by C. K. Rieke
“A whiteblade?” Veranor asked. “How? They were defeated so many ages ago. You defeated them lifetimes ago.”
“Yes, one of the same whom I defeated, one of the ones who defended those fire-breathing beasts has come forth. Whoever he is, he no longer hides in the shadow. Now he stands under the light of the sun— under my sun!”
“Commander,” the queen said in a stern tone. “We cannot allow this man to recruit even one person to their criminal ranks. Word has reached my kingdom that there are those of yours with their blood spilled on the sands.” Her tone was grim.
“My unit?” he said with his voice raised. “I’ve not heard a word from them in over a week’s time. Last I heard, they had spotted Lilaci and another on the sands and they were in pursuit. Are you saying—?
“They’re gone,” the queen said. “It’s . . . unfortunate.”
Veranor looked angry by the way his bottom lip curled up, and the white tips of his teeth shown. His eyes grew cold, and he clutched the water cup tightly, then placed it on the table next to him abruptly. “She won’t get away with this. Foro was too far, this is beyond redemption of any sort. I’ll flay and burn her for this.”
Gorlen turned to look back out the windows. She now wore a long dress of glimmering silver that twinkled in the sunlight through the glass. “She was your favorite . . . student, was she not?”
He looked over at her spitefully. “I’ve had many students over the years, too many to count in fact.”
“Two hundred sixty-eight.”
“What?” he asked the Witch Queen who’d said the number.
“Two hundred and sixty-eight,” she repeated. “You can’t count that high?”
Waves of anger seemed to wash over Veranor, and he began to breathe harder.
“Well,” the goddess said. “Your best is now your greatest failure. How does that make you feel? To me, it makes me ashamed of you. I hope you feel a great deal of betrayal, because her death will not completely forgive your failure. I’ve another tidbit to add to your torment.” The queen turned in her seat to look at the goddess over her shoulder.
“What?” the queen asked.
“Your other disciple, Fewn—”
“That cannot be,” Veranor said.
“You doubt my word?” Gorlen fumed suddenly from the corner of the room, and the sun began to disappear, and dark clouds gathered around her, and crept along the floor like smoke smoldering from a hot fire.
“I do not doubt you,” he said. “I beg your forgiveness. I only meant that I cannot believe that Fewn would turn as well. She was a refined assassin through and through.”
“She was with the Dragon’s Breath. She was bringing her back here, and then something changed.”
“What?” the queen asked her, “what changed?”
“She,” Gorlen looked away with a disgusted look on her face. “She— began to care for the girl. Her feelings have gotten in the way of her duty. She now— again— is with her and Lilaci. Insult added to injury. This has gotten so . . . Twisted . . . That we cannot wait any further. We cannot delay in ending this madness.”
“Agreed,” the queen said, standing and bowing to her. “What do you beckon of me and this great city of yours?”
The goddess’ temperament subsided, and in a cool and collected tone again, and with the black clouds and smoke dissipating— letting the sunshine back into the room. “Why—” she said. “Him.”
“Him?” the queen asked. “Just him?”
Veranor looked puzzled. “We can take a score of soldiers with us. I have my Scaethers all collected back within the city walls, ready to leave with us with one hour’s notice.”
“Listen, mortal,” she said to him in not so much a mocking tone, but nonchalantly, as if she meant to address him like a man addresses a dog. “I have no problem doing all of this on my own. I fear none of this, and I will easily kill any and all of them in seconds.” She looked up at Veranor with a playful smile then. “I just enjoy you, you entertain me.” She looked back outside to the underlying city and waved the back of her hand at him with her fingers extended. “Besides, you need your vengeance, or revenge, or whatever you want to call it as well.”
“What about the girl?” the queen asked. “Are you saying you are going after the girl with just the two of you?”
“Yes,” the goddess said. Then there was silence among the three for a few moments. “Why?” Gorlen said with a sigh at last.
“Well . . . Why send out Lilaci in the first place, and give her the gift you gave her? I assumed there was a reason the Six didn’t want to go after her yourselves? I mean absolutely no disrespect. My heart and hand belong to you, I just can’t help but be curious.”
“There is no reason,” the Witch Queen shot the response at her coldly. “We leave at dusk.”
Before Veranor and the queen even heard the last syllable from her mouth, the goddess was gone. She flew past them and out the door like cold wind entering a cracked open door on a dark winter day.
The queen looked up at Veranor and let out a deep breath. Upon seeing her do this, he did the same. “A Knight of the Whiteblade has returned,” she said. “I can’t believe they still exist after all this time. And I can’t help but wonder what they’ve been doing these centuries, hiding out on the sands. How many are there? Are there direct descendants to those who fought in The Serpentine Wars?” She held her hand up to her mouth. “What if they are still out there? Hundreds? Thousands?”
“My queen, it is difficult to believe there are that many in hiding. The gods would’ve seen them. They must be few.”
“But their secrets . . .” she said. “They held weapons and wisdom lost over the ages, weapons that could pierce dragonscale, and knowledge to change the currents of water and sand. They had descendants of the oldest of men . . . Men and women from before the time of the gods. Can you imagine what wisdom that knight holds? Aren’t you interested to know what he knows?”
“My queen,” Veranor said, now seemingly exhausted. “To be quite honest, all I wish for now is some hard sleep on a soft cot before I’m with her alone again.”
“I can’t say I blame you, she is quite terrifying.” The queen leaned in closer towards him. “I’m wary of saying such things, but I think the streets can use a break from the unfortunate rumors floating around. Although I must say I am surprised there are none of the mages traveling with you. If no soldiers, it’s always wise to take a little magic. The Whiteblade were not known for strong magics, but they were clever in the ways they wielded their strengths. Be careful Veranor. Be vigilant. You travel with a companion whose strength you could ask for none higher, but Lilaci does have the legendary Sanzoral now. Gorlen may be invincible, but you are not.”
“No,” he winked. “Close to it though.”
“I take your words as truth. You have always served the crown with honor. And up until the last of these unfortunate events and revelations, you were in line to receive that which you always desired.” She paused for dramatic effect, and Veranor’s eyebrows and ears perked up. “When Lilaci came back with the girl, you were to be given a lordship and a surname. You were to become one of the elite of the kingdom, and the only male of the Lu-Polini to be one in this time.”
Veranor didn’t smile, he hardly blinked even. He was stunned in a state of shock. The thing he always wanted most— to get out of the shadow of his appearance. He was to be one of the most high-esteemed people in the entire kingdom. So close he was, yet so far away. “Lilaci,” he murmured in hatred.
“I’m sorry,” the queen said as she rose from her seat. Two guards at the door shifted their positions towards her as their armor rang. “The king— may his soul rest in peace— was quite excited to hand the name and honor down to you. If only things would’ve turned out differently. That’s the way of the Arr— there will always be a hint of betrayal in all tales, and more blood on the sands than water.”
She glided up to Veranor, and she looked up into his eyes. S
he held a somber gaze on her face, as if saying goodbye to an old friend after leaving for a far-off voyage. “Take care commander and do bring back the girl. Perhaps there is a bit of redemption along the line for you here. Only the gods can decide. Farewell.” She looked away from his eyes and towards the door. She was caught off-guard and quite alarmed as she felt a touch to her hand. A set of fingers delicately held onto her fingers as she began to walk away. She shot an embarrassed, yet astonished look at him. The two soldiers moved in quickly, but she turned to them. “It’s okay, stand down.” She pulled her hand from his, and she saw Veranor for what might be described as the ‘most vulnerable’ she’d ever seen him. His shoulders were slightly hunched over, his hair was almost disheveled, and his eyes were deep and dark. “What is it Veranor?”
“The— the—” he said as he lowered his head in what looked like shame. “The name— Now that I know that it can never be mine. Could I ask of you the name I will never be given? I know the king wouldn’t—”
“Sepherophinos,” she said to him. “Veranor Sepherophinos the first.” She then turned and walked towards the door, the two guards following after her.
Veranor stood there in a stupor for several minutes without speaking. He swayed slightly back and forth, as if in a drunk stance. Then his lips moved, with no smile, or expression, he said, “Sepherophinos.” A tear welled in the corner of his eye and dripped down his cheek. “Veranor Sepherophinos, the first of my name. All you needed to do was do what was told of you. Why didn't’ you bring back the god-forsaken girl, Lilaci?” His lips began to quiver in anger. “Why didn’t you listen to me? Why didn’t you do as you were told? I could have been one of them. I could’ve been looked up to by all of Sorock, and all the others like us. I was supposed to be the shining light on our cursed race. It was supposed to be me.” He lifted his fists up into the air, shaking them in fury. “It was supposed to be me! It was supposed to be me!”
He lowered his fists and wiped his cheeks free of tears. Looking over both shoulders to make sure none were around to see him, he took another deep breath. “Veranor Sepherophinos. Has a good ring to it. Thank you, King Gofgenden. I would’ve served you well if things had turned out differently. I’ll promise you one thing from beyond the grave, my king— by the time my heart stops beating, these sands— these cursed sands will never feel the same. I may never live up to the future you hoped for me, but I will wreak havoc like a great sandstorm upon those that get in my way forever after this moment. There is no fear greater than for the man who has no fear. Now I am free, my king. Thank you, thank you for this gift. Sepherophinos the Fearless.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
Strong winds gusted down from the high cliffs of the mountain. They whispered soft hints of what was to come up on the sheer rock above. Up there somewhere on the high-reaching walls of the Dune of the Last Dragon, Kera told them of the box with golden hinges. They’d decided to wait until the following morning to scale the mountain, to give them a full day’s light for the upcoming difficult climb.
While they stood examining the rockface, Burr leaned over and said to Roren, “You know, I’ve never seen power like that before. Raw destruction like that hasn’t existed since the time of the fire-breathers.”
“Yes, I know,” Roren said. “Makes you happy that she’s on our side.”
“The look in her eyes when that Scaether had his knife to Kera . . . Even the gods would be wary to mess with a woman with eyes of fury like that.”
Roren looked over at Kera as she tended Fewn’s wounds. Then he looked at Lilaci, who watched Kera help Fewn. “They’ve got some serious scarring between them. We’d better keep an eye out. Kera cares for both of them deeply, but I expect it to get rocky.”
“I still think Lilaci should’ve gone through with it,” Burr said while stroking his gray beard. “I would have.”
“I,” Roren said, “I’m torn. I’m sworn to keep Kera safe, but I’m also sworn to obey her every will. Don’t mistake me when I say I wanted Lilaci to do it.”
Burr gave Fewn and angry eye. “How can we trust her? Just because Kera wants us to?”
“Just because The Dragon’s Breath is spirited in the body of a young girl, doesn’t mean she knows more than we ever will. The visions she has have always proved to be true. I don’t doubt her words. Honestly, Burr . . . I believe the only thing that matters here is Kera, our opinions and even lives may not matter in the end. She has to survive. All the rest is but a shifting gust of wind.
While the two men talked between themselves about Lilaci and Fewn’s past, and their shaky future, Kera, just finished wrapping Fewn’s arm in white cloth, stood up and looked over at Lilaci with a smile, yet she seemed timid. Lilaci smiled back. Kera’s pale gray eyes shimmered in a lovely light, her face was clean of sand and showed her light rosy cheeks in the warm sunlight. Long, thin black hair floated softly in the breeze and her welcoming smile seemed to resonate with Lilaci like a wildly beating heart.
There she is— my girl.
Lilaci fell to a knee and held out her two arms, while a gentle tear streamed down her face. Kera met her smile with her own, tears welling up in her eyes.
“I knew you’d come,” Kera said, wiping her wet cheeks, still standing a couple of meters from Lilaci. “I just knew it.” She ran over and into Lilaci’s arms, which wrapped around her tightly.
“I won’t leave you again. I promise, my girl, I’m not leaving.”
The two cried into the other, both holding each other tightly.
Finally, after all this time. All the blood that’s been shed, all of the long days and nights upon the sands. Here she is. This feeling I get, I just can’t describe it. The closest I can relate it to is from my distant past, when I was just a girl. The feeling of my father’s smile. The feeling of being wrapped in the safety of my mother’s arms. The feeling of watching my brother and sister play in the candlelight under a tent in the moonlight. She makes me feel like a person, someone worthy of love, and she gives me life. She gives my life meaning. “I don’t want to ever let you go Kera.”
“I missed you, Lilaci. I— We need you.”
Lilaci’s eyes shot open and over at Fewn, who was watching the two of them. She had a terribly concerned look on her face.
“I know what she did to you was awful,” Kera said.
Lilaci pulled back from Kera but left both her arms on her shoulders. Looking deeply into her gray eyes, wet with tears, she said, “What she did to us.”
“Fewn brought me here,” Kera said. “We knew you’d come find us. She could’ve taken me to them, but she didn’t. Now we’re here all together again.”
“Listen, Kera,” Lilaci said. “These men I brought with me, they’re good men. Roren you know. The other is a knight who’s come to help us from a long ago forgotten order. We don’t need her. Fewn can find her own way now. She made a choice back there. She chose to take you from me.”
Kera’s eyes grew sad. “I remember.”
“I’ve known her practically my entire life. She’s not one of us. She’s a tormented soul, she’s lost. We need to cut her loose. I can’t trust her around you again.”
“No,” Kera said, shaking her head. “She’s not like that anymore. I care about her, she’ll be all alone out there if we let her go. I know she needs to stay with us, whatever happens, she has a part to play in our path still.”
“Listen, I know that’s how you feel, but she left me in that nest of sandworms to be eaten, alone.”
Kera’s eyes moved over to look at Fewn, as she appeared vulnerable by herself with her new wounds now bandaged.
Fewn leaned against the rock with one arm and stood up, slowly walking towards Lilaci and Kera.
“Looks like the reunion is about to take place,” Burr said, who looked down to see Roren grabbing at the hilt of his sword. “Easy there, Lilaci can handle herself.”
“It’s not Lilaci I’m sworn to protect,” Roren said and walked over towards Kera. He gently put hi
s hand on Kera’s shoulder. “Why don’t you come with me for just a moment, Kera.”
Kera looked up at Lilaci, not wanting to leave, but to be involved in the upcoming conversation. “Go ahead, Kera. We are just going to talk.”
Kera followed Roren’s lead and they walked back over to where Burr was standing. She looked worriedly at Fewn as she walked over. “Kera, I’d like you to meet one of the descendants of the Knights of the Whiteblade, Sir Demetrius Burr.”
Dropping to a knee, and lowering his head, he said, “M’lady, it truly is an honor.”
“Sir Demetrius Burr, nice to meet you.”
“Oh, and there’s no Sir about me. Simply Burr will do just fine.”
Fewn stopped just before Lilaci, within arm’s reach. The two stood there staring at the other. Fewn stood just slightly taller.
“She seems older,” Lilaci said. And with a surprising speed, Fewn rushed towards her, and wrapped her arms around her.
“I’m so glad you’re alive,” Fewn instantly began to weep. “I’m so sorry for what I did. I wasn’t thinking. I was so scared. I know you hate me now, but I hope you can forgive me.” The words were difficult for her to say, as she cried loudly, and her eyes flooded with tears. “I really do want us all to be a family. Just like we talked about before. Back before I screwed everything up. I don’t want to be alone. I want to be with you, I want to be with her. Please don’t hate me. Please.”
“I told her I’d try,” Lilaci said, but gently pushed Fewn back to where she stood. Look at her, she doesn’t even look like the same person that I grew up with. She looks like a strong wind would blow her right over. I— I almost feel bad for her. No. Remember what she did. Remember that you almost died back in those caves. She took her from you. She took Kera away for herself, they were going to kill Kera. “Why did you take her?”