their backs. They were dressed in leather armour with an emblem stitch into the breast and back of their torsos. An emblazoned red hammer held triumphantly by a gauntleted fist on a red shield.

  I recognised the hammer as being similar to one Vivik Grayson had on his belt outside the obelisk in Ny’thier. Casting a glance across the area to see Shade creeping through the shadows, his body blending with them as his fur blacken and camouflaged for better stealth.

  I knelt down and crawled closer to the bandit, his pistol in a holster on his belt and his sword neatly sheathed on his back. Each rightly mine for the taking. “Come now beautiful, no need for such harshness between us. Besides you’re only fucking women, but I do a prefer the exotic ones. Maybe I’ll even let my boys stretch you and the blonde out before we take the dryad. Fuck her and rip her heart out,” another man said, one of the others up front.

  I heard Ilya retort; but I was too focused on moving slowly and carefully as I stood behind the unnamed man I was about to kill. Not knowing his name, seemed to make it surprisingly easier to simply kill him. With a grim smile and a mental nod to Shade, I shot my hand around the man’s belt and withdrew his pistol smoothly.

  And I heard the click as I thumbed back the hammer, the man’s hand instinctively dropped away from his rifle to glide along his belt. Just as he reach the holster, I fired, a blast of gunpowder followed by a bloody crater in the back of his skull made all eye’s whip in this direction.

  Reacting quickly, I grabbed the handle of his short sword withdrew it and pounced on the next fellow. Driving the blades tip through his squishy neck, I spun ripping the blade free and dropping the spent pistol. The other bandit managed to at least to raise his musket and pop off a shot at me but I was already using his dead and dying friend as cover. The bullet whipped into the shoulder of the dying man as his blood leaked through the gaping cut in his neck.

  The impact of the shot made the body spin and I flung the corpse aside, not wanting to be dragged down by it. I had to be quick and precise, it was night, so I was a lot weaker than during the day. I had to rely on my friends to protect themselves as I dealt with the riflemen on my side.

  A male scream came from the left of me accompanied by the sense of satisfaction from Shade. The man threw his spent rifle down, instead of reloading another shot and smoothly drew his pistol and sword. He did a confident little flourish and got into a ready stance.

  “Fucking show-off,” I muttered and then dove to the side as gunfire peppered overhead and ricochet off the trunks of trees to hit one of the two corpse nearby. I looked up in time and cursed as the bandit raised his pistol and fired, the shot slammed into my leg just above the knee and I buckled with a cry of pain.

  “Mother-fucker!” I exclaimed through clenched teeth. The man laughed, “oh you think that’s funny?” I yelled and formed a lance of fire about a foot long and sent it hurdling into the stunned bandit. “Dickhead,” I told the bandit as a hole charred through the middle of his chest to disperse out the other side. My head fell back against the ground and I felt exhausted, understanding immediately that I had just used the last dregs of my aether.

  “Dammit,” I hissed and sat up, pulling myself over to the lip of the slim bank to see what was happening with the others.

  Shade prowled along in front of the women, blood dripping in rivulets from his jaw. Ilya was just before him, her scimitars dancing in a flurry as she flowed with a confident ease around the loudmouth bandit’s attacks.

  “Ya fucking bitch!” the man exclaimed as he lunge forward in an attempt to impale Ilya. The Mælic Redeye bent backwards at the waist and twirling by his stab, then her blade flashed out and sliced deeply into the man’s armpit. The bandit screamed as his arm flopped uselessly to his side, his sword fallen from his grip.

  “Who sent you?” Ilya commanded him, bring a scimitars up under his chin. The man laughed menacingly. Then I saw his left hand fumbled behind his back, and noticed the small bottle filled with a faint sloshing amber fluid. “Ilya!” I shouted, just as the man brought the bottle around to smash it into the floor.

  But I was quicker, I saw Ilya step back in a stumble, I saw Shade moving to cover Emilia and Shre with his body. I concentrated on the bottle and the hand, as the bandit drove the glass into the ground. So, I took it from him, stole his bottle and hand all in one go.

  A black disc like portal swallowed mid-way up his forearm, and I closed my hand and severed the portal to my dimensional plane. The stump of the man’s arm smacked into the ground with a pain filled cry of terror. I grimaced in horror and wonder, knowing exactly what it fill like to see your hand missing, the need and want to wiggle your fingers and knowing distantly you felt as if you could.

  Then the wonder at what I had done, the will to save to my friends manifesting as a physical portal to my plane. I could feel the man’s hand inside it, as it was categorised as junk. Though the bottle I warped to my own hand, “I got it!” I shouted out. Ilya looked at me in shock, then smirked and righted herself moving over to punch the crying bandit in his stomach.

  “Who sent you?” she pressed her foot down on the man’s stump as he rolled over from her kick. “Fucking Vivik Grayson!” he cried out and wiggle on the floor uselessly. Shade back her up, I’m going to see about getting myself up.

  Confirmation came across the bond and I rolled over to one of the corpses and grabbed their muskets warping one away and using the other as a temporary crutch. Hobbling carefully over to Ilya as she interrogated the bandit. “Why did Grayson send you?” she asked with a promise of torture in her voice if he didn’t comply.

  “F-for the fucking dryads’ heart seed,” he hissed at her.

  “Why does he want her heart?”

  “I don’t fucking know why, he said something about a gift for Tyrannos.”

  Ilya reeled back in shock, “the emperor of Goldranos Imperia? Why would he do that?”

  “I don’t know- I really don’t,” he said frantically, weeping as Ilya applied a bit more pressure to his severed arm.

  “He’s gathered more items and people from Zwericania as well and sent them back to Tyrannos.”

  “People?” Ilya asked intrigued. The bandit nodded hurriedly understanding he may have some useful, knowledge that may keep him alive. That worried me, he must know he’ll not survive long. I cast a looked around the glade and the base of tree. My eyes found Shre lying listlessly in Emilia arms, the young witch was whispering a cascade of quiet words that sounded like a chant or a spell to me.

  “Yeah, goldran slavers have this device that they use to un-ice portions of the freeze covering Zwericania. The people they take are still alive in there but frozen in time.”

  “Fuck,” Ilya breathed out and looked at me. I thought on it, wanting to stop these people from kidnapping and enslaving but at the same time I realised we couldn’t do anyt
hing. I shook my head, “we can’t,” I said softly. Ilya opened her mouth to argue but paused; and I saw the same look of dejection and understanding I had come to.

  “Even if we did pursue, they’ll likely to be gone by the time we get there.”

  “With their prisoner’s and more,” I nodded. I looking down the bandit, “Where is Vivik Grayson now?” I asked him.

  This time he smiled at me gleefully, “on his fucking way.”

  “Shit,” I said, and Ilya whirled around to drive her scimitar point first through his eye. I swallowed looking down at my bloody and wounded leg. The blood soaking into my nice new boots, I hopped over to Emilia, “Is she alive?’ I asked her and she nodded distractedly.

  “M-master?” Shre said, her beautiful face; marred by pain. I understood in that moment that Shre had been around for a very, very long time. Hundreds, possibly thousands of years, only to die from a musket ball before I got to know her.

  “You’re alright Shre,” I said to her and bent down to clasp on her hands and give it a squeeze.

  “I waited for you, Annaleigh said- said you would return and give us back our roots once again.”

  “I don’t… Yeah- I am Shre. I’m here,” she smiled though she kept staring lifelessly up at into Emilia’s face. The young witch still hurriedly whispering a spell, though I saw nor felt any kind of magic coming from her.

  Shre’s hand snatch my own from around hers and pressed something into my palm, then let go, her grip slackening as she died. “Shre?” I said though I knew. Her head lulled to the side as her big green eyes closed, her stem-like eyebrows drooping sadly.

  I looked from Shre’s dead form to Emilia, the young witch raised her head and met my gaze. Sadness and regret. But something nagged at me, a twinge in my hand.

  Small rattling movement, like a bead in a bottle clinking against the confinement. I looked at my hand and saw a small seed in my palm, intricate scroll work decorated the small seed like a tiny mural of existence, and I knew what I held.