Bellator: An Anthology of Warriors of Space & Magic

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Bellator: An Anthology of Warriors of Space & Magic Page 4

by A. L Butcher


  “Because,” I sniffled. “He told you. He promised he wouldn’t tell anyone.”

  “He is my husband and I am not anyone. We tell each other everything.”

  “I don’t want to die,” I whined. I felt the queen’s shoulders rising, and I instinctively looked toward the chamber doors. Her hair slipped from my fingers as an exhausted breath escaped me. But no one entered.

  The queen adjusted herself in the seat. “The stories say you were fearless on the battlefield and killed hundreds. What was that name and title again?” She paused for a moment, and then said, “Ah yes, the Phantom Knight Solstice.”

  “I never accepted that title!” I shouted, abruptly.

  “Oh?” the queen raised her chin. “You know, I never accepted my titles at first either. Born an oracle and fated to be a queen; I inherited them.” She looked at me in the mirror, and smirked. “You should accept that title and name. They’re both strong.”

  I shifted my eyes, displeased. “It belongs to murderers.”

  “Don’t worry about its origin so much. It’s become more of a general title than the name of that mercenary group. A title given to those who refuse to die in battle.”

  “Yes, Your Majesty.”

  I continued combing her hair. From time to time, I glanced at the door’s reflection in the mirror. When the queen noticed, she laughed. “Why are you afraid now?”

  I didn’t respond.

  “Of course, I know why. Deep down inside, you’re just a girl. Very much like me.”

  No, I wasn’t just a girl. There was a darkness nesting in the corners of my heart. When it broke free, I became another person entirely. I was angry. I was relentless. And I was merciless. The world looked different from beneath the helm and its narrow eye slits further limited my field of view. Tears never flowed from under the metal, only sweat and sometimes blood.

  I scrubbed my eyes dry and said, “If the council found out what I did…they’d execute me.”

  “I see. Impersonating a soldier is indeed treason, and the penalty is death,” the queen whispered. “But Margaret, you won’t be killed,” she said, reaching behind her shoulder and grabbing my hand. “I would never allow it. You are precious to me; the last real gift from my husband. Besides, there isn’t another soul in the realm tended to by a female knight, especially a Phantom Knight.”

  She comforted me. The Queen of Stratos tended to my childish breakdown using her words and a gentle touch.

  The queen began to hum a soft tune while I contemplated execution. Could I trust her? Should I run at first opportunity? No, they would find me. I’d be dragged through the streets, humiliated, and then hung. But there was something else that bothered me.

  “So…” I hesitated. “Why bring it up now if you’ve known for a while?”

  The queen rose and glided to the back corner of the chamber, gesturing me over like a child eager to share a secret. With her right hand against the wall, the jade ring on her finger glowed until a door leading to a narrow passage opened. Inside was a small study well lit by candles placed on various surfaces. Paper was scattered across a desk, and a few dust-covered books were strewn across the shelves of a wooden bookcase.

  Her Majesty shut the door behind us and waited for the locks to fall into place. Then she promenaded a short distance toward the far left corner of the room. She knelt down and lifted a section of the wall. It rattled upward into the ceiling. She stepped to her left and hoisted another. She continued until all the subdivisions along that wall were raised to reveal sturdier shelves, more books, and a large hand-drawn map.

  I strolled toward the room’s center where the desk sat. “What is all this?” I asked.

  “We’re in Sialla’s secret study,” she said. “Secret even to me for a while.”

  I turned to face the bookshelf adjacent to the map. I studied the labels on the binders, which read: “The Magic Behind Temporal Displacement,” “Sorcery: Flow of Energy,” and “Necromancer: Theory of Souls.” I stepped away from the thick leather-bound volumes as an uneasy feeling settled over me. I staggered toward the map, which didn’t look like Stratos, or the other kingdoms.

  “And this?” I asked.

  “It’s a map of the different dimensions I found,” she said. Her Majesty walked over and touched a point on the map where the charcoal was darkest. “If time diverges from my point of view, then I’m at this center. Every decision I make, those deemed worthy by the gods, creates an alternate reality from my perspective.” She traced the lines that originated from the center point.

  I was confused. I tried to wrap my head around what she said, but the words ran in circles until I was forced to close my eyes and clear my mind. I took a deep, quiet breath.

  She said, “Margaret, I’m going to end this war.”

  I opened my eyes, and raised my head to the stern expression on her face. She was serious.

  “We’re going to summon Stratos’ army to the doorsteps of Orion and Heaven’s Shrine, and force their surrender.”

  “We?” I asked. “As in you and me?”

  “No, Sialla and I will lead the battalion. I need you to be my royal guard and protect me from the enemies outside and from those within.”

  I averted my eyes. Obligation to the crown told me to say yes, but the queen’s idea was beyond me. I didn’t understand the alternate realities, or the summoning. But there was one thing I knew for sure. I didn’t want to say it because I feared making the queen unhappy. If she lost interest in me, I’d be dead for sure. Then it occurred to me that I was going to live with that fear for the rest of my life. It was a noose around my neck and the queen’s foot rested against the stool I stood on.

  I gathered my courage and said, “Your Majesty, Sialla Danurian is…gone…from this realm.”

  “You’re right.” The queen frowned, and I flinched. The energy in her voice weakened as she spoke. “Sialla is gone from this realm, but she exists in another. I have the power to find her. You see, Sialla taught me that an oracle is not a messenger of the gods. They simply have a strong mental link with alternate versions of themselves. I may not see the enemy approaching, but another me on a similar path in life did and that vision is shared amongst us all.

  “When I gave birth to Iola, I lost that connection. The new path I was on strayed too far from the others. Sialla said my power was not gone, just disrupted. So she helped me regain it, taught me how to share mental links with others. I began whispering words into minds and it worked. From here, I could speak with Sialla when she traveled.” The queen raised her hand toward the ceiling and admired the green gem that glowed under the candle light.

  She smiled. “The clergy want you to believe that the afterlife is beyond our reach. But Sialla believed that it was another dimension. Hence—” She pointed toward the map without lowering her head. “—if the decisions we make create alternate realities, then the path where man never went astray exists. That is what we call the heavens. And the path of total chaos is hell. Upon her death, I believe Sialla’s soul drifted to another realm. I tried to find her, but failed.”

  I opened my mouth, but nothing came out. I was pulled into her world again, the other realm that her eyes remained fixed on. Perhaps a realm where the Sialla she knew existed, the husband she loved was alive, and the kingdoms that waged war were at peace. I felt like the queen wanted to leave this place, if her mind hadn’t already left.

  At last, she lowered her eyes to the map, walking towards it as she spoke. “Instead, I found an alternate version of Sialla. One just as nonchalant, charming, and powerful.” The queen’s voice rose with each descriptive word. She turned to face me with a large grin across her face. “The Sialla I found is the Headmaster of the School for Summoners and she has a student who can open passages between one place and another. If that Sialla can help the student further develop her magic, the girl can transport entire armies—”

  The queen stopped talking when she saw me shaking my head.

  “Are you lis
tening to yourself, Your Majesty? You’re speaking heresy. Should the church hear of this, they’d— Well, I don’t know what they’d do, but they certainly won’t stand by and watch. It’s no secret that you dislike the clergy. This room will only confirm their suspicion.”

  “The church?” she laughed. “What has the church done for its followers besides lay false words of endearment over their sicknesses and graves?” The queen sighed and folded her arms across her chest. “I understand your concern, that fear of the church. They expect you to believe their nonsense, or cast you out from society. But up here, in this place, the clergy have no power. Its voice is simply the discordant wail of that one council member.”

  The queen’s words didn’t relieve me of the uneasiness that crawled around in my stomach. And there was something far more dangerous about the room than its possible discovery by the clergy. It felt dark and ominous as if a very powerful spell was cast and its remnants lurked in the shadows, stalking me.

  “Margaret, are you with me?” she asked. “I need you to accept that title and name. Become the Phantom Knight Solstice again and protect me just as you did my husband.”

  I heard what she was saying. I knew what she was asking for, but I couldn’t do it. There was the fight in me that I learned from my brothers when we sparred. I could dismount a knight with my bare hands. But the Phantom Knight Solstice was a state of mind. It was an insanity that I failed to keep imprisoned. And when unleashed, it was impossible to control.

  “Your loyalty begins and ends with me, right?” she asked. The noose around my neck tightened.

  I needed an escape without committing more treason by disobeying her command. But I also felt that I needed to keep her from pursuing that plan. The king had spared my life, and entrusted me with hers.

  “What about this Sialla?” I asked. “What does she gain from all of this?”

  “Nothing,” Her Majesty replied. “Well, she gets a chance to test her theory.” The queen shrugged and leaned against a bookshelf next to the map.

  “I don’t believe it—her. I don’t trust that Sialla,” I said. “Nobody does anything without something to gain. Not even me…” I paused, thinking about what I tried to gain by going to war. It didn’t bring my brothers or father back to life. Instead, it brought me sleepless nights and loss of appetite as the faces of those I killed haunted me.

  “Nor do I,” she said. “I hope to bring about peace by eliminating those desiring war. So I’m going to storm their castle and destroy them. Why should the kingdoms as a whole suffer because of the few greedy?”

  I shook my head. “There must be another way. I mean, what’s to stop Sialla from doing the same to us? What if she turns her students on us?”

  The queen’s eyes widened. The late Sialla would have never betrayed Her Majesty, so it was probably second nature for the queen to place all her trust in this alternate version of the sorceress.

  “Why, Margaret? Why would you say that?” she asked. She turned her back to me, and the bookshelf captured her voice. “What would you have me do? I thought for sure I figured it out this time. I thought for sure you would understand.” She shook her head.

  Turning to me, she said, “It’s silly in a way, because you were my inspiration. When my husband told me about you, about what you did, I felt like I could do something too. And when he gave you to me, I thought we could do something together. The idea that there was another woman in all of Stratos that wanted to walk a path other than the one that men have laid out for us was simply exhilarating. And also too good to be true.”

  A moment of silence passed. Then she said, “You can go now, Margaret.”

  “Your Majesty, I…” My voice faded. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to…” My words fell short as a loud and sharp voice resounded in my head. It nearly brought me to my knees. I covered my ears, but the sound wasn’t entering through them. And it wasn’t just a voice in my head; it was my voice telling me to leave the palace. I was literally telling myself to get away, far away. Worse, my mind didn’t believe I was trying. When the rant became unbearable, I left the small room and escaped into the corridor outside Her Majesty’s chamber. I found no peace. I ran past some guards, stumbled into walls, shoved several maids aside, and staggered out of the palace.

  I kept running until I reached the East District of Stratos, just inside the wall where I could go no further. I collapsed onto a wooden bench sitting in front of a fountain. My head pounded. My chest rose and fell with each painful breath. But I smiled because the voice had finally stopped.

  A week later, I found myself back at the palace. I couldn’t remember why I had returned. The thoughts that led me back to that place felt like a dream I had just forgotten. I felt strange too since I had been avoiding the palace and every guard on the street as if they were plagued. Paranoia of the queen sending someone to retrieve me had stripped me of my will to go outside. But there I was, dressed as the peasant woman my mother raised me to be. A long, dark blue dress with a white tunic on top.

  The guards that usually stood in front of the silver, floral-etched palace doors were absent. Cautiously, I grasped one of the handles and pulled it outward, enough to slip inside. Immediately, a small yelp escaped my lips. Six palace guards lay across the entrance, slain.

  Her Majesty! I thought.

  I leapt over the bodies and ran down the corridor to a large foyer. I followed the trail of butchered guards whose swords, for the most part, remained sheathed and buckled at their waists. And each man lay to a side of the corridor as if they were shoved aside.

  Despite the intruder’s forward progress towards the throne room, he was going the wrong way if the queen was his target. Her Majesty hadn’t stepped foot into the throne room since the king’s funeral. That gave me plenty of time to warn her, but first, I wanted to know who he was.

  I continued walking down the corridor. A loud, disturbing groan followed by a rattle of metal meant I was getting closer. I stumbled around the corner in time to see a guard thrown to the ground. Above him were two men with their backs to me. The one on the right had short white hair. He retracted his arm, flexing his fingers, as if to loosen them. The one to the left cocked his head back in my direction to acknowledge me with his silver eye. He stared at me for a moment before they both walked on.

  I breathed. For an instant, my heart had stopped beating. The tribal patterns on the black mantles that hung over those two’s shoulders explained everything. They were Phantom Knights and their presence was as frightening as the stories described. The mercenaries without human souls were roaming the palace corridors.

  I had to warn Her Majesty. I turned to run, but one of the fallen guards grabbed my ankle. He was mumbling something. I knelt down and asked him to repeat. He grabbed the collar of my tunic and pulled me closer to force the words, “Get help. Her Majesty is in the throne room.”

  Of all the days, why was she in there then? Without hesitation, I grabbed the guard’s sword and chased after the knights. When I was playing soldier, our captain commanded us not to engage the Phantom Knights. We’d lose for sure. But what choice did I have? The best I could hope for was to serve as a distraction while she escaped.

  In the throne room, the queen sat on the throne with her right leg over her left. Between us, under the sunlit mosaic, basked in green light, stood the two Phantom Knights.

  The queen smiled. “Welcome back, Margaret. I missed you,” she said.

  “Your Majesty!” I shouted. “You have to run! They’ve attacked every guard on the way here. I’ll buy you the time!”

  She shook her head. “Where would I run to? If they’ve made it this far, surely they can go a little further.”

  I couldn’t believe what I heard. That nonchalant attitude hadn’t changed at all. It had gotten worse. The childish tone she spoke with, her casual position on the throne, and the lack of guards in the room convinced me that she no longer cared about her own life. I felt like she was ready to surrender the throne of Stratos.<
br />
  “But, your Majesty—”

  “We are not here for idle banter,” the silver-eyed knight said. “Unless this maid will retrieve that agreement, dismiss her.” He stood like a fully armored knight, minus the actual steel. His chest flared out and his head swiveled within the space confined by the collars of his garment. Every turn of the head was awkward and stiff.

  “There is no written agreement, Arbelaez,” Her Majesty laughed.

  I nearly choked when I heard the name. Avalon’s sentinel was named Arbelaez. He was supposed to be the neutral existence investigating the assassination of the Inter-Realm Council. Why was he wearing the Phantom Knights’ emblem? And what was he doing in the palace interrogating Stratos’ Queen?

  The queen nodded her head toward the white-haired knight. “I spoke to Naira personally,” she said.

  Another infamous name. Naira was the leader of the Phantom Knights and the king’s murderer. I wondered what Her Majesty had done to demand their attention?

  The queen continued, “I told him that at the end of a tunnel signifying his never-ending existence there was hope for salvation. That I could free his soul from this realm if he helped me. Naira should know just how powerful Stratos’ sorceresses are.”

  Naira scratched his head. “I don’t remember… I mean I’m not entirely sure. I have the memory of those words, but I can’t recall anything before or after we spoke? It’s like a dream,” Naira said. “But yes, it was your sorceress, Sialla Danurian, who bound my soul to this realm. And if you’re responsible for this mysterious contract, then it would seem that powerful women are abundant in Stratos.” Naira lowered his head and looked at me. I took one step back, wondering if he knew about my other half.

  “How did you do it?” Arbelaez asked the queen, using a forceful voice without shouting.

  The queen pointed toward Naira. “Only if he tells me why he murdered my husband. Naira, was killing my sorceress not enough to satisfy your revenge?”

  “I was hired—”

  “Silence, Naira,” Arbelaez interrupted. “We do not disclose the terms and conditions of past or future contracts.” Shifting his attention back to the queen, he glared at her. “I don’t believe you are in any position to negotiate. I came here to uncover the source of Naira’s delusion and eliminate it.”

 

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