Chronicles of Fen- Cernuin

by Y W Lumaris

  Not saying anything further, he watched her leave – shrinking smaller and crawling under the door – before turning to try and recollect himself. He grabbed his rifle and slung the holster over his shoulder, the gun hanging against his back.

  * * *

  As he reached the hall where the meeting was to take place, he could hear laughter. Hawk’s. He paused in the archway before entering, wanting briefly to observe those within. Hawk sat, relaxed, drinking wine and laughing at something Fen said. Fen smiled as Eli chuckled too. Ladon could see a small dot on his shoulder: the spider. They turned to him as he entered.

  “Bout time!” Hawk hollered. “Get over here. Before I’m drunk. Cernuin sounds like cake to kill.”

  He walked in, eyeing Hawk and scanning the others. Hawk didn’t give him much flak for not telling him about the gods – it helped to know his position and orders, but the man still hated Fen. Understandably so, Ladon decided. Yet it seemed he had resigned his doubts in the mission’s objective. Fen sipped on what looked like tea. Ladon took his seat.

  “I’d have liked to have been here when you disclosed the plan.”

  Fen shrugged. “You’re here in time. We were discussing Haven in general, and my first time here. Before the Fall.”

  Hawk pushed a glass of wine over to Ladon.

  “So here are the details.” Eli motioned him to look at the map littered with wine splashes, food crumbs, and markers where their army was and where the God of the Wildlands resided.

  Chapter Thirteen

  “Are they all there?” Fen asked, walking down the steps in haste, Ladon at his side. The general nodded. Fen shivered against the cold, but adrenaline and his magic kept the chill at bay. They crossed through an archway and into the courtyard where the army almost five thousand strong stood waiting for this announcement. It was an announcement he’d spent countless hours rehearsing to himself in baths, over tea with Ophelia, in his thoughts. His stomach tied into knots as he scanned the faces and made his way to the podium. Ladon and Hawk flanked him, their armor gleaming in the doleful sunlight. Despite the dread, it was an otherwise beautiful day.

  “Soldiers of Aklon!” Fen stood at the microphone, brow knitted. He fought to keep his thoughts away from the anxiety, the fear. Ophelia offered encouragement in his mind. “We have traveled through monsters and peril, and lost many along the way. We have shed blood and tears keeping this caravan of soldiers moving. And we made it. Here in Haven, we rest and fill our bellies with warm food and fine wine. Here, we are safe.

  “You were told in the beginning, we are fighting to find a way to end this plague of beasts and bring justice to the world lost.” He swallowed, pausing to look at their faces. They were interested; he had their undivided attention. “Here in Haven, I have found our best hope. I have spoken with Court-Mage Eli and King Thaleus; they have discovered the location of the god Cernuin, and are working for information on the others.”

  A gasp swept the ranks.

  “It is beyond clear to me that we must end the gods before they end us. They have torn families apart. They have murdered good people in their sleep. They kill by the thousands without a second thought. Now they must face the consequence. They are not immortal anymore. They are just as vulnerable to death as you and I. And thus, I ask that you stand with me and move westward, to the Marshes of Ollan, to find and kill Cernuin of the Wildlands!”

  He expected fear and shock and anger. He expected them to think less of him after the last battle.

  Instead, a fervor of applause and shouts returned – fists and unloaded rifles rising in praise.

  He raised his hand. “The gods will fall into their own grave, and we will finish this war. In times of old, we spoke of gods controlling our lives; everything for a reason – fate, destiny. These days we know better than ever, that we are the ones in control of our destiny. And we choose to stand! To face them – to rage!”

  They roared.

  Fen grinned and stepped back, breathless. He didn’t even feel the cold when his spell wavered, letting his hands drop at his sides. His eyes scanned the thousands. Five thousand strong. All cheering for him. His goal. Now, their goal.

  General Ladon smiled slightly, and Fen basked in the joy of his success. Hawk, though hesitant, clapped along with the cheers. Maybe this could work.

  * * *

  That feeling of joy and confidence had all but faded now. Fen shivered in his double-layered cloak, a gift from the Haven court-mage. He would use his magic, but the mage insisted he should save his reserves – and Ophelia agreed. Fen glanced up at the rotting old buildings they walked beneath. Much of the wastes between Haven and the forests were fallen sections of its own city. Buildings, shops, fueling stations and more lay overgrown, buried in ice and snow, abandoned. Every window shattered, every brick worn, every signage faded. He could see frozen advertisements, bitter reminders of a world that seemed so far away, like a fantasy now.

  “Gods, this is a ghost land,” he heard Hawk mutter. “Why haven’t we seen anything like this till now?”

  “There used to be farmlands between Aklon and Haven, so there wasn’t much of this to see. At least, not the way we went,” Ladon explained. “I expect to see a lot more of this if we go to Torrik at all.”

  Fen remembered the coastal city stretching on for miles and, unbidden, other memories rushed forward as well. He shook his head and glanced at a slanted streetlamp they passed.

  “How soon before we reach the marshes?” he asked, lips frozen.

  “A day, if we’re lucky. It isn’t too far.”

  So far they had been incredibly lucky. No battles, no incidents. Just them, the ghost city, and the freezing cold.

  As much as Fen enjoyed the reprieve, he couldn’t help but wonder if something was going to jump at them from every corner. Instead, all his ears could hear was the whistling wind.

  “Ophelia, can’t you hear or sense anything?” he whispered.

  No. What I can sense is so far away, it likely doesn’t even know you’re here.

  “An army this size...unnoticed?”

  The world is larger than that map makes you think. Avalanches fall with no one to witness. Yes, Fen, no one knows you’re here. Take every bit of luck you can. Once you’re in Cernuin’s territory, there is no telling if you’ll have any luck left to grasp.

  Fen wrinkled his nose at her flat tone and bleak words. Dismissing them, he glanced at Ladon, sensing the man’s eyes darting to him far more frequently now. What was with that? His gut knotted, recalling his moment of vulnerability, showing such emotion to a general of all things. The man should’ve been ashamed to have such a weak leader. Perhaps he was.

  You always think the worst of things, don’t you? Stop it, okay? I’m sick of your self-made drama.

  He frowned. “I’m not—”

  And use your inside voice for gods’ sake!

  Eyes darting aside, he fell silent and walked with the beat of the army. Soon, he lost his thoughts to it, even the captain and general’s voices drowning in the hum of his own mind. A shadow fell across them – so huge most men and women had to twist and look to check for enemies. Fen glanced up and found it to be a rotting old building, broken and threatening collapse. He shivered.

  The only ones here with us are ghosts.

  Yes. They stare at us as we walk, angry and confused.

  Fen tripped. What?

  I’m joking. Ghosts don’t exist.

  It didn’t seem so funny to him, but he pressed on, refocusing on the journey ahead. It was so easy to plot out what would happen on paper. With a map, markers, and theories between him, Eli, Ladon, and Hawk. But to be on foot and in motion, it was another matter entirely. Time passed slow, the buildup unnoticeable. The longer they spent walking, the farther away and more unrealistic he believed those plans to be.

  Stop brooding, child.

  I’m not a child. I’m just nervous.

  General Ladon believes in the plan, in your abilities. So calm down; it wi
ll work out.

  His eyes locked on a hollowed-out globe that may have been an accent to a study hall or education center in its day. Now a rotted shell of its former glory, a testament of how finite life was.

  * * *

  They moved on, the barren city merging into the frozen marshland. They turned south. After a day of traveling, the cold mud replaced snow, harsh gusts ripping at trees replacing ice. The evergreens seemed dead, though. Fen hadn’t seen much vegetation outside the gardens and greenhouses in the cities. Those outside were dead, dying. The evergreens’ bark was covered in black sap, the ground around them smelled rancid. Occasionally they’d hear the buzz of insects, but no beasts could be seen. No forest critter or the like.

  By nightfall, they reached a clearing. General Ladon dispatched a group of scouts as Fen went to a nearby tree. He placed his hand upon it, watching Ophelia crawl from his sleeve and up the bark. He stepped back, watching the spider ascend until he couldn’t see her anymore.

  What do you see?

  A tower, an old one. Looks like it belonged to a church, once.

  That’s the cathedral Eli mentioned. How far away does it look?

  A mile, maybe?

  They were incredibly close then. He swallowed, nerves tickling with anxiety again. He felt Ophelia’s presence closer as she climbed down. He reached back up for her to climb onto his hand and scale up to his shoulder.

  You have every right to be worried, but be strong, Fen. This is what you wanted.

  It is.

  He returned to camp, finding his tent and hurrying inside, seeking the warmth of his blankets. He pulled off the hood and tied shut the flap. Turning on his heel, hand twisting off the brooch to the cloak, he stopped in his tracks. Ladon sat near a corner, head bent over a book on his lap. The general didn’t seem to have readily noticed him. It was a book on the world before the Fall.

  “Going through my things now, are we?” Fen finished pulling off his cloak and set it on one of his bags. He rubbed the numbness from his hands as he walked across the tent to crouch next to him. He had half a mind to snatch the book away and scold him for going through his things.

  “Ophelia left it out for me.”

  He wasn’t even startled. Fen blinked, taken aback.

  “Did she? Why...wait.” He frowned. “When’d she talk to you?”

  “When you weren’t looking!” Ophelia huffed, growing in size and scurrying across the tent to ready the blanket pile. “Ladon wanted to know what the world before used to be like. I suggested one of your books.”

  He looked at her, betrayed. “They’re my things, Ophelia!”

  “I’ll put it away.” Ladon closed it.

  “No, you may read it but – it’s...nevermind.” His voice softened at him, resigning, and he glared at the chuckling spider.

  “Settle down, Fen, it’s just a book.”

  Fen looked back at the book and then the general. He noticed the veins greener and a tiredness behind the man’s eyes. “It’s been a while, hasn’t it?” He pushed himself to his feet and found his bag. Wrenching it open, he pulled out a vial and the applicator. “I’ve got one left. Ophelia, remind me to brew another set after tomorrow’s battle.”

  She chuckled, but didn’t respond.

  Ladon tensed when he returned. Fen read the hesitation. “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing.” He set aside the book and began unbuttoning his shirt. His armor probably sat in his own tent. Fen sat, watching, sensing the tension.

  “There isn’t another way, Ladon. I apologize if this bothers you.”

  “I know. It’s more than this, though. Go on, shoot me already. I feel like shit.”

  Fen pursed his lips and sighed through his nose, taking the arm with still-healing syringe wounds. He rubbed an area further down his arm and stuck the needle. Pushing the plunger, he watched the green liquid disappear into the man’s veins. Ladon winced and clenched his jaw, though the beard hid much of his reaction.

  “What else is going on?” Fen asked while administering it.

  “We face Cernuin tomorrow,” Ladon said quietly, tensely. He hung his head, expecting the drunk-like effects. “Likely, hundreds...maybe thousands of my soldiers will die.” Fen fell silent. “I can’t help but to think there must be some way to communicate with the gods. Get them to understand that we understand their strength. Why kill us to extinction? Not only us, but this whole damn planet? Do you know how long it could take for this world to stabilize? It will get much worse than this, even if we manage to kill the gods.”

  Fen looked down.

  “I know. It may be beyond our lifetime when the world fully recovers. But at least we are giving it the chance to.”

  “You can’t find another way though? You and Eli devised that killing them was the answer?” Ladon looked at him. Fen stared back, before narrowing his eyes. Suspicion aroused, he figured Ophelia had been talking more to him since learning their connection through his blood. Fen wasn’t blind to it, and she’d told him in glee after discovering it herself.

  “Don’t listen to Ophelia’s babble, she’s leading you on false hope.”

  “Or maybe you are? Maybe you’re too hellbent on whatever they fucked up for you, that you refuse to find an alternative?”

  Fen glared.

  “Get out of my tent, General Ladon.”

  Oh, going by title now, are we? Someone’s upset being called out.

  I’ll deal with you later!

  Shush. You just need hot chocolate and a blanket. Ladon’s right.

  Shut up!

  He stood with Ladon.

  “I like you, Fen. You’re bold. But you’re being stupid if you won’t even try to look into another way. The gods may be mortal, but they can do some godly things. Like make monsters. Disease. Curses. And just as easily as they make them – they can reverse them.”

  “Get. Out.” Fen pointed, eyes narrowed and cheeks flushed in anger.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Ladon growled and paced the perimeter of the camp. Fen’s indignant stubbornness pushed him. He’d donned his armor once he’d decided he couldn’t rest anymore and joined the night’s watch. The dull red metal glinted against the early dawn light, his ears tuned to the sounds of nature. Or rather, the lack thereof. He grimaced as he reached the end of a row and stared out beyond, in the direction they would, in just a couple hours, begin marching.

  How many would die? It was so easy for Fen to make these decisions without ever thinking of the soldiers enacting them. How many would pay the consequences?

  Regardless – what choice did they have?

  “General Ladon?”

  He paused and looked, Captain Hawk appearing. “Sir. I think...the soldiers need another pep talk. When we set out there, it...will be the end of the journey for many of us.”

  Ladon nodded; another reminder. “If Fen doesn’t, I will. Once the scouts return.”

  Hawk gave a nod. The two looked at each other, silence stretching between them. “Ladon, I need to tell ya, before we start all this.”

  “Tell me what?” Ladon scoffed, turning to look out. Hawk turned as well, folding his arms.

  “Fighting gods isn’t something we’ve ever done, and we can’t be idiots about it.” He shuffled his feet, kicking at a rock. “If ya make it, and I don’t, please bury me. Don’t burn me like the others.”

  “Why?”

  He shrugged. “Rotting sounds awful, but isn’t it...giving back to the world?”

  Ladon didn’t like how grim he was. “It hasn’t gifted you anything amazing.”

  “It gave me life, didn’t it? It sounds dumb, but I’m serious. Bury me. Nothing weird. Just lay me down in the dirt.”

  “You’re not gonna die, Hawk. You’re too important to the army. Who would drive Fen around?”

  Hawk made a disgusted look. “Fen needs to learn to be on his feet or get a bike.”

  “He’s a spell caster, not a damn soldier.”

  “Ladon.”

 
“Hawk,” Ladon pressed, sending him a look. “You’re a friend, one of the few I have left. It’s bad luck to talk like this right before the battle.” Hawk rolled his eyes and shifted his weight.

  “Yeah, maybe you’re right. But at any rate, what’s with Fen? Seems a bit better in spirits lately.”

  If by better spirits you mean unwilling to listen. Ladon shrugged. “He is.”

  “I’ve...also noticed you visit him quite a bit.”

  Ladon pursed his lips, stiffening. “Just consulting with him.”

  “Mhm, consulting. In private.” Hawk folded his arms. Ladon looked at him to argue, when a cry interrupted. The two looked ahead to see a flailing soldier, running desperately toward them. Unarmed, armor broken, eyes wide and blood splattering half her body.

  “They saw us!” she screamed as she reached them. Ladon caught her shoulders.

  “Who!”

  “Ashinari! Accursed!” The woman panted. Hawk stared, wide-eyed.

  “Shit.”

  “How many?” Ladon pressed.

  “Thousands – rivals our numbers – couldn’t estimate before we were attacked!” the scout wheezed between breaths. “I-I need a medic!”

  “You’ll get one – what happened to the others?” Ladon demanded. He glanced up to nod at Hawk to rush back and get a medic.

  “D-dead, sir. All dead!” the woman sobbed.

  He swallowed, growing cold. Hefting her up, he carried her to the stretcher, meeting the medics halfway. Hawk looked to him.

  “They know we’re here,” Ladon said. “No sense waiting. Order everyone to their feet and ready their weapons. We march now.”

  * * *

  In minutes, the army was mobilizing. Among the whir of noises and voices, Fen got to the rover and sat, waiting for Hawk to join. Ladon saw him, wearing the heavy cloak and examining his claw-ended fingers. The man seemed to sense his gaze and lifted his head. The two stared at each other from afar. Maybe Ladon hoped he’d change his mind. But the look Fen gave him told him enough.