Rise of Centuria

by James A Harris

  The dealer pushed a large stack of coins toward Sarella. She had won another large bet. The coin was very shiny and her eyes grew large. She decided it was the time to quit testing her luck and wrapped up the winnings. The crowd around her cheered and gave her pats on the back. Agar cleared his throat and kept a dubious eye on everyone around her.

  Agar and Sarella traded in the coins for larger currency so they wouldn’t have so much to carry. Agar decided to keep the satchel full of winnings on his person, although Sarella was perfectly capable of protecting it. He did it more out of protecting her from watching eyes. They walked over to the bar and started snacking on the Chugean nuts. All their gambling had worked up quite an appetite. Agar looked at the barkeep and asked in his gruff voice, “A tall one of your finest milk in a dirty glass, please?”

  The barkeep smiled, “Coming right up.” He asked Sarella, “And what can I get for you, my lady?”

  “Pint of mead, my dear sir.” The barkeep pulled down a black dragon chalice adorned with gold trim from the shelf, and then filled it with the sweet mead that the locals loved. Sarella sniffed the drink before taking her first sip. The mead was smooth and satisfying and warmed her up as she drank. Agar sat beside her with evidence of his drink on his bushy beard. He slapped the glass down and asked for another round. The barkeep was more than delighted to serve them.

  While they drank, music played in the background. Strings were being strummed, a flute sang softly, and a set of drums tapped rhythmically. The woman playing the cello had large brown eyes, long curly blonde hair, cheek bones that rose high as she smiled toward the crowd, and tan, defined legs peeking out below her flowing yellow dress. Playing the flute was an old man with a long white beard and white hair hanging down to his waist. He wore small shiny spectacles over his sparkly pale blue eyes. Next to him, a crazed man, whom everyone called D.W., beat on a set of drums wildly but in sync with the other musicians.

  D.W. pounded on the drums with wild antics and flung his hair around with a head whip. Sarella felt the beat and tapped her foot to the rhythm. Agar loosened up and sang along with the tunes he knew. Dancing with abandon, the crowd went crazy over the singing and music. The musicians loved the participation and smiled gleefully.

  Sarella and Agar listened to the music play for several hours before deciding to turn in for the night. Agar suggested they would be safest to stay in the saloon because the guards on duty could protect those who won a large amount of coin. She agreed and they went up to their rooms on the second floor. Sarella opened her door with the rented key and went inside. The room was decorated with stained oak furniture, triple crowned trim boards, a king-sized bed with lots of pillows, table lamps with special candles in them and high ceilings. The bathroom was well lit even without windows and had a full-sized mirror. Sarella glanced at her reflection and smiled.

  She lay down in bed and started to think about the past few months, and then she thought about tonight’s gambling adventures. When Agar and she walked into the saloon eyes stared at them thinking them the oddest of couples. Agar was used to the judgmental looks and didn’t let it bother him. His job was to keep her safe and he was very good at it. Sarella walked confidently with him by her side. She was confident alone but felt much more comfortable with him as her long-time companion.

  When Sarella walked over to the gambling table she started having fun. She got a feeling that had not been felt for months. She felt relieved and it felt good. All the worrying about the demon attacks, how to rid Palatovia of the evil demon lord, and the quest the Council of the Elemental Guardians placed upon her shoulders had troubled her greatly. She remembered winning big, a man whispering to her, and she blushed again just thinking about it, and heading over to the bar with Agar. She thought about the man who whispered in her ear a few times. The simple gesture had left its mark in her memory.

  The evening flashed through her memory several times before she started thinking about the trip into the catacombs. Something about the descent into the catacombs with Gathar troubled her. When she was trapped between the two large orange crystals her spells were ineffective as if she was in a void where magic could not be done. The only places she knew that had such power were the portals that opened up to other places. She tried to think about the teachings in her magic training, but no answers came to mind except the one. What was in the catacombs that kept her from performing her magic?

  Her thoughts went back a little further to a time before the catacombs. In the meeting with the Council they were told by Reznek not to separate, and when they did their inability to fight the foe occurred. She remembered Reznek, who had a twinkle in his eyes that looked like stars. They shone bright in the dim lighting where their meeting was held. She had a strange feeling during the meeting that swept over her again. Something good was going to happen, but she couldn’t quite place a finger on it.

  There was a knock on her door and she sat up quickly in bed rubbing her eyes. The sun was up. In bed beside her lay a handsome man with long locks and a strong jaw sleeping heavily. She walked over to the door and asked, “Who is it?”

  “Agar, my lady,” came the deep voice of her companion.

  She opening the door slightly and told him, “Give me a few minutes and I’ll be down.”

  “Yes, my lady. Is everything okay?”

  “Yes, yes. I just need a few to wake up.” He nodded his head and made a slight grunt. Then he turned and walked away heading for the stairs.

  Sarella walked over to the bedside table, pulled out a piece of parchment left for customers, and began writing a note and pressed her lips against it using her magic to leave an imprint. A pair of red lips stood out brightly on the parchment. Not to wake her guest, Sarella carefully and quietly left the room to join Agar downstairs.

  The bar and tables were empty except for a few servants polishing and cleaning up the place from the night before. Sarella giggled as she glanced at the tables and remembered how she won lots of coin. She turned to Agar to see the loaded satchel hanging over his shoulder. He noticed and said, “It’s still here, my lady,” shaking the bag and making the coins jingle. “There is a race happening here in Chugean in a few days. Do you wish to partake?”

  “Sounds intriguing. What kind of race?”

  “Swim, run, and ride,” he said bluntly.

  “Let’s do it. We should tell Gathar and Ptolemy if they don’t already know.”

  “Yes, we should.”

  “Very well, I will go find out where we can sign up.”

  “No. No, my lady. A dwarf does not fare well swimming in any condition, much less in a race.”

  “Understood,” she said, disappointed.

  “Hmph.” Agar puffed out his chest and added, “Dwarves are skilled at many things. To simply swim is of no great loss.”

  “It is okay, Agar. Why do you want me to race alone?”

  “YOU are fit and skilled, my lady. I see you taking the gold in such a competition.”

  “Thank you,” she said shyly and a little embarrassed. They walked side by side and noticed the many signs posted outside about the race. They made their way to the nearest bank and went in to register. The banker was astonished by the satchel full of coin and offered to put it in safekeeping. Agar nodded to Sarella and they agreed the coin would be safer held in the bank than on their person. Sarella felt a rush of enthusiasm as she put her name down on the official parchment for the race. She didn’t want to race without Agar but believed the words he spoke were honest and true.

  Sarella felt the glory of winning even though the race wasn’t for a few more days. The feeling gave her butterflies. The parchment was not a contract to race but a seal of approval to participate. Although the payment was a small amount, Sarella did not like the idea of paying such a fee and then backing out, so quitting was not an option. Agar congratulated her on being courageous enough to join the race and continued to raise her confidence with compliments.

  After getting registered, Sarella and
Agar sought out Ptolemy and Gathar. They walked past many people dressed up in funny or frightening costumes. The city was bustling with creativity for the season’s festivities. Signs and decorations were posted everywhere. It was difficult to turn anywhere without seeing several of them. Sarella started to notice the many postings for the race and it made her all the more excited to be in it.

  They found Ptolemy and Gathar at a local bookstore near a weapons and armor shop with a sign that had a shield and two crossed swords. The bookstore was fairly new, but the building in which it was located was dilapidated. Outside of the two shops were several lines of standing troops. Sarella couldn’t tell for sure which army they belonged to for their armor did not match and they wore no insignia or crests. Sand, dirt, and mud stains covered their boots and leggings. Some held their helms in their hands while others wore them. The faces of the troops wearing the helms were totally hidden. Even their eyes were not visible because they looked through dark, narrow slits. At first glance, Sarella thought they didn’t have slits for sight at all.

  Agar was not intimidated nor impressed by their presence and he made it abundantly clear that he did not care.

  “What are they doing?” Sarella asked.

  “Beats me,” Agar said gruffly.

  “I wonder who they are. They do not look like typical warriors.” Gathar waited a moment before replying for he wanted to take another look at them.

  “They are not warriors,” Gathar finally answered. “Look at their weapons. You’ll see that they are not battle-worn. Their armor is dirty but unscathed. They are merely in costume for the seasons. Probably to draw attention to the weapons and armor shop.”

  “That makes sense,” she said. “Is there anything good inside?”

  “Yes, there is plenty to see, that’s for sure!” Ptolemy said. “You may even like some of the staves and magical relics they have. Of course, that is, if you’re into that.”

  Sarella answered, “I do find those things fascinating.” Ptolemy smiled at her and she smiled back. “They may become useful in our quest,” she added.

  “Indeed,” Ptolemy chuckled gleefully for he took pleasure in meeting people who had the same appreciation for magic as he did.

  Sarella turned to Gathar and discussed the race coming up in Chugean. Gathar suggested that Ptolemy join in on the race as well. Agar didn’t know the boy well but had whispered something to him that motivated him to agree on competing. Sarella nudged Agar and asked, “What did you tell him?”

  Agar responded, “Just a little man-to-man talk,” and started walking away. Sarella stared at him for a moment before following. Gathar and Ptolemy soon followed, talking about how they were going to prepare for the race.

  Gathar stopped to ask Ptolemy, “Do you plan on using magic in the race?”

  Ptolemy was surprised by his father’s bluntness, “What? No!”

  “Good!” They continued walking and caught up to Sarella and Agar. They all decided to visit another bank first to register Ptolemy and Gathar into the race, and then go to the Ringharts’ second home to eat. Gathar looked forward to eating Angela’s cooking. He felt his spirits rise with the thought alone.

  They walked up the creaky stairs, and almost as soon as the stairs made their first sound, the front door flew open and Kimberly stood there to greet the group. She welcomed them in and Gathar led the way. Ptolemy smelled something familiar and strange sensations started spreading through his body. The group made their way into the kitchen to find Angela cooking away. When Ptolemy saw Angela, he became stiff and felt his blood pumping hard and getting warmer. His father had not told him Mother was going to be in the Ringharts’ house, nor did he know about the incident at the Plateau. Ptolemy clenched his fists and felt his face turn a dark shade of red. The smile he once had was now gone. Angela had not noticed him yet. She was too focused on her many food preparation tasks. Gathar interrupted her, “Look who I found!” Angela turned to see the new faces in the room and when her eyes landed on Ptolemy, they instantly changed to blood red color and she threw the knife in her hand at his head. Ptolemy cast a spell to freeze objects in midair to stop the knife from completing its course. Angela became frightened and bolted out the back door in a mad sprint running faster than she ever had or could. Gathar had tried to stop the knife but was not quick enough to grab it. He had no idea what had overcome Angela and he ran to the back door only to see that she was far out in the field getting smaller and smaller by the second. He turned to Ptolemy and the others, “What in the name just happened there?”

  Sarella’s face had gone pale, “She…she was possessed. I’m sorry, Gathar, but the demons have her now.”

  Ptolemy exploded with a loud yell. “She tried to kill me at the Plateau and she just tried again now. Why didn’t you tell me she was going to be here?”

  Gathar turned toward his youngest son, “What are you talking about? She tried to kill you at the Plateau?”

  “YES! She put a knife in my back and left me for dead. I woke up aboard a demon airship led by Pepper. Did you not know any of this?”

  “I had no idea. Wait, Pepper is leading a demon ship? Ptolemy, we need to talk. I need to know what’s going on. Let’s go to an area more private.”

  They walked away as the rest of the group stood there quietly and in shock by what just happened. Agar said softly, “Give them their space. There seems to be some miscommunication that needs clearing. Unless they wish it, it is none of our concern at this time.”

  “But, but—” Sarella stuttered.

  “My lady, they will include us when it is necessary. For now, let’s keep our guard up. Can’t pass up a tasty meal either. I sure hope it’s not poisoned because it smells delicious.”

  Gathar and Ptolemy went upstairs to one of the spare empty bedrooms to continue their conversation. Gathar was getting the feeling that he could not trust anyone, and he needed Ptolemy to tell him everything that happened since the battle in the Great Plains. Before closing the door, Gathar looked down the hall to make sure nobody followed them up. It was clear. Ptolemy understood what his father’s intentions were. He began, “During the battle in the Great Plains I had taken a position atop a high plateau to get a better view of the battlefield from above. I was getting ready to cast an incantation that could slow time and bring all the demons to a near halt. My spell was just about ready to set loose when I felt a sharp object pierce into my back. It was an agonizing pain and I lost the focus on the spell. I turned around slowly to face my enemy and it was Angela. I had dreams that her eyes were red, but I don’t remember much about what actually happened on the Plateau after she pushed me down. I woke up on an airship with Pepper and King Katimi. King Katimi held me down.”

  “Wait! King Katimi was also on this airship you speak of?”

  “Yes, as I was saying, King Katimi was holding me down with his claw.”

  “Claw? Do you mean our king is a demon too?”

  “Yes, Father, please let me continue.” Gathar was a little off put by his son’s new confidence to speak to him in such a manner, but he allowed it. “He warned me not to move too suddenly because I had a bad wound. The demons aboard the ship actually took care of me. Pepper came over and took me under his wing before the airship was attacked. We took heavy fire and half the ship was torn off. The dragon keeping it afloat was freed as I went tumbling downward into the forest. I only caught a glimpse of the dragon being freed though. I hit many tree branches during my descent and finally landed on one that stopped my fall. It knocked the wind out of me, but I recovered quickly. I ventured through the forest and came across the hidden city of the lagartos.” Gathar nodded and wanted to ask more questions but refrained.

  “I was brought to the city by a lagarto by the name Palo. He was kind to me and took the risk of bringing me into his home. He brought me to a hut with a wise elder inside. I was terrified of them though, and I thought they were setting me up to steal my magic or finish me off.

  “When I entered the h
ut, my eyes saw only darkness and shadow and I needed a moment for my eyes to adjust. There were several lagartos standing guard in various parts across from each other. I entered the red hut wondering what was going to happen next. But something about the lagartos told me to overcome my suspicion and trust them. As we spent time in the hut, we observed visions of a desolate world dried up and in flames. The elder became faint and we tended to his needs. Servants brought him a steaming concoction and when he came to Palo escorted me out of the hut.

  “I stayed one night in the lagartos’ city before setting off. They requested that I stay the night and get a good rest. I couldn’t sleep that night though. They had put me up in a small home with a family of four that had an extra room for guests. The family treated me kindly and fed me a dish of seasoned salmon like I have never tasted before. But, anyway, I tried laying down and sleeping when it became dark. Hours passed and I decided to get up and explore the city.

  “The night was cool and there were plenty of torches lighting the buildings outside. Gold and crystal sparkled from the firelight and it was majestic. Their architecture made me feel at peace with nature. Despite the time of night, young and old lagartos lined the streets as they did during the day. They were very energetic and lively. Many passed me by and nodded. Some even spoke to me and said, ‘Good evening.’ I was pleasantly surprised.

  “I met two lagartos wearing different types of clothing. They had on woven fabrics that looked like they were made of different animal skins and furs. They stared at me as I walked by, and then decided to follow me as I explored the city. At first, I feared what they would do to me if I took a wrong turn or was out of view from the others, but after a few minutes they spoke up. We ended up having a conversation and they told me that they knew about the vision in the elder’s hut. They explained to me that the vision could mean lots of things. It could be the past, present, future, or even another world. What I needed to take from it is that life is precious and should be lived to its fullest. Strange lesson if you ask me, especially from a species that keeps so hidden from the rest of the world.