The Obsidian Arrow

by Craig A. Price Jr.

  A shooting star soared in front of the moon, causing Starlyn to smile. Her mother had told her whenever she saw a shooting star to make a wish. Starlyn gulped and wished everything would work itself out and hoped she would make it. With her arms wrapped around her legs, she closed her eyes and leaned her head back, enjoying her peace of mind. She felt the comfort of a warm furry blanket rub against her face, followed by a rough wet texture across her cheek.

  Her eyes opened to see Snowflake’s tongue about to lick her other cheek. She laughed and collapsed to the ground, rolling around, trying to hide from her friend’s tongue. Her efforts were fruitless as Snowflake dropped her paw on Starlyn’s abdomen and trapped her for a rough lick on her opposite cheek. Starlyn giggled, pried herself free of the tiger’s paw, and massaged the tiger’s neck. Snowflake cocked her head to the side and relaxed at Starlyn’s gentle touch.

  Charlotte walked over, a half smile making her cheeks swell, showing off her freckles. She stood as tall as Starlyn on her knees and looked at her at eye level. Starlyn smiled at the young girl.

  “I’m glad you’re feeling better.” Charlotte grinned.

  “Snowflake always knows how to bring out my happiness. I feel better, but I’m still weak,” Starlyn said.

  “How much longer do we have?” Charlotte asked.

  “Our journey is a long one, young one. It is going to take us some time.” Starlyn frowned.

  Charlotte stepped closer to Starlyn, a yawn escaping her mouth as she gave Starlyn a hug. Starlyn felt surprised at first, but soon Charlotte’s head rested on her shoulder, and she knew the girl must be tired. It must have been hard for the young girl to travel nonstop. Starlyn heard Snowflake curl into a ball behind her. She leaned back, laying her head on the tiger’s soft fur. Starlyn stroked Charlotte’s hair as she sang a kheshlar song she remembered from her mother.

  “The stars are out and shine so bright;

  To protect you from the restless night

  Listen to the sounds at night, listen to the howls;

  Do not worry my dear, those only be owls.

  They bring peace as they watch over you.

  All around you the plants grow true,

  To envelop you with love and protection.

  Rest my child ever so,

  For there is nothing to fear with me so near.

  Every animal is full of peace and love,

  Do not fear, do not doubt,

  There will be no trouble

  As long as the animals are out.

  Rest my child ever so,

  Do not worry, you are safe.

  The stars shine bright tonight,

  And they are watching over you.”

  Chapter 13

  Searon stirred on the ground, feeling weak, while a haze clouded his mind. He wasn’t sure what had happened, but he had a feeling it wasn’t good. When he turned his head, his vision began to focus. He saw Anaela lying on the ground next to him, her head turned the other way. He spun, crawled close to her, and rolled her over. Her eyes were closed and her hair covered most of her face. Searon gently wiped her hair away and studied her, savoring her beauty. He put his middle and index finger beneath her jaw and felt for a pulse. Her pulse was slow, but she was alive.

  “Anaela …” Searon whispered.

  She didn’t budge. He shook her shoulder, but she still didn’t move. Memories flooded back, and he remembered Arria attacking them. He had to go find Arria before it was too late. He vigorously shook Anaela, but it was to no avail. Mesmerized, he hovered over her, staring at her beauty and lacing her soft brunette hair in his fingers. Closing his eyes, he leaned in and gently grazed her lips with his before shaking out of it and standing.

  He lifted her and made sure her sword was attached at her sash before lifting her onto his shoulders. The weight was nothing compared to toting a human around. She weighed a great deal less than Andron. Even though he still felt weak, he had enough strength to continue on.

  The terrain was rough on the way back, even more so than he remembered. Searon hoped he traveled the correct way. He looked to Anaela, who was still passed out. Sighing, he glanced around his surroundings and noticed a few birds flying away as if something had scared them. He decided to head in the direct they flew from.

  The forest had an eerie stillness to it, and what was once a very lively forest full of critters and animals was empty. More animals appeared and scurried in the opposite direction he traveled, making him feel uneasy. There was definitely something bad happening, and the animals knew it. Even the plants appeared different, appearing wilted instead of sprouting and full of life.

  Finally, after what felt like endless sprinting, he rushed into Sudegam and glanced around. Everything seemed too quiet, and he didn’t know where to search. The faces of the kheshlars in the streets appeared gloomy and confused. The plants in the city were wilted like the ones in the forest.

  Searon quietly ambled deeper into Sudegam, pondering where to go. The complete silence disturbed him. He expected to hear distress somewhere to know where he should be, but there was nothing. Even the sparring field remained quiet, which didn’t make any sense because he could see a few kheshlars sparring. Perhaps the quietness was just him, and only he couldn’t hear anything.

  A tall male kheshlar stood in front of him, his lips moving, but Searon could hear nothing. The expression on the kheshlar’s face appeared blank, yet he seemed tired, as if the life drained out of him as well. Searon shook his head, trying to clear his mind and hear what the kheshlar was saying.

  “What were you saying?” Searon asked, glancing back to the man.

  “I asked you if anything is wrong.”

  “Yes … yes something is … but I don’t know what,” Searon replied.

  “Do you need help?”

  “Help?” Searon asked.

  “With her. What happened?” The kheshlar brushed his long blond hair behind his ear.

  “No, I won’t leave her. We were—” Searon was interrupted by the sigh of birds escaping from the palace into the sky.

  Without looking back to the male kheshlar, he dashed off toward the eternal tree in the center of the city.

  Chapter 14

  Arria smirked. “It has been too long, my lord.”

  “So … you have come back?” Elsargast said.

  “I have come to finish what I have started.”

  “What then? After you bring chaos to everyone … what will you do then?” Elsargast asked.

  “Enjoy life,” Arria said.

  “Your sister won’t join you,” Elsargast said.

  “You know nothing of what my sister will do!” Arria screamed. “Speaking of dear sister … where is she?”

  “She’s gone,” Elsargast said.

  “Where has she gone?” Arria asked.

  “Even I do not know that.”

  Arria took a step closer, feeling her flamberge with her right palm. The king sat on his throne, looking down at her, clearly not threatened by her presence. His long black hair was tied behind his head and resting under a golden crown full of rubies. His face was aged, yet there weren’t any wrinkles. He wore a green-and-purple robe made of silk. He did not look like the young, brave king who was displayed as statues around the city. A necklace with a large sparkling ruby entwined in gold draped to his chest. His green eyes appeared honest, and she decided to accept that he truly didn’t know where her sister had gone.

  “Do you know why I’m here?” Arria sashayed toward him, her hips swaying as she moved up the golden steps.

  “Yes, I do,” Elsargast said.

  “Then let’s get it over with, shall we?” Arria demanded, unsheathing her flamberge and holding it steadily in front of her.

  “Why do you hate us so much?” Elsargast asked, rising from his throne.

  She smiled and dropped her flamberge from an offensive position. She’d hoped he would ask. There was so much she couldn’t stand about the kheshlars; she didn’t know where to begin.

&nb
sp; “It’s not them I hate … it’s you,” Arria admitted. “You are the one who puts foolish regulations on the kheshlars. We may not love outside of our kind. We cannot have children, except during the dawn of the century. We aren’t allowed to leave our land. You treat us like children, and we can only do what you think is right. And you refused to help Mother, you decided to let her die.”

  “It is the way it has always been. It is for everyone’s protection,” Elsargast said.

  “Protection? What is a life without chaos?” Arria asked, raising her flamberge once more.

  Without hesitation, the king was off his throne, sword already in hand, slashing at Arria. Surprised, she hardly had time to block his attack, and nearly stumbled from the stairs. In the last moment, she caught her balance, only slipping from one step as she repositioned herself for defense. Elsargast fought with incredible speed, strikes slamming against her flamberge so fast she was unable to reposition herself. Arria grew worried because Elsargast had the higher ground, and she had a hard time fending off his attacks. She realized she couldn’t hold him for long and searched for a way down the stairs.

  Elsargast noticed her glance, flipped through the air, and landed behind her. He slashed at her legs, causing her to tumble down the stairs. Injured, she looked to him with curiosity in her eyes. He grinned as he moseyed down the stairs, spinning the hilt in his hands. The bastard sword was beautiful. It wasn’t pure steel as most swords, but a mix of titanium, steel, iron, and gold, which made the shade a light gold in hue. Its hilt was embedded with kheshlarn words, and it had a leather wrap, making it comfortable for the king’s grip.

  Arria stood and quickly backed away, her gaze never leaving the king’s. The strength and resilience the king showed shocked her. She had battled him once before and lost, but it was long ago and she was stronger now. She’d imagined he would be old and useless by now. It was a mistake she hoped to never make again. She held her flamberge tight in her hand as she awaited him. He stopped when he reached the last step, and his smile grew before he leaped through the air, spinning all the while, until he landed behind her and slashed at her back. She turned around in time to block most of the strike, but the strength of the blow tossed her flamberge across the ground. The titanium echoed through the room.

  Elsargast stepped in front of her and backhanded her across the face, creating a gash in her lip. Blood trickled along her jaw. She dashed for her flamberge, only to be tripped by the tip of his weapon as he swung it. Rolling across the floor, she reached out, almost touching the hilt of her black-and-purple gemmed flamberge. Elsargast stomped on her right hand before she could reach it, breaking the bones in her fingers. The sound of their crunch unnerved her more than the actual break, and she cried out in pain.

  “Have you learned nothing?” Elsargast sighed.

  “This isn’t possible,” Arria muttered.

  “Do you think I am weak because I am over seven thousand years old?” Elsargast asked.

  “Seven thousand …” Arria whispered.

  “Yes … I am one of the first. The rumors passed to the humans about us migrating here from other lands are false. They migrated to the other lands from here. This is where it all began, and we have kept hidden from the humans for five thousand years. I remember when they first arrived and tainted this land.”

  “You’ve kept us all in the dark …”

  “Do not think that one person can change things … the dark magic that has taken over you has made you foolish. It has made you weak, you only think you are stronger.” Elsargast grinned.

  Rage built inside of her as she realized everything she’d ever speculated was true. Elsargast really did keep the kheshlars in the shadows. The sooner she could rid the kheshlars of their king, the sooner some might join her. A twisted, sinister smile came across her lips for only a second before she winced in pain again as Elsargast twisted his foot. His sword lowered so it was a hairsbreadth from her throat.

  “Goodbye, Arria,” Elsargast said.

  She grabbed a dagger from her sash with her free hand and blocked his sword from her throat. Without a moment to spare, she slammed the dagger into Elsargast’s right leg, causing him to tumble backward. With her left hand, she grabbed the hilt of her flamberge and stood. Her right hand fell useless at her side.

  Elsargast considered Arria, raised an eyebrow, pulled the dagger from his leg, and tossed it to the side. “Impressive.”

  Without a moment for Arria to breathe, Elsargast was upon her, delivering quick strikes to her left, right, and overhead. Her sword proved too heavy to properly use with one hand, but she managed to sloppily block each strike. She backed away, letting the tip of her flamberge drag against the white marble floors.

  She held her defensive position strong, keeping him from jumping over her again. It seemed the king was finally running out of new tricks, but Arria was still cautious. She’d fought impressive fighters before, but Elsargast was definitely top of her list. There wasn’t even a drop of sweat on the king’s face, and while it was true that kheshlars did not sweat like men, she still had several drops sliding along her face. Arria needed a new plan, and she needed it quick. She couldn’t take much more of Elsargast’s attacks. She wondered if Zergiel had expected this, and willingly sent her to her doom. One way or another, he was going to pay for giving her such a task. Even if she had to haunt him in her death, she would. She had died once, and she wasn’t afraid to do it again.

  She ducked just as the king struck, and the sword passed above her harmlessly. She slashed her flamberge at his legs, but he jumped in the air. Frustrated, she grabbed the bag of black magic with her right hand, wincing in pain as her broken bones crunched. It was time for something new. Arria slid her hand with powder across her blade, and it cut into her skin. She couldn’t feel the cut over the pain of her broken fingers. With a quick enchantment, she spoke a few words and her weapon glowed purple.

  Elsargast looked at her with fear for the first time at her use of black magic. Her flamberge sparkled with purple magic surrounding it, and it grew heavy in her left hand. She brought her right hand to help steady it, but she didn’t know how much help it would be until she realized her hand was healing. Amazed, she watched her hand as she regained all feeling to it, and smiled. It was her turn.

  She stepped forward to deliver a series of powerful attacks. Each strike was blocked skillfully by the king. Moving to her left, she dove into the air headfirst toward the king, spinning as her flamberge circled in front of her. The first few aerial strikes Elsargast blocked, but the last struck his bicep. Arria landed on her feet and left arm. She held her flamberge with her right hand and swiped it into Elsargast’s legs, causing him to fall onto the ground.

  She stood above him, smiling, and sashed at his head. He rolled out of the way and got to his feet, blocking another quick strike toward his abdomen. Elsargast recoiled before moving forward. He struck toward her chest three times. She blocked two of the strikes; however, his third sank into her left breast, and she shrieked in pain.

  Backing away, she heard the door shake and realized she didn’t have much time to complete her task. She ran forward and dove to the ground, sliding between his legs. She thrust her flamberge at his groin, and he fell to the ground. Without another thought, she went in for the kill. Elsargast stepped so his side faced her and held his sword hilt in front of him with its blade pointing behind him. When she reached him, he stepped back, catching the hilt of her flamberge with his sword. He slid to the ground and pulled his sword straight, slicing her thighs and her cheek.

  Her flamberge fell well out of reach, and she was forced to back away as Elsargast charged her. She felt the golden blade penetrate her stomach, but she grabbed Elsargast to tumble with her. She rolled backward, then stood, still holding the king by his collar, and pulled the sword from her stomach. The king’s eyes grew wide as she pushed him. She claimed his sword and, with both hands, sank it deep into his chest. A gasp filled the air as the king dropped to his k
nees. He stared at his own sword protruding from his chest. He looked to Arria, disbelief in his eyes. She slid the sword out of his chest and grinned.

  Chapter 15

  Starlyn’s eyes sprang open in the morning when she heard clashing metal. She jumped to her feet to look around. Charlotte was nowhere to be found, and Snowflake was by her side, glancing at Starlyn. Starlyn rubbed her eyes and tried to focus, but still saw no trace of Charlotte.

  “Snowflake … find Charlotte!” Starlyn spat.

  Observing her surroundings, Starlyn found her armor and weapons. Getting to her feet too soon was a mistake, and she felt dizzy. She fell onto the ground. A sharp pain shot through her stomach to her chest, and she tightened her muscles in agony. She finally focused enough strength to slowly get back to her feet. Her body felt weak and numb. When she stretched, a muscle spasm shot into her left leg, and she fell back to the ground. She tried her best to shake the agony from her mind, but it overwhelmed her.

  It took several minutes of cringing in pain as she lay on the ground, before the pain finally subsided and she sat up. What she saw when her eyes opened, she didn’t expect. She was surrounded by at least twelve heavily armored women.

  “Is she one of us?” a soft voice asked.

  “No, it doesn’t look like it. Look, her armor is too well designed to be one of us,” a raspier voice remarked.

  “It looks like … she’s a—” the first voice spoke.