The Wind and the Void

by Ryan Kirk

  Sen sipped at his own tea, finally standing and pacing the room. Akira sat still, allowing the older lord the opportunity to decide on his best course of action. Sen was a strong ruler, and no words from Akira would sway his decision one way or the other.

  Sen stopped and stared at Akira, as though it were some sort of trap. “Would you insist on being second in line to the throne?”

  Akira shook his head. “The decision would be entirely yours. I would be honored to serve, but you can use me in whatever capacity you think best. You are well-loved across the kingdoms, and my people will follow you without question.”

  Sen continued his pacing. He spoke, and Akira was surprised, as it almost seemed as though he was thinking aloud. “You surprise me, Lord Akira. After the Conclave, I was convinced you were a man driven by pride. Your actions were desperate, and you didn’t give up your land then, even though it would have reunited the kingdom.”

  Akira frowned, speaking before he realized he might offend the older lord. “You and Tanak were coordinated against me. I am proud of my kingdom, and I couldn’t bear to lose it to such political conniving.”

  The older lord chortled to himself. “You believe Tanak and I were allies? That I knew and supported his campaign through my actions? That explains much.”

  “What do you mean?” Akira couldn’t hide his confusion.

  “I can see where you might have thought that. But this is the truth: I never coordinated with Tanak any more than I coordinated with you. I was willing to give up my kingdom because I desperately want to see the land reunited once again, even if it meant allowing Tanak to become our first king.”

  The whole world shifted for Akira, and in one moment he realized just how wrong he had been. He ran through the entire Conclave in his mind again, seeing it with a new perspective. He had underestimated Sen, terribly.

  Akira bowed his head to the floor. “Forgive me, Lord Sen. I have been a fool.”

  Sen laughed, and Akira looked up. “If only we could have had this conversation several moons ago. We’d live in a very different world. Well, there’s no point dwelling on the past. What would you say if I suggested we merge our kingdoms today?”

  Akira was glad to already be sitting. It was the last thing he had expected Sen to say.

  Sen continued. “Furthermore, I would take you up on your offer to relinquish your status. I would ask that you not be anywhere in line for the throne. Already, one lord has died with you underneath him. I would be foolish to become the second.”

  Akira didn’t rush to speak. He had come for troops, but if there was a chance to reunify the kingdoms once and for all, wasn’t that an even better solution? He breathed in deeply and replied with a question. “Would you defend the pass with all your strength?”

  Sen nodded. “I believe your reports about the Azarians. My own shadows have echoed your concerns.”

  Now it was Akira’s turn to stand and pace. He hadn’t expected a gesture so grand. To be reunified, just when it was most needed, was the exact step they needed to take if they were to have a chance against the Azarians. He would be a fool to refuse the offer.

  It would be hard to give up his authority, but he trusted Sen. Sen led his kingdom well, and his people were happy and prosperous, an even more incredible feat considering the difficult terrain they carved their lives out of. Handing over the Southern Kingdom was the right action to take. Sen deserved to be the kingdom’s first king.

  Akira nodded. “I accept your offer. It is very generous of you, and I believe you would make an excellent king.”

  Sen studied him again, and Akira felt like Sen could see right through him. Could it really be this easy? The Three Kingdoms had existed for over a thousand cycles, and now they may unify in less time than it took to drink two cups of tea.

  Sen spoke. “Lord Akira, this is my suggestion. I have lived for many cycles, and I want to see our kingdoms unified. I was hurt this summer when the Conclave failed, but I believe you have the best interests of the land at heart. I will cede the Northern Kingdom to your care, and you shall become king of the Kingdom, reformed once again. War is a task for the young, and I wish to prepare my people for the imminent invasion. I will act as first in line to the throne, but my land and my troops are yours.”

  Words couldn’t express Akira’s emotions. Joy, pride, gratitude and hope all surged through his heart at the same time. He never could have anticipated the conversation taking the turn it had. He bowed to Sen, all the way to the floor. “I do not know what to say.”

  Sen smiled. “Sometimes it is best not to say anything at all.”

  Suddenly Akira was a child again, looking up to Sen and marveling at his wisdom. The man who was a lord fell away, and Akira faced Sen as he was. “Sen, I’m scared for our land. Even together, I’m not sure we can stand against the Azarians.”

  Sen nodded. “I am too, but we’ll fight them together.”

  They sat and talked until the sun was high in the sky. There was much to accomplish, but they set out the basic terms of the treaty that would unify their lands. Both were willing to compromise, so the treaty was easy to form. The sun was setting when they finally finished. With another tremendous bow of gratitude, Akira left the tea house, eager to begin the return journey. He had entered the valley a lord, but he left it a king, the first the land had seen in over a thousand cycles.

  Chapter 7

  The cold wind blew down from the pass, but Nameless didn’t care. He was demon-kind, and weather had no meaning to him. He was separate, above such small concerns as wind or rain. But his people kept to their shelters. It was not often so cold further south in Azaria, but despite their discomfort Nameless didn’t dare allow the clans to spread too far from the pass. Their alliance was fragile as it was, continuing to exist only due to great need. The winter had barely begun and already food was an issue. They had found a little in the fort, and his demon-kind were scouring the mountains for game, but it would be a hard winter. It would destroy the weak.

  Nameless did not believe in anything greater than himself. He held to no god and no belief system. There was only his own strength and skill. He stifled the urge to pray for the pass to open as soon as possible. He didn’t know how much longer he could keep the People looking forward. Even his own demon-kind were having trouble following the narrow game trails which led to the Southern Kingdom. If the winter season continued its ferocity, he’d soon be completely shut off from news of the Three Kingdoms.

  Today, however, Nameless was grateful for the wind and the snow. He wandered far afield of the collection of clans, allowing his abilities to guide him. He could feel the old man, a beacon in these desolate plains. Those of the clans wouldn’t give him a second look, but his presence was as bright as the sun to Nameless and his gift.

  He came upon the old man when the sun was high in the sky. The old man certainly knew Nameless was present, but made no move to recognize him. Nameless knew the old man’s mind was wandering far and wide, seeing events far beyond the sight of a normal human. It was a useful skill, but one Nameless did not understand. It would be far too much to say that Nameless was scared of the old man, but being in the presence of such an unknown caused him discomfort.

  The head of the Azarians sat down and waited patiently. He didn’t know if the old man was actually focused elsewhere or if he just enjoyed making Nameless wait. For most, such an idea would be unthinkable, but the old man didn’t fear Nameless. He knew he was too useful to be killed. Nameless wasn’t a man known for his patience, but this old man was the only one alive who possessed the skill of far-seeing, and Nameless required him. Whether the old man was teasing him or not, he had to bear it for a while longer yet. The moment the Three Kingdoms were conquered, Nameless would end the old man and rejoice in his death.

  When the old man opened his eyes, Nameless was ready. “What news, old man?”

  “There is much happening to the north.”

  “I know that. I would hear of it.”

>   Nameless’ companion sighed, as if he wearied of such a rush.

  “The young man, the one who strikes as fast as the wind, wanders back to the place he called home once before. But there is something different about him now. He is silent, and if I were to guess, I would say he has lost his gift.”

  The news startled Nameless. He did not know the lore of the nightblades in the north, but no demon-kind in his memory had ever lost the gift. He didn’t think such a thing was possible.

  The old man chuckled softly to himself. “It is not unheard of. You should spend more time studying and less time conquering. There is much to learn.”

  Nameless almost drew his blade then. Skill or no skill, he wouldn’t tolerate such disrespect from anyone. But the old man was too useful, and he knew it. Nameless wondered if the seer had a death wish.

  “You’ll be pleased to learn two of the demon-kind have found him. They are on his trail now. I expect they believe he will lead them to the young woman who cut you.”

  “And what of her?” Nameless could barely control his anger at the thought of her. She would die at his hands. That was a promise he had made to himself.

  “She is the void. I cannot feel her from here. I’m not sure I could if she was right next to me. But two more demon-kind have fallen, only a few days from the place the two of them used to live. I suspect it was her.”

  “How can you know?”

  The old man shrugged. “There’s nothing else that can kill us without me noticing it.”

  Nameless stood and paced, although his pacing was more akin to a light jog for most people. In his larger plan, the loss of two demon-kind was but a drop of water in a sea, but each one was valuable to him. Each one had a gift that should not be wasted. Never before had the demon-kind fallen as prey to others. If word were to get out, the fragile truce that held between the clans would melt like fat in a frying pan. The nightblades had to die.

  Nameless turned and left the old man without a word. There was much more he needed to learn, but everything else could wait. He needed to meet with the other demon-kind and decide what must be done about the nightblades.

  The far-seer watched the leader of all the clans rush off in a hurry. He shook his head, fearing for the fate of the People under such a fiery leader.

  “You’re welcome,” he whispered softly to Nameless’ retreating back.

  It was evening when the council gathered. There were days when Nameless would have preferred to go without, but the trappings of tradition were strong. The People had never had a government, not like the sheep who lived in the Three Kingdoms. For as long as their stories went back, the People had always been a collection of clans. The closest they got to government was the Gathering, their once-a-cycle celebration.

  The demon-kind were different, though. They were a clan without a clan. They took no names and served wherever they were needed. Each had been born into a clan, but now their only loyalty lay to each other and the People as a whole.

  Long ago it had been decided the demon-kind needed control. Each of them was strong, and taken together, their strength was enough to shape the course of legends. That power had to be harnessed, and it had been decreed that no single person could decide the path of the demon-kind. And so the council of demon-kind had been born. When Nameless had decided to rise to power to save the People, his first task had been to convince the council his plan was necessary and right. If he had failed, he would have been killed by the demon-kind. He was strong, but not strong enough to stand against the combined strength of his brethren.

  So even though he was the leader of all the clans, when it came to matters involving the demon-kind, he still had to approach the council and ask permission. If he lost the council, he lost the People. They would scatter to the four winds, declining in strength and numbers until they disappeared completely. No more stories would be told.

  Nameless considered his words carefully. What he was about to propose was unheard of. When he looked at everything happening, it seemed a small and easy decision to make, but it was without precedent, and he knew his decision would be contested. He held the majority of votes in the council, but it was a slim margin, and there were several who would abandon him if they felt he was losing his strength.

  Before he spoke he looked around the fire to see who had come. Many who he considered friends were gathered there, but they were almost matched by those who disagreed with him. They all had the best interests of the People at heart. They just had different ways of thinking about their problems. There still weren’t enough people who saw the danger the People were in. Today the lack of game and food seemed like a temporary problem, but Nameless had ridden far and wide, and he knew there weren’t enough animals left in the land to continue to feed their growing numbers. They needed a new land, a richer land. They needed the Three Kingdoms.

  “Greetings, friends. I’ve called you here today because I have need of your strength. The two nightblades in the Three Kingdoms continue to be a thorn in our side. They bring hope to the land, strengthening it prior to our invasion.”

  Nameless knew the last part was his own fiction, but he had to convince the council their actions today would save the lives of the People come spring. He didn’t believe the two nightblades could have that much of an influence on events, but they had to be eliminated. He had underestimated them too often. It wouldn’t happen again.

  “I propose we send four pairs into the Three Kingdoms to eliminate the nightblades once and for all.”

  The demon-kind were not known for dramatic expression, but Nameless took note of every raised eyebrow. There were many around the fire, even among those he considered allies.

  One of the eldest demon-kind was the first to speak. Nameless respected his opinion. “Four pairs have never been sent on a single task before.”

  Nameless nodded. “I know how much I ask. But we sent two pairs against just one of them, and they never returned. It is more than we’ve ever sent, but the danger is greater than we’ve ever faced. The only way to ensure our success is to send more than we ever have before.”

  One of the younger members of the council spat into the fire. “It is disgraceful to send so many. Send one pair who knows which part of their sword to hold and we will be done with this foolish game.”

  Nameless eyed the youth warily. The young had never seen true hardship, not yet. Because of this, they felt they were invincible. They were a danger to his cause. If he reminded the youth that several demon-kind had already died at the hands of the nightblades, the youth would tell him the old men were getting weak and insist a pair of his generation be sent. Nameless considered the possibility. If these nightblades were as good as he thought they were, they would destroy a younger pair without a thought. The idea was tempting, if only to teach a lesson. But every demon-kind was precious, and he wouldn’t waste them to teach others a lesson. He couldn’t bring himself to be that petty. He kept his silence.

  Several voices added their opinion to that of the youth. Nameless kept track of each, noting who was for the idea and who was against, and the reasons they gave. There was little duplicity in the council, and almost all spoke the truth of their opinions. There were some who supported Nameless in his plan, but many were against. Some were opposed because of the slight against their reputation. Others worried they were sending more and more demon-kind to their deaths. Time was a piece of the decision as well. The game trails were becoming more dangerous, and even seasoned mountain explorers were having difficulty making the trek from Azaria to the Three Kingdoms and back. Soon the mountains would be impassable.

  Nameless made his last attempt. “I respect the wisdom and the voices that have spoken tonight. The problem in front of us is small, but we mustn’t forget how it relates to the larger effort. The People must take the northern lands once the pass is open. Much more than our pride is at stake. The nightblades must be killed. We think of the deaths of our kind, as we should. But our lives and deaths mean little when we loo
k at everything happening. The nightblades aren’t dangerous because they kill us. They are dangerous because they inspire hope. Their very existence screams that we can be defeated. But if we break them, we are that much closer to breaking the Three Kingdoms.”

  One of the elders spoke. He hadn’t added his voice to the discussion yet, but his quiet voice carried an air of command. Even Nameless was attentive. “If you believe these nightblades are the threat you make them out to be, I am inclined to believe you. We know they have already killed too many of us. Four pairs is unheard of, but perhaps necessary. But you rush when no hurry is needed. Already twenty pairs cover the northern land, and the nightblades can’t physically track them all down in the winter season. Fear will still spread, but give the trails time to open, then strike first in the spring. Allow our invasion to begin with the death of these heroes.”

  Nameless considered the old man’s advice. In his heart, he wanted the nightblades dead, but he recognized his hatred for them was personal. They endangered the mission he had set before his people. Their lives were an insult to his, especially the woman’s. He would have her head. That was a promise he intended to keep. But the advice was well-said. Sending pairs now risked their lives needlessly in the crossing. Besides, from the reactions he was getting from the council, they wouldn’t approve sending pairs now. It was a compromise that pained him, but perhaps it was necessary.

  Nameless nodded his agreement, and the decision was quickly made. In the spring four pairs would be sent to herald the invasion of the People. The nightblades would die, and the Three Kingdoms would fall.