The Elementalist : Next of Kin: The Kothian Chronicles

by Andrew Wood

  Ramon had not visited him in several days, something that the man had been doing at least two or three times a day before his unexplained absence. Despite the visits only being Ramon asking the same questions over and over, it was at least time not spent alone. His only other contact with the outside world was usually the guard that took him his meal; although it appeared, even he was not going to be turning up today.

  Shonna had spent the last few hours flying south and west in the first part of her latest task asked for by her king. Swooping low just a few feet above the waters of the great lake, she could already see her target ahead of her. As she moved in behind the enemy, she hoped to remain unnoticed, hoping their eyes were fixated on the Bosarians to their front, and not the skies behind. Shonna felt her heart beating faster as she climbed just a little for her attack; she would show them just what an Aclat could do. It was not those walking at the back of the enemy position she wanted, but those lining up against her fellow countrymen at the front. Willing her beast to fly as quickly as it could, she felt the cold wind rushing against her face as the beast coiled back its head.

  Ramon watched on once more after returning to the front of his defensive lines. Those lined up before him appeared in no hurry to attack, probably he thought doing so on purpose to delay him further. As soon as Darion and Maxim were ready, he would at last be able to go on the offensive, and push with great haste back to Pitford.

  He felt a sudden shudder run through his tired body, usually a sign or warning against something terrible happening. Turning his head quickly he dived for cover, shouting as a large flying beast soared just a short distance above. After hitting the ground hard, he looked up to see a terrible sight, as flames spewed forth from the flying creature. Those of his men caught in the fire were not as fortunate as he had been, as they flailed about aimlessly, before collapsing into a smouldering lump on the ground.

  Darion moved forward, teleporting the distance between the flames and the front lines in a blink of an eye. The screams of the dying filled the air as he caught sight of what had caused them, and immediately prepared his own reprisal. Whilst keeping a watchful eye on the beast now leaving the scene of destruction behind, he generated a ball of fire as quickly as he could in the palm of his hand. Trying to judge the flight path of the beast, he thrust his hand forward as hard as he could despatching the small ball of flame skyward. The Aclat was swift, but the fireball soared far quicker and Shonna was forced to veer to the left as the flame brushed just inches past her own head.

  Maxim and others emerged just as Darion had cast his spell, and without giving it a moment's thought the young elementalist teleported forward, leaving the others in his wake. By the time he had spotted the beast off in the far distance, he knew it had escaped beyond anything he could muster. Zack, Mikel and Melia covered the ground by more traditional means. Melia as the healer, darted off immediately to her left setting to work on the first of what at a glance appeared would be many casualties.

  Darion cursed several expletives, "When I get my hands on that bitch she is going to die a slow and painful death," he said from gritted teeth, before turning away from the others. Zack looked up to see nothing more now than a spec in the sky, and realised he had also seen the culprit before. "She is the one that took you Max," he added in a similar tone to that Darion had just used.

  Melia sighed, as the first person she checked was already dead. The young man could have only been a year or two older than herself, and had suffered horrendous burns to his upper body, that not even the most skilled healer would have been able to reverse. Trying not to dwell on whom she could not help, she quickly moved on to another, as she noticed several other healers running over from the inn to assist.

  Ramon dusted himself down as he walked over to where Maxim was stood. Before he could ask how the young elementalist was feeling, a shout came for them to take cover as the Bosarian soldiers facing them released a volley of arrows their way, looking to take advantage of the turmoil caused by the Aclat attacking. Maxim stayed stood still as the others around him all darted for cover, "Max!" Zack shouted loudly, realising his friend was not moving.

  The young elementalist raised a hand, as the wind around them picked up considerably. The arrows sailing their direction merely stopped and fell to the ground before reaching them. The enemy had had their moment of success, now Maxim was going to see Kothia had its own. Without waiting for the last of the arrows to fall to the ground, he kept the air he had been using and directed it with all his will toward the enemy lines. Despite trying to resist the cyclonic like gales smashing into them, the enemy line buckled, as men and shields were tossed up in the air.

  Ramon quickly decided to take advantage of the opportunity and called for those archers not caught up in the Aclat fire attack, to return their own volley of arrows. Without a magician of their own to stop them, and many now bereft of their shields, many of the arrows found a target. Darion, never one to miss the chance of a fight, stepped outside of the makeshift barricade and teleported forward, as Ramon urged his infantry on to follow suit.

  With the enemy much fewer in number, and clearly with no magicians any longer among them, the battle was a much more one sided affair. Still disorientated from the destructive blast sent forth by Maxim, the Kothian men soon overwhelmed their Bosarian counterparts. Many of the enemy had not even managed to get back to their feet before being mercilessly slain. Darion, already angered by the attack from the woman on the Aclat, wasted no time in flitting from one man to the next, ending each life without remorse or regret.

  Maxim stayed back, allowing the soldiers and Darion to finish the job. He had played his part, and although not quite sure how he had managed it, had shown his friends a significant change from the Maxim they had lost. This was something immediately picked up on by Ramon who looked at Maxim in a new light. The young, raw, elementalist that had been kidnapped away from them, was now a magician of even greater power. The other thing Ramon had already noticed was the control his young magician now had. On previous occasions it was common knowledge that Maxim often lost control, letting the magic take over, and it had usually taken Zack to calm him down.

  The seer knew he had no time to linger on his victory, and had to prepare as soon as possible to return to Pitford before it was too late. Healers would have to be left at Denley to deal with the multitude of victims suffering burns, and some soldiers would have to stay to ensure the town remained safe from any further attacks.

  Ramon turned to what he hoped would be the deciding factor in any battle, the young elementalist. He felt his heart sink as he noticed Maxim wobble just a little, knowing this was a classic sign of a magician being almost exhausted. He looked to the young royal beside him, who mouthed the words, "He needs rest." Ramon nodded, albeit reluctantly, hoping deep down by the time they returned to Pitford, Maxim may yet have recovered some small amount of his energy.

  Chapter 8.

  The ship carrying the dark crimson robed figures, continued at speed through the violent waters of the ocean. Each giant wave merely moving aside for the craft to continue onwards, as it moved unnaturally quickly covering distances normal ships would take days to make. The swirling winds that would cause other sailing ships to rock and sway, appeared almost non-existent as it progressed unhindered by the elements.

  In Pitford, Kurtis sat wondering why his breakfast had not arrived and had decided to ask the guard outside his room. He tapped on the door, before opening it and poking his head out into the corridor. He pulled a face, a look of puzzlement and confusion, as he noticed there was no one to be seen. The thought of breaking his promise to Ramon crossed his mind, and knowing the trouble he was already in, he was weary of stepping any further. However, something told him that things were not right, not only were there no guards, but he could not see anybody at all. There were always people wandering about the corridors that time of the morning he thought.

  He made his mind up just to venture a short way out of his room,
"Hello," he shouted, standing still awaiting for a response. As no reply came he decided to go just a few steps further from his room, "Hello," he repeated again. Once more, no reply came; with his trepidation growing that something was not right, the concerns he had, that he was breaking his promise about not leaving his room lessened. He walked the length of the short corridor that gave access to the room that had been his prison, since the incident concerning Maxim.

  After making two more turns, he found himself on one of the main corridors, and at last he saw a few others hurrying, all carrying bundles in their arms. "Hey...Where is everyone?" he shouted, picking up his pace just a little to catch them up. A young boy he did not know turned to face him, "Where have you been hiding...Magicians, soldiers and those able to fight are out on the walls...the women and children are gathering in the main hall..." Kurtis did not wait for the boy to finish what he was saying. Instead, he ran hard, almost knocking into a woman and baby as he passed into the main foyer.

  After apologising to the woman, he continued onwards at a walking pace, half-expecting to be grabbed at any moment for leaving his confinement. As he stepped out of the main doors, he was greeted by a scene of pandemonium. People were being ushered in to the keep yard from outside the inner wall and being lined up. He wandered forward without any particular purpose, glancing left and right looking for a familiar face to ask what was going on.

  He froze as he felt a hand upon his shoulder, and turned his head slowly knowing he was in trouble for sure. The person behind him was much smaller than he had expected, but as he looked down at the aged face peering back at him, he grimaced. "I'm in trouble again aren't I?" he uttered letting his shoulders drop. "I would suggest you go get yourself something warmer to wear. I think a young man with your particular talents is needed more than most," came the unexpected reply. "Go on Kurtis, quickly...I'll wait here for you," Katria added giving the larger youth a little shove back towards the doorway.

  Kurtis did not hang around, and after thanking Katria, he darted back inside, returning within just a couple of minutes donning a black cloak. "Come with me," Katria asked him, as she headed off far more quickly than he had thought possible for a woman of her years. As he followed, she led him through the gateway of the inner wall into the outer section. Aside from those queuing to get inside the inner gateway, the outer section was devoid of the usual people seen about at that time of day. There were no street traders, nor were there any shops open, then again, he supposed there were no customers either.

  Katria paused at the bottom of the steps that led up on to the top of large outer wall. Kurtis could already see far more people than usual moving around up there, and had already deduced Pitford was under attack. Katria placed a hand on his chest, firstly affirming those very thoughts, before explaining the situation as it stood. Kurtis nodded just slightly as she explained Ramon leaving to fight at Denley, taking not only a large proportion of the army, but also many of the more senior magicians. Katria looked up at the young man, "I know what you have done Kurtis, perhaps it is time for you to show your true colours," she added tilting her head just a little. Kurtis did not reply other than a slight nod of his head, before Katria gestured they continue up the steps. He was about to ask if she needed a hand to climb them, but realised she climbed them well enough without his aid.

  As the last step was climbed, Kurtis glanced around him. Firstly at his fellow countrymen beside him, old men and boys stood side by side what few soldiers still remained, and here and there a small black cloaked figure of a young magician. He then looked outwards, beyond the safety the wall gave them. He gasped as he watched hundreds, maybe thousands, he thought, of fur-clad warriors from the mountains. Here and there positioned among them were huge creatures he had never seen before. "There are called Caruc," Katria told him, judging the question he was going to ask. "Capable of smashing through almost anything," she added telling him what they could do. "Even walls?" he asked glancing down at her. She simply nodded, "Yes Kurtis, even walls if allowed to amass together."

  Kurtis listened further as the old lady told him what he could see was not all of it. Surrounding the northern part of Pitford were several hundred Bosarian soldiers, "With magicians of their own," she added, saying it in a way that made it the key point of the matter. Kurtis puffed out his cheeks, exhaling, taking along look at the enemy before him, before glancing once more at those left to defend against them. "We do not stand a chance," he said as much to himself as Katria, "We can have no hope of surviving such a force," he added before she placed her small bony hand up onto his cheek.

  Kurtis silenced as Katria smiled up at him. Her hand surprisingly warm on his cold skin, "There is always hope Kurtis. Look about you. We have boys who have probably never wielded a sword, let alone fight with one. Yet they stand here, willing to fight and die if needed for what they believe in." Kurtis nodded, noticing a youngster probably no more than thirteen or fourteen years old nervously clutching a spear in his hands.

  Kurtis wondered, exactly what it was they believed in that was worth dying for. Once more Katria answered his question without it actually being asked. "They fight for their freedom Kurtis, as will I. Is a life as a prisoner and slave any life at all," she asked looking up in to his young eyes. He knew only too well, what it felt like to be a prisoner, albeit he had been one only a short while. However even in that short time, the loss of freedom, the solitude and restrictions imposed had become almost unbearable.

  Kurtis would have been first to admit that when it came to intelligent thought, he was not the smartest guy around. Yet he was no so dumb as to understand the message Katria was getting across to him. These people around him were going to fight, not just for a chance for their own freedom, but for those children in the keep, that mother and babe he had seen on the foyer and even for those not yet affected by the growing conflict. Noticing the penny had dropped, Katria patted his arm, "Today Kurtis you have a chance to redeem yourself. You are probably as power a magician as we have left in Pitford at the moment. Will you stand with us and fight, or do you wish I have you escorted back to your room and await the inevitable?"

  Taking a deep breath Kurtis stepped forward, closer to the edge of the wall standing defiantly at the hordes that were lining up ready to attack. Katria smiled, before looking to the east to see if she could see any sign of Ramon and his army returning, but could not. She closed her eyes a moment, sending out a message, a request, to one of her birds. The small creature soared up from somewhere in the keep garden and headed eastward to Denley. The images sent back would likely be the most important she would ever receive; for now she needed to wait and prepare for the inevitable.

  In Waltham, capital city of Bosaria, Gorius paced around his desk occasionally drinking from the glass he held half full in his hand. The war with Kothia was hung in the balance, and quite likely, the next twenty-four hours would determine the outcome. His forces pushed ever forward, and were now within a day's ride of the Kothian capital Berxsley, a battle he was sure they could win. Despite that normally being a conquering army's main goal in defeating a country, he knew it was not the case for him. However, the battle that held the most importance was already taking place in the south of Kothia, the outcome of which could see him victorious. Here his forces of soldiers and magicians, aided by their allies from across the mountains, had the chance to eliminate the last enemy forces capable of stopping him.

  With plans already in place for taking the other smaller nations that shared his borders, this one single victory would allow them to be put into action. Although he knew he had the greater numbers, he was also painfully aware Kothia had several powerful magicians that could cause him severe problems. The outcome of the battle, and possibly the entire war would depend on whether his superior numbers could overcome them.

  Chapter 9.

  A series of loud horn blasts sounded from the warriors of the Mountain tribes, which were soon answered by their Bosarian allies gathered to the south of Pitford. Th
is was their predefined signal to let the other know they were in position and ready to begin their attack.

  Kurtis stood amongst his compatriots watching on as the tidal wave of warriors and beasts swept down the sloping hillside to their position, picking up the pace as they went. He felt his heart pounding like a hammer in his chest, and wondered if everyone else was as nervous as he felt at that moment. To his left he caught sight of several archers pulling the strings on their bows back, ready to fire as soon as the enemy got within range, and he thought he should probably do likewise. His weapon however, was magical not physical, as he held his palm out just slightly letting an orb of energy manifest within it.

  He let the power grow a little larger than he normally would, waiting until the very last moment before firing it. He heard those archers beside him fire and watched as a few of their arrows fell short of the front ranks of the enemy. Rather than pick an individual target he picked an area behind the enemy's front line, and when he thought them close enough, he thrust his arm forward as hard as he could.