Ethan Wright and the Curse of Silence

by Kimbro West

  The massive shockwave ripped through the air with a loud CRACK, pushing Availia and Stanley through the portal. Auren hit the ground and rolled toward the opening with his free hand clawing at the ground, the other hand still grasping his sword — but he, too, slid through the portal.

  Ethan’s heart finally started beating, but his entire body, having undergone such duress, collapsed.

  “DRAW YOUR SWORD!” screamed Xivon as he paced back and forth rampantly in front of Ethan. “Draw the sword that doesn’t belong to you! DRAW IT!” he taunted.

  Ethan could feel the blade tingling and crackling before he could even get his hand on it. He thought if he could pull the map from his jacket, he could use it to shield the heat like he had when he fought the Stonewolf. But he remembered that he had given it to Auren on the airship only the night before. Reluctantly, he reached for his sword. Scalding pain shot through his hand. He drew the blade just long enough to drop it in front of Xivon.

  “Now then, Orobori … the game is over,” spat Xivon with a malevolent smile.

  He raised his sword and began to swing. A loud CLANK came, moments before Ethan’s demise.

  “Get away from him,” yelled Auren, as he spun around, swinging his Losalfarian steel wildly at Xivon.

  Xivon blocked the swing and grabbed Auren’s alchemy jacket, which was clasped shut. Auren, in turn, grabbed a fistful of Xivon’s cloak, along with a pendant that had flung its way out. The two were right in each other’s face, separated by their swords, which blocked one another.

  “Ah, son of a Faryndon — you managed to climb out of the hole that led to certain death, did you? I get to kill a Faryndon and Isaac’s twin in the same day?! Well, this was certainly worth the trip up the hill,” boasted General Xivon.

  Xivon knocked Auren’s sword to the side and lunged forward. His blade-tip pierced Auren’s alchemy jacket and sank into his chest. Stunned, Auren’s face contorted. Before he could move backward, Xivon whispered to his sword and a loud shockwave erupted that sent Auren flying. As he hit the ground, his shoulders plowed a deep furrow into the mud. The impact was devastating — as Auren’s body lay motionless, his new sword lay abandoned in the mud several feet away.

  The shockwave sent Ethan’s hair blowing backward and he felt a massive pressure surge. Ethan felt like he was in the airship; his ears began to pop and his eyes to water.

  He thought of how Auren had fought in the youth sword competition, how he had entered so he could stand up for Ethan, how the sword had broken in half from the force Auren used in his attack against Marcus. Scared and angry, Ethan knew this would be nothing like the contest.

  “Now then, here is the death of Auren the so-called mighty.” Xivon raised his sword and Ethan took a handful of cooling mud, relaxed his mind, and picked up his sword. He took two steps and did his best to block. The two swords collided and another shockwave sent Ethan stumbling backward. A loud CRACK echoed far down the hill. This shockwave pushed many soldiers off balance, and many more to the ground.

  The mud in Ethan’s hand was hardening and heat was blistering through. He took several steps backwards and raised his sword defensively.

  “What do we have now? You found a way to hold onto the sword after all — for the moment anyhow.”

  The heat was bleeding through the cracks of the mud, beginning to burn his hand and arm. It was even making his face hot.

  It was now or never. He pulled the sword back to deliver a wild swing, but it was too late. Xivon took a step forward and again slapped the flat of his blade to the ground with all his might. Again, the blade curved and connected with the ground, until the tip landed just shy of Ethan’s feet.

  The shockwave was massive. Ethan dropped his sword and fell to his knees. The pressure caved his ears, he could not hear or see clearly and his nose started to bleed. He was extremely disoriented — he could not tell what direction he was facing and time stood still.

  Ethan was alone. He decided he did not care what happened anymore. He could not find his brother, even if he was alive. His father was missing and his mother was dead. And now, his best friend lay motionless on the ground next to him. Ethan had failed them. He had failed everyone.

  Blinded by tears, he knew the end was coming. He felt it, just like his brother had when the creature stood over him in Ethan’s dreams. Then … he realized.

  “My dreams,” whispered Ethan to himself.

  “It’s time, Ethan,” stated Xivon.

  Ethan yanked off his glove and the stone with the missing chunk fell into a small mud puddle. It glimmered wetly. He was sure he hadn’t picked the wrong stone.

  “Three things to make a reaction,” he muttered as blood from his nose dripped into the puddle.

  He shoved his hand in the mud puddle, grasping the stone. It shook and vibrated wildly in his fist. His skin started to itch as stone formed on his hand and followed up his wrist. It continued up his arm, splitting the alchemy jacket from wrist to shoulder. The stone skin stopped short of his neck and chest.

  He picked up the sword with his stone-skinned hand; with the other he clasped the top of his alchemy jacket. The rest of the clasps snapped shut from top to bottom. The garment reacted instantly to the heat coming from the sword, and the stone skin protected Ethan’s hand and arm.

  Xivon appeared to panic momentarily, but then came at Ethan with full force. Ethan swung as hard as he could. Molten fire shot from his sword, blasting out with such force that his boots sank into the mud. He leaned forward to regain his balance. The collar on his jacket rose higher to protect his face from the heat. The trail of fire streaked as far as the eye could see, over the soldiers fighting the war, past the city of Losalfar, and beyond the horizon.

  Ethan released his grip on the sword, which was now chalk-white. Smoke billowed out from the sword and blew wildly in the wind.

  The black fog in front of Ethan could only be the leftovers of General Xivon himself. It furled and twisted in front of Ethan, slowly forming into the same face that had appeared inside the dome, and inside Ethan’s dreams. The mouth gaped open, as if to scream. Ethan gasped. He couldn’t believe the fight wasn’t over yet — but this time, he heard the scream.

  “Tell the Castellan that I’m coming for his head!” shrieked the face as the fog roiled violently. The black smoke dissipated and blew away in the wind.

  Ethan stumbled to his knees. Loka arrived to aid Ethan and Auren. Ethan felt his hearing start to go. He saw Loka’s mouth moving. He was saying something, but Ethan could not hear what it was. He fell backward, stared at the sky for a moment, and let darkness envelope him.

  Chapter 25

  The Castellan’s War

  Ethan could not remember the ground being this soft. It felt like he was floating on a white cloud, made of feathers. Opening his eyes, he noticed the sun peering through a window and white sheets covering him. He realized he was no longer outside the city walls. He could still hear the ringing in his ears from the shockwave that had come from General Xivon’s sword. He heard voices in the room. He focused his eyes and saw a Mitan nurse talking with Auren.

  “Hey, you’re awake finally!” said Auren, looking over from the bed next to Ethan.

  Ethan smiled and struggled to sit up. “Where are we?” he asked in a groggy voice.

  “I think we’re in a temple — the hospital was full of the more seriously injured,” replied Auren. “Mmm, the food here is great.” He stuffed his face with bread and some kind of pudding. “You simply have to try some of this …stuff,” he added, shoveling more pudding into his overflowing mouth.

  “How did you survive? I mean … I saw him stab you.”

  Auren pulled the map from under his pillow and handed it to Ethan. Ethan smiled.

  “That thing is wicked …” said Auren, “and maybe indestructible.”

  “I’m glad you’re ok.” Ethan was relieved. He quickly stuffed the map in his pack before anyone had a chance to come in and see it.

  “Yeah, just got
a sore neck, and this weird burn on my hand when I grabbed onto Xivon’s robe. I think we solved our Stonewolf problem….”

  He showed his hand to Ethan. The symbol that was blistered into Auren’s hand matched the pinch-shackle.

  “So he sent the Stonewolf to kill me?”

  Auren nodded. “I must’ve grabbed his necklace when he shocked me with that weird sword of his.”

  “What happened to Availia and Stanley?” Ethan asked softly.

  Auren put down his pudding and shook his head. He started to tear up and Ethan’s stomach tied into knots as he assumed the worst.

  “I’m not sure. The portal led to the edge of a cliff … I didn’t see them anywhere,” sniffled Auren.

  Ethan didn’t know what to say. He stared down at his sheets.

  “I was able to climb my way out and back through the portal. I heard wolves, Ethan. Lots and lots of wolves …”

  Loka entered the room with his precise footing.

  “Loka!” said Ethan. “Is Ventu alright? Did you talk with General Lodbrok?”

  “Yes, Ventu is fine, and yes, everything is fine between us and Tirguard … thanks to you two and your friends,” replied Loka softly. “I want you to know that I sent my best trackers to look for Availia and Stanley. Ventu personally volunteered,” he added as he put his hand on Auren’s shoulder.

  “Ventu told me how you insisted that the Tirguard army listen to you or suffer the consequences,” he chuckled.

  “Yeah, Ethan, we would have showed them, huh?” added Auren, smiling.

  “I met Xivon … up on the hill,” said Ethan. “Or at least … I thought I did.”

  “A trap?” asked Loka, concerned.

  “Yeah, I think we just destroyed the trap, I’m not really sure, but … I don’t think Xivon was actually there.”

  Auren, too, looked concerned.

  “Well everyone at Losalfar saw you defeat Xivon. Even if it was just a trap, that’s pretty good for a twelve-year-old alchemist.”

  Ethan looked down at his arm, which was a bit itchy and mostly still grafted with stone skin. He looked to the side of the bed and found his sword lying next to his pack.

  “I had ten soldiers guarding your sword because it was too hot to carry. It took two full days to finally cool down enough to get it back here. It’s actually still warm.” Loka chuckled. “Now then, I think it’s time you got some rest,” he added.

  “Ah, one last thing,” said Ethan quickly. Loka turned back, waiting for Ethan to continue. “Um, Xivon told me this sword didn’t belong to me.”

  “Indeed,” answered Loka.

  “Then how is it I came to find it? I mean, I pulled it from the alchemy vessel …” asked Ethan hesitantly.

  “This is no ordinary sword. That is, even if you’re an alchemist you can’t wield fire from just any blade. This sword was not made here — was most likely made in Contabesco. The sword belonged to another Orobori … Xivon’s brother — Dregfin. When they decided to leave after the Aeroseth war to form the Aegis, they had a competition of sorts to see who would be the leader. After the city of Gilfangir was erected, Dregfin took his followers and led an attack on Losalfar in hopes of gaining the respect of the Aegis and becoming their new leader. At that time Losalfar was just being built as well, and since Aeroseth suffered such tremendous loss, he thought we would not have the resources to defend ourselves. He was mistaken — Dregfin was destroyed.”

  “By who?” interrupted Auren.

  Loka seemed reluctant to answer. He looked over to Ethan with a nod.

  “Loka destroyed him,” answered Ethan. “He used Dregfin’s own sword against him …”

  “Yes, but that was a long time ago.” Loka nodded again.

  “But how do I know that?”

  Loka flipped over Ethan’s stone-skinned hand, exposing the palm. Ethan looked. Inscribed in his hand was a serpent in the shape of a circle, eating its own tail.

  “The tail-devourer has chosen you, Ethan. I imagine your dreams and visions are sometimes sent from the Oroborus. I think that is remarkable, and it says something about you,” said Loka as he smiled.

  “So what happened to the sword after that?” asked Ethan.

  “We kept it here for many years — but we were afraid that it would not be secure. So it was placed in an alchemy vessel. The last I heard, it was owned by a man named Griswold Agrippa.”

  Both Ethan and Auren looked at each other in amazement.

  “Now then, I think that is enough excitement for one day. Thank you, boys, for your bravery. I hope this will bring us closer to peace with Tirguard. When you feel better, I can escort you back, but please feel free to stay as long as you wish.”

  Loka took his leave. Drained, Ethan laid back down and relaxed his eyes.

  “Hey, Ethan.”

  “Yeah?”

  “Did you see that spin move?” asked Auren, chuckling.

  Ethan smiled and nodded his head.

  ***

  As the boys entered the city of Tirguard, they were greeted with a few looks of gratitude, but mostly sneering contempt from passersby. The great stone city had been plagued by murder, torture and fear, spread through the propaganda given by Tirguard itself. Inventions that didn’t support the anti-Mitan effort were melted down to become the boot heels of war, by order of past Castellans. Swimming in ignorance were the average townspeople, who may not have left the city in their entire lifetime, completely unaware that Losalfar was a peaceful city, and the Mitans that lived there were a peaceful group. And here Ethan and Auren had stood in front of a Tirguard-led attack that would have meant certain victory.

  The City Watch that guarded the walls accosted Ethan and Auren with their eyes as the boys walked by. The boys didn’t say a word. They quickened their pace through the city in hopes that their presence would go unnoticed. But a familiar voice rang out from behind and stopped them in their tracks. It was Heinrich.

  “And where do you think you’re going? You two are coming with me!” he shrieked.

  Heinrich muttered and swore under his breath as he led the boys into the throne room of Tirguard. The high walls were held fast by great stone pillars. Much like many buildings of Tirguard, the pillars were carved statues of armored men that appeared to hold up the ceiling. Ethan was amazed by the stonework before him. However, it was short-lived, as a massive voice echoed across the room.

  “YOU STOLE MY VICTORY!” yelled the Castellan.

  Ethan wasn’t sure if the Castellan was yelling at him or at everyone in the room. Heinrich dragged the boys farther into the room, stopping in front of the throne. He then joined Tothyll, General Lodbrok, Edison and several soldiers who were standing to the side.

  The weathered face of the stress-ridden Castellan was so used to giving orders that it looked more natural when yelling than when speaking normally. “Tell me, Ethan, is the Oroborus here to protect you, or this city?” asked the Castellan rhetorically.

  “I don’t know, sir,” answered Ethan quietly.

  “You don’t know, eh? Well the report that was handed to me is that Losalfar still stands. Is that true?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Several attendants stood next to the throne where the Castellan was sitting. One leaned forward, offering a plate full of grapes and other fruits. The Castellan waved him off.

  “I sent these men … MY MEN … to sack that city … and you choose to sabotage them?! To what end? To play in this Oroborus game of chess and kill some Mitan that doesn’t bother me in the slightest?”

  “I didn’t kill anyone, sir,” stated Ethan, suddenly distracted by Tothyll’s flashy jewelry. One of the necklaces had a pendant in the same shape as the symbol on the pinch-shackle, and that of Xivon’s necklace. He gave Auren a sharp elbow in the ribs.

  “Ow, what?” whispered Auren out of the side of his mouth.

  Ethan motioned over to Tothyll.

  “Look at Tothyll’s necklace, it matches the burn on your hand,” whispered Ethan.


  Auren just about jumped out of his shoes, but quickly contained himself as the Castellan stopped his rant for a moment.

  “I’m sorry, is there something more important you would rather discuss?” asked the Castellan smartly.

  “No, sir,” said both Ethan and Auren.

  “As I was saying — I have over a thousand men that say otherwise. They saw you use alchemy and obliterate a Mitan named Xivon. I must say, since you stopped me from destroying that city, it was the least you could do, killing its leader.”

  “Xivon is not of Losalfar, he’s the leader of the Aegis … from Gilfangir. And I didn’t actually kill him, it was a trap that I destroyed.”

  “And how do you know he is not dead?”

  “Because …” Ethan decided he would try and keep his mouth closed.

  “I’m not in the mood for games, boy, TELL ME!” commanded the Castellan, as his voice boomed through the hall.

  “Because after I destroyed the trap it told me it was coming … for your head … sir,” said Ethan reluctantly.

  The Castellan slammed his fist on the arm of the chair and stood up. Ethan jumped back a bit, as did Auren. The Castellan’s face turned as red as a tomato.

  “You mean to THREATEN ME IN MY OWN CITY!” screamed the Castellan.

  His voice echoed off the walls, pillars and ceiling. No one moved, and a long moment of awkward silence ensued.

  “Castellan, sir, if I may.” Edison stepped forward.

  “NO YOU MAY NOT!” boomed the Castellan.

  Several moments passed before the veins started to settle in the Castellan’s head and neck. He sat back in the throne and calmly continued.

  “Ethan Wright, you and your friends participated in treasonous affairs. As a consequence, you lost half of your party — I have no doubt that you feel this is punishment in itself. However, as of now, it seems I have no choice but to close down the alchemy school once again. I believe the will of the Oroborus is to keep you safe — that does not include you leaving the city and mingling in diplomatic affairs.”