“Flutes,” Searon whispered.
“What?” Anaela asked.
“I can hear flutes.”
“I hear nothing.”
He put his index finger to his mouth and concentrated. Flutes played in perfect harmony with each other. The lullabies were those he remembered as a child. Soothing beats that were meant to bring sandbags to a child’s eyes.
“They are small sounds, yet I can hear them perfectly. I don’t think you can hear them because they are small flutes. The size dragonflies would play.” A wild smirk touched his lips.
“How can you hear this?” Anaela asked, dropping her jaw.
“It is a secret I’m afraid is nearing an end. I do trust you will tell no one.”
“I promise.”
Searon nodded, loosening the reins once again, making Stripes trot forward. He steered the horse to the forest, and he came to a stop only a span inside. Surrounding them, bright blue, green, and pink flowers grew in patterns which made them want to rub their eyes. Shells decorated trees in fancy fashion and even they were an assortment of bright colors. A variety of colorful insects—dragonflies, butterflies, and beetles—glittered in the area.
“We have come seeking your assistance,” Searon said.
Spirals of blues and greens flashed, flickering on all sides of them with a bright light, making Searon and Anaela close their eyes. When their eyes finally opened, they noticed a dozen faeries surrounding them. Six females and six males flew around them. Each had wings shimmering behind them. Some resembled dragonfly wings, while others appeared closer to those of butterflies. Four females had bright blue hair and the other two had bright green. The colors were almost blinding. The males mirrored the women, with four with blue hair and two with green. Clothes were nonexistent on the faeries; instead, they wore shells, leaves, or flowers to cover themselves. The males showed bare chests with toned muscles, without a single hair tainting their perfect bodies.
Searon had to clamp his jaw shut as he stared at the females. Their beauty he considered unmatched by any other than Anaela, and they showed much more than the kheshlar at his back. Flowers or shells covered their bosoms, connected together with vines traveling around their bodies. He could feel a nudge from Anaela. Searon cleared his throat abruptly.
“I am Searon, and this is Anaela. We have come seeking your assistance.”
A female faerie with thin blue eyebrows approached. She was the only faerie with a cleft chin. “We do not assist humans or kheshlars. You are not our allies. We have no allies, nor do we need any.”
“There are threats you are unaware of,” Searon pleaded.
“These threats do not concern us.”
“For years you have spent your time hiding. It is now time you played seek.”
She arched a thin eyebrow and studied him carefully.
“The rules of the game state once you are found, you must seek. Surely you will not break the rules.”
“Those rules only apply to our kind, not a mere human.”
“I am getting tired of everybody underestimating me.”
With effort, he grasped something from his sash and twirled it between his fingers. It was shiny and gold with a circular shape to it. A smile pursed his lips as he closed his palm.
“Heads I win, tails you lose.”
He licked his lips as he flicked the coin into the air. It shimmered from the green and blue glows of the faeries. He snatched it from the air and placed it on the palm of his other hand. The faeries didn’t look away from the coin.
“Tails. You lose.”
“This game has gone on long enough,” a slender male with green hair barked. He stepped forward, snatching a dagger from thin air and raising it. “Leave now, or we will make you.”
A swirling pink caught everyone off guard. Searon had to cover his eyes as another faerie appeared. Standing before them, a woman of immaculate beauty smiled. She had the brightest pink hair Searon had ever seen. Her eyebrows matched, but were thin, and her pink eyelashes stretched long. Dark pink eyes looked from the faeries to finally rest on him. She was bare of clothing except for three small pink flowers, two barely covering her bosom and a larger one hanging beneath her hips. Besides the flowers, only thin green vines covered her body. Her wings resembled a dragonfly’s, shimmering pink and lavender. Even her lips glittered pink with each movement.
“He will not be harmed,” she said.
“Yes, Mother,” the faeries replied in unison.
“The rules do apply, isn’t that right, Searon?”
He nodded.
“But Mother, he is a human,” the slender male said.
“To the eye, yet faerie blood runs in his veins.”
Anaela gasped.
“It is on your mother’s side, is it not?”
“Yes, Mother. She was quarter faerie,” Searon said.
“That is why it does not show. If she had a daughter, it would be defined.”
“She had two sons.”
“That is quite rare. Does the magic run through your veins?”
“No. It only runs through my brother’s.”
“You come to us seeking help, and a game?”
“Yes,” he replied.
“Tell me … how do we play?”
Chapter 38
Darkness crept through the air as an unnerving chill ran across Arria’s face. Her face remained bare, unlike the rest of her body, which was covered in blackened steel armor. When she had first put it on years ago, it had not been comfortable for her, but these days the comfort lay within the armor. It became a pleasant feeling to be neither hot nor cold under the silver chain mail, even with blackened plate armor atop it. It protected her when she was in need; therefore, she owed her life to the metal. She couldn’t imagine what would have happened without it at the battle of Sudegam. Searon had grown strong, stronger than she could have imagined. Perhaps the warlock had been right. He did need to be removed. His efforts seemed to link the humans and kheshlars together, and that wasn’t a good sign. He would be too busy with Sudegam to travel back to his allies in the southeast. The small villages Arria visited had not been touched by his presence. Arria heard rumors he had not even come back near the village since he left it over three years ago.
She grew close now, she could feel it. There would be one more village she would have to cross before it would be nothing but forest to the destroyed village, Death Valley. She wondered if it had become a valley or if these humans called it that for its bad luck. It had indeed been bad luck if everyone in the village had been destroyed except Searon, the single reason it was targeted in the first place.
Arria slowed her pace, peering through an opening between rose bushes to find two young boys playing. They tossed a pinecone back and forth as they laughed. One had raven hair and the other bronze. It fell over their head like a bowl. There appeared to be so much innocence within these two boys. How sweet it would taste to be able to destroy it.
She strode out of the shadows, holding two roses, both white, which she twirled between her fingers. The boys looked at her in shock but not fear. A pinecone fell from a tree toward the raven-haired boy. He did not see it, and Arria nearly laughed when it smacked into his face with a thud. The boy grunted, scratching his nose, before turning to peer at Arria once more. Still, no fear showed within these two boys. Arria gave great respect to those who held no fear for her. Besides Searon in his one moment of passion for the weak kheshlar he held affection for, there had been nobody besides children who did not fear her.
“What are your names?” Arria smiled.
“I’m Kelvnar and this is Vaelyn,” the boy with black hair said.
“Those are nice names,” Arria said, kneeling on the ground in front of them.
“Who are you?” Vaelyn asked.
“My name is Arria,” she said with a smile.
“What are you?” Kelvnar asked.
Her smile broadened slightly. She rested her hands behind each of their heads. “I am
a kheshlar.”
“A kheshlar?” Vaelyn asked.
“Yes.”
“You’re beautiful,” Kelvnar said.
She smiled again. It hadn’t been a word she heard often, especially after the change. A long time ago she would hear it every day from one of the king’s guards, Vil’ek. Her smile broadened as she thought of him. She would make him hers once again. Nobody had called her beautiful after the change, despite the fact she felt more beautiful than ever. She knew Zergiel found her beautiful, but the fool would never touch her. Vil’ek would be the only one she’d allow to touch her. Of course, it wouldn’t stop her from touching others, but she had full right to.
The sun slowly disappeared behind the trees in a red glow, lighting the sky in purple and orange. Owls began to appear, scattering through the trees. Many owls were brown, but a few were white. Arria didn’t find them as appealing as most, though. She admired the black owls. Arria wasn’t fond of white; instead she found black to be an exotic color. The clearing was small, with scattered pinecones and bark dust scattered about. It was a simple place just outside the village. Behind the two boys, she could see through the trees to the small village, full of brick homes of various hues. None of the houses seemed to match each other in any way. It looked to be a simple village.
“It grows late. Shouldn’t you children be home with your families?” Arria asked.
“Yes, we should go soon,” Kelvnar said.
“I have no family,” Vaelyn rasped.
“Is that so? It is a shame that there will be nobody to miss you.”
His eyes bulged in understanding, but no sound came out as Arria grabbed his neck. She clenched tightly, removing his chance for breath before looking to the other. Kelvnar stared at her with disbelief, but spoke no words. Arria smiled at him. His shiver was replaced by confidence.
“Will you kill me?” Kelvnar asked.
“No.”
“Will you kill him?”
“Yes,” Arria said.
“Why?”
“Because he has nobody. His life has little use. You, however … there is plenty you can do to serve me.”
She snapped Vaelyn’s neck and tossed him aside. She had little use for a child without a family. She gazed deep into the remaining child’s gunmetal eyes. They were full of life and excitement. He began losing control as she gained it. She felt the magic within her through the darkness inside her mind. When she had first changed, she’d had to use black powder each time to seize the wild magic. Now that she had more control, she could almost find it each time by herself. She searched the blackness within her mind for the small flame. It was the same flame she’d witnessed by the undead lord.
She found the flame and seized the power, letting it flow into her, making her feel of fire. Her body felt as if it became one with the flame. Staring deep within the child’s eyes, she released energy, which trickled from her fingertips into the boy. She could feel as he fell under her command. It felt wonderful. It was like having a pet animal who would jump at any command she gave. Yes, the boy would be her animal now; he would serve her well.
“Kelvnar … your parents are evil and have been holding you back. You have power within you, I can feel it. You need to return home to your family, and while they sleep, burn down their home. Be sure to trap them inside so they cannot escape. They must be destroyed and you must return to me. You will know when I send for you.”
“Yes, great mistress. I will do as you command.”
“Excellent. Now go.”
The boy quickly ran off, disappearing through the forest toward the town. He hardly had any fear to begin with, but now he would never hold the emotion again. There would be only glory and power for him, nothing else. Arria would make sure he would come to greatness—at her command he would accomplish miraculous things. Yes, he could be a dark lord one day with her guidance. She could sense his soul had nearly been gone to begin with, making him easy prey. Now his soul was destroyed and replaced with hate.
Arria rose to her feet with a smile that would make the fiercest warrior stumble a step. Yes, the world would be hers, and nobody would stop her. Not even the so-called Searon, Claymore Wielder of Calthoria. No, he was not as powerful as her. The fool of a man could not even wield magic. She needed to study and grow in her power, because even though he could not wield magic, he had been powerful with his claymore. She needed a distraction for him. So far nothing had distracted the man from his goal, but she would be sure to change that.
She continued through the forest with a brisk pace, nearly running. Soon she would reach her destination, and even Searon would stumble in her presence. She grew eager to wipe the smug look from his face. No matter what anybody else thought, she knew despite all of his accomplishments, he was still human. He was a mere human, and so he would fall. She was the mistress of the undead. All would bow before her, including Searon. The wizard would probably have to die as well—his stubbornness was too great—but she would leave that to the warlock. He seemed to hold bitter feelings toward his past friend.
The forest surrounding her became a blur of green. Fall approached and so the leaves changed colors in the trees. Most leaves were yellows, which before would have added to the beauty of the woman Arria had met, but she was no longer an issue. She wore entirely too much yellow to be pleasant anyway. She was an autumn at heart, but now her heart was gone. Arria smiled at her memory once more until she quickly emptied her mind to darkness. It was darkness where she felt the most comfortable.
It grew dark. Stars began to appear. Arria couldn’t see many stars through the thick trees, but those she could see were stunning. Every time she stared at the stars, she was reminded of her sister. Her sister had been born under the stars when Arria was young. Arria had only been a hundred years old at the time, but she smiled with pride that night. It wasn’t but five years later when their father had fallen victim to a raid as he patrolled the lands. Starlyn had never truly known her father, and Arria found that to be sad. The two bonded after their father died. Arria was the older sister, and she helped Starlyn along through the years. No siblings had been as close as Arria and Starlyn. Many kheshlars envied the two of them. Arria had been sad when she could not convince Starlyn to aid her in saving Mother. Still, no matter what the outcome, Arria could not, would not, kill her sister.
Arria stepped from the forest into a clearing. It was a village. Destruction had laid the village flat. The draeyks hadn’t been organized with their destruction. Arria ambled forward onto the dirt path through the village. Rubble was scattered everywhere, without organization of any kind. Grass and vines overgrew buildings. The village had not been touched in a long time. Wooden homes were burned to the ground, while brick ones were smashed in and burned black. Skeletons covered the ground everywhere, lying in the same location where they had died. Arria wondered if Searon had come into the village to try to save anybody, but cast the idea aside. He would have probably known better. It would have been certain death to try and save anybody. The draeyk force had been too large.
She ambled through the village. The skeletons of a few draeyks with long snouts lay near a barracks, but the number paled in comparison to the number of human skeletons she saw, many of whom were still clasping their swords, hammers, and pitchforks. It seemed a futile defense, though the number of draeyk bodies surprised Arria slightly. These men had a proper trainer for defense. It had to be Searon. Nobody else could have trained with such skill for these peasants to defeat so many. Where would a weapons trainer live? Only two options presented themselves: as close to the barracks as they could get, or the furthest. With the signs of destruction surrounding the village, it seemed unlikely a warrior could have escaped unscathed, even one as powerful as Searon. Besides, if Searon lived close, he would have joined the circle of warriors at the barracks, and they would have been more successful. He had a family. Arria imagined he would have chosen a spot outside of the village.
Arria continued walking past the ru
bble to the edge of the village. A small path exited the village on the east. It had nearly been covered in forest growth. Large footprints with three claws arched forward and one on the side led toward the path, but none seemed to return. She smiled slightly before dashing forward.
Excitement clouded her mind. She was so close. Blackberry vines broke with each thrust of her stride, making her glad she wore the armor. Without, those prickly vines would tear at her flesh unpleasantly. She held the hilt of her flamberge tightly as she dashed forward through the thick vines. Some grew as high as her face, but she did not attempt to slice them away, for the weight of her flamberge would only slow her. Scrapes appeared on her face from the bushes, but she didn’t care. She was so close now. It was so far away from the village, but she knew it had to be the one. If not, she would continue searching. She would never give up. Arria planned to have Searon within her grasp.
Finally, she found what she searched for: a lone cabin surrounded by ferns and prickly green bushes sat atop a small hill. It had been burned to the ground. Only a few objects remained within. A desk sat in the main room, half burned and covered in spider webs, and two beds remained intact, though burned. Arria rushed inside to look. She found the skeletons of several draeyks, but there were no human bodies. She sighed deeply, letting out a breath she had not known she held. Here it stood. She had found his home. This was where Searon had once lived. There was little left.
Who had this man been? What was his weakness? There wasn’t much to go off of. Something caught her eye outside; she stepped over the burned stubble of a wall to leave the cabin. Her heart raced, but she took long deep breaths to soothe it. A large stone stood alone, it didn’t seem to match anything surrounding it. She saw no burn marks on it, nor on the ground surrounding it. Instead, azalea bushes grew around the stone with roses sprouting in front. Arria quickly strode over to it, noticing the engraved stone.
The Obsidian Arrow Page 17