Heir to the Sundered Crown (The Sundered Crown Saga)

by Matthew Olney

  “Oh that was incredible!” the chubby boy laughed. More fireworks shot into the sky, one exploding into the image of a knight whilst another took the form of the monster Necron. Upon seeing the beast Luxon could hear the boo’s of the crowd.

  “Why are they booing Lux?” Yepert asked confusion evident in his voice.

  Luxon rolled his eyes.

  “C’mon Yepert you must have heard the story of Necron and Estran, we celebrate it every year!” Luxon replied.

  Yepert had a look of confusion on his face as though he was deep in concentration, after a while his eyes went wide.

  “Oh yeah...but you tell the tale so well Lux, go on tell it again.”

  Luxon sighed. He knew he was a good story teller and the two boys had spent many a night telling each other tales from their respective homelands. The tales from Plock where Yepert was from made for some pretty interesting if far-fetched stories. His favourite involved a witch, a mage and a rather amorous chicken...

  “Alright, ok, so here goes” Luxon said, walking back inside the dorm room. He took a cushion from his bed and threw it on the ground, before sitting himself carefully upon it. Yepert too settled himself onto the floor in eager anticipation of the tale. Whenever Luxon told a tale he liked to be as dramatic as possible, so he pulled his hood over his head so that his face was hidden in shadow.

  “Long ago before the days of the kings of Delfinnia, and even before the Golden Empire, the descendants of the first man, Niveren, prospered for thousands of years, but always lurking in the shadows was the spirit of Niveren’s evil brother, Danon.

  ‘The offspring of the dark one and his wicked wife had not been idle after his first defeat in the days of gods, and whilst the world above them witnessed the rise and fall of kings and empires they focused on furthering their power in the dark arts of witchcraft, and the blackest of magic’s. In the age of three empires a powerful wizard who was also secretly a disciple of Danon known as Necron bound his soul with magic’s so foul that the site of his wicked experiments remains tainted to this day and the first Lich was created.”

  Yepert shivered at the thought of such a terrifying monster. He had seen pictures and read about them in the ancient texts found in the great library.

  “Necron rose to dominate all other followers of the N’gist cult and his foul influence spread to the world of men. With promises of power and riches he seduced the rulers of the Sarpi Empire. Within less than a century that noble and rich empire had fallen into decadence and corruption, its people once good and fair fell into wickedness.

  Soon the Lich’s influence had spread to the Yolla and Tulin Empires until only the fractured and broken Nivion Empire remained. Once more conflict erupted on Esperia. Millions perished in the bloodletting as the Nivion desperately tried to halt Necron’s power.”

  Yepert’s eyes had gone wide.

  “What happened? Not everyone must have gone bad surely!” he cried.

  Luxon smiled.

  “Not everyone went evil of course. As is the way in most of the old tales there is always a counter to the bad, after all isn’t it always preached by the church that the light always balances out the dark?”

  Luxon cleared his throat and once more pulled his cloak tighter about his shoulders. There was definitely something on the air. The summers in Caldaria were rarely so cold. He continued telling the tale;

  “At the Battle of the Greenmoor the armies of the three Empires clashed and their fleets fought at sea. The already weakened Nivion’s fought bravely, but the power of Necron could not be broken. When all hope seemed lost a knight of the Nivion Empire called Estran rode forth on his white stallion and bellowed a challenge to the Lich and vowed to never surrender.’

  ‘By the way,” Luxon said pausing the story to Yepert’s obvious dismay.”I once visited the place where the battle took place.”

  Yepert scoffed. “You’ve been to the Blackmoor? As if. You’d have to be mad to go there; they say that banshees and the ghosts of the dead roam those evil moors.”

  Luxon chuckled.

  “I went there when I was younger with my mother. If it was as evil as everyone says then why is the city of Blackmoor there?”

  A look of concentration crossed Yepert’s features as he tried to argue. With an exasperated sigh he admitted defeat.

  “There are banshees...” Yepert grumbled at his friend’s logic.

  “Anyway...’ Luxon interrupted ‘back to the story.”

  A large firework lit up the boys room followed a few seconds later by the loud explosion of the black powder. The cheers of the crowd followed on the breeze.

  “The scars of that mighty battle are evident in Delfinnia today as the once prosperous region of Greenmoor was turned into a wasteland, today it is known’ he paused for effect ‘as the Blackmoor. Anyway, Estran rode forth from the lines of his battered army and drew his sword Asphodel”

  Yepert cooed at the name.

  “The sword of light!” the boy cried excitedly. Everyone in Delfinnia had heard of the legendary blade, the sword that had been wielded by heroes throughout the ages. Most of the tales of the mythical weapon were probably just fairy tales; after all, any story that had the sacred blade in it always went down well with the common folk.

  Luxon smirked at his friend’s expression.

  “With the sword thought to be that mighty blade Asphodel, the two battled for hours until finally Estran mortally wounded Necron in single combat. Sadly for our hero, he too was killed by the Lich’s forces, and to this day the peoples of Delfinnia celebrate Estran with the feast of the Brave Knight on midsummer’s eve... The end” Luxon said spreading his arms wide.

  Yepert sat in silence confusion evident on his face. He blinked...

  “Wait...that’s it?”

  “Yep” Luxon replied simply.

  “But...But Estran died! What happened next?”

  Luxon sighed and stood up from the floor, even sat on the cushion his bum was growing numb from the hard stone surface. He pulled his hood down and ran a hand through his hair before answering his confused friend.

  “Estran died and the forces of Necron obliterated the warriors of Nivion hailing in the thousand year long age of darkness.

  Not a very happy ending I know but that’s why most story tellers stop at the point when Estran cut down Necron...”

  Yepert sat on the floor looking from one hand to the other. He was a bright lad, just not when it came to history or the meaning of things.

  “If Estran died and the goody’s lost then why on earth do we celebrate the feast of the Brave Knight?”

  Just as Luxon was about to answer, a deep voice interrupted him, causing Yepert to jump in fright.

  “Because the tale of Estran shows that it is noble to stand against evil at all costs, and to never fear death. If people follow his example of courage and bravery then evil can be always be defeated.”

  Stood in the doorway to boy’s room was the man Luxon had met when he came to after his failed levitation experiment.

  The Nightblade Welsly gave a bow.

  Yepert jumped to his feet his mouth hanging open in surprise and awe; he’d never met a Nightblade before.

  “Forgive me for my intrusion, but Master Thanos wishes for you to come to his chambers in the Arch tower. He sent me to escort you there. Some riders from the south arrived earlier this evening and your name cropped up Luxon” the Nightblade explained.

  Luxon quickly pulled on his shoes and followed Welsly out of the room throwing a bemused look to his friend as he went. Curiosity filled him as he wondered at the identity of the riders who had named him, as far as he knew no-one outside of Caldaria knew him except for his mother.

  Together he and Welsly walked out of the dorm and into the bustling streets. The bangs and pops of the fireworks and the host of entertainers couldn’t shake the feeling of unease that reached into Luxon’s chest.

  ***

  10.

  Kaiden paced the opulent room a fro
wn adorning his features. His blue eyes were shut tightly in prayer as he walked and the mutterings of his appeals to his god broke the silence.

  Alira sat in one of the high backed leather chairs her feet resting on the edge of a large crystal desk that dominated the room. She struggled to keep her eyes open; all knowledge of time was lost to her as she struggled against her weariness.

  The two had travelled for three days up the Kings highway and the stress of the trip had finally caught up to her. The trip would normally have taken a day at most but with marauding bandits and battered armies using the same road it had taken lot longer.

  At one point they had been forced to abandon the road entirely as they encountered a battalion of the Baron of Balnor’s men being butchered by a mob of bandits. She shuddered at the memory; there had been so much blood.

  “You’re going to wear the nice mages carpet out if you don’t stop your pacing Kaiden,” she sighed wearily.

  The knight stopped his pacing. His formerly pristine mantle was covered with mud as was his boots; the rest of him looked no better. Alira too was covered in dirt and grime. Her travelling cloak was torn and her trousers had tears in the knees. Their night hiding in the wild woods from a hunting band of sinister looking shades had taken its toll. More than once they had encountered things that should not have been there. The wails of banshees and other fell beasts had haunted the nights highlighting just how low and dangerous the once peaceful kingdom had become.

  “I’m sorry,” Kaiden replied tiredness evident in his voice. “I don’t feel comfortable being in this city. It’s the home of folk that I and my brother knights are often tasked with hunting down... I don’t trust them.”

  Alira stood and placed a hand gently on his arm.

  “I understand,’ She said kindly, ‘you’re feeling what I felt like when I was at the priory” she said comfortingly.

  If she was honest with herself she would have admitted that even being in a city of her kind made her just as nervous as being with the knights. She had never met another mage before, let alone a Grandmaster.

  Kaiden sighed turning to face his young charge. The days on the road had given him a new found respect for the young woman before him. Gone was the scared frightened girl he had met months previously in that cold damp dungeon in Retbit. The time they had spent together in the priory was some of the best times he could ever remember. She had practised with a sword every day until the Knight Masters had deemed her capable enough to risk the roads.

  “I am sorry Alira; I forget that this place is just as strange to you as it is for me. No doubt you will wish to learn all you can about your heritage?” he asked placing his hand upon hers. Her skin was soft and warm.

  They looked into each other’s eyes, a silence passing between them.

  A knock on the oak door broke the tension causing them both to blush. Into the room stepped a tall man in the robes of a master mage. A pleasant smile was on his face as he offered his hand to Kaiden. The knight hesitated before he shook it.

  “Greetings, I am Master Thanos, Grandmaster of the upper ring and Magister of the Mage realm of Caldaria, I welcome you Sir Knight and offer you and your companion shelter in these troubled times. What is ours is yours,” Thanos greeted pleasantly.

  Alira almost gasped when the mage gripped her hand softly, she felt a jolt like that of being stung by a wasp shoot up her arm as his skin made contact with hers. For a brief moment his piercing bright blue eyes widened in surprise. He composed himself quickly. Alira stood stunned, the tingling sensation spreading up her arm.

  “Forgive me for the delay in my meeting with you. As you can hear the celebrations are rather exuberant” Thanos explained with a smile. The distant sound of fireworks and drunken songs could be heard outside of the chambers solitary window.

  “You told my Steward that you were here to look for someone called Luxon? I have taken the liberty to send someone to fetch the only person going by that name in the city,” the Grandmaster queried as he sat in the chair on the opposite side of the crystal desk. When seated he poured himself a cup of wine from a clay jug. Alira blinked...she didn’t recall seeing a jug on the desks surface when they arrived.

  Kaiden sat in one of the chairs and accepted the cup offered to him by Thanos.

  “Yes...This may sound strange but we were sent here by the order to try and find this Luxon person, we believe he can help us find someone,” Kaiden explained shifting uncomfortably under the mages gaze.

  “And how per chance did you learn of this person?” Thanos asked his eyes flicking to Alira.

  Kaiden stammered unsure of what to say. Alira stepped forward.

  “I heard the name in a vision” she said her tone hinting at a challenge. She knew she wasn’t crazy, she knew that the mysterious man before her would understand. Surely the grandmaster of the magic wielders in Delfinnia had similar visions of his own.

  Thanos sat back in his chair his eyebrows arcing in surprise before sting forward and knotting is fingers together.

  “A vision you say?”

  “Yes. A vision. One that has been haunting me more and more over recent days” Alira explained.

  “Truth be told, they are the main reason we are here, to try and discover their meaning,” Kaiden added.

  Thanos looked at the girl with renewed interest. The spark he had felt when he had touched her hand, the strange way in which the magic’s appeared to be distorted around her aura and now the revelation that she had visions. An amused smile briefly touched his lips as he wondered whether the noble knight knew what exactly it was he had been travelling with all this time.

  The door to the chamber opened. Standing in the doorway was Luxon; at his back was the tall Nightblade Welsly. The young lad looked sheepish, nervous; his bright eyes darted around the chamber until they focused on the knight and the strange girl.

  Thanos leaned forward in his seat, slightly curious to see whether his young apprentice would notice something out of place. To his surprise Luxon’s eyes stayed fixed on the girl a tad too long. The boy blushed slightly. Thanos had to restrain a chuckle, he noticed something alright. He noticed her good looks. Boys will be boys.

  “Ah, Welsly Luxon welcome, come in take a seat” Thanos greeted warmly.

  “What’s this about Master?” Luxon asked recognising the mantle worn by the knight. A knot of fear twisted in his gut. All of the apprentices and students knew the story’s of the merciless knights who hunted down their kind.

  Welsly remained standing, he too noticed the knight. His hand drifted lazily to the hilt of his sword.

  Feeling the tension rise in the room Thanos stood and smacked a palm on the crystal table surface.

  “Listen here. These two are our guests. Sir Kaiden serves the order of Niveren, but he is not here to harm anyone. His companion is Alira,’ Thanos explained impatiently, gesturing to the girl, ‘a girl who has been having visions of late. Visions in which you have been mentioned Luxon.”

  The boy took a step back in surprise.

  *

  After a few minutes of awkward introductions and explanations Luxon found himself alone with Alira in the Grandmaster’s chambers. The two sat in silence, he twiddling his fingers, she checking her fingernails for dirt. As to where Thanos, the knight and the Nightblade had gone he didn’t know, but he got the sense that his Master had intended for him to be alone with the girl.

  She was pretty he couldn’t deny that, but she wasn’t a patch on Hannah.

  “You’re younger than I thought” Alira said into the quiet, causing him to jump in surprise. “I thought that you would be some mighty powerful mage, with white hair and a long beard...”

  “...and the ability to shoot fireballs from my arse no doubt” Luxon interjected.

  Alira glared at him. Luxon sighed in annoyance.

  “Listen I don’t know what you and sir what’s his face want with me, but I reckon I’m not the guy you’re looking for. I’m just a lowly apprentice mage who’s no
t even travelled south of the Ridder River.

  “I have dreams too. That’s all your visions are. Just dreams,” he explained, trying to sound authoritative.

  Alira stared daggers at the boy, “you just said you’re nothing but a lowly apprentice... so what do you know about things.’ Her voice rose in pitch as frustration and fear edged into her words. “I haven’t been able to sleep in months, I keep hearing names, seeing things I never want to see and always I see the face with the black eyes.”

  Luxon stared at her in disbelief.

  “You hear names?” he asked quietly.

  Alira nodded. Her golden hair falling into her eyes in the process, she swept it back over her ear.

  “Every night I am told two names.’ She stared at one of the tapestries on the rooms walls. A blue and golden pentacle was emblazoned on a blood red background. It was the Sigel of the first ring of magic. ‘Names that I do not know. Alderlade is one and the other...” she paused and stared at him her eyes were filled with something akin to yearning, a yearning for answers. ‘The other name is Luxon...always Luxon.”

  Luxon looked away from her gaze. He didn’t know what was happening. First, had come his own dreams. Always he had dreamt but now they were growing more vivid, stranger and more terrifying. Then he was told of his unique gift of being a thaumaturgist, a magic wielder able to cast spells just through thought and feelings and now he was being told that he was appearing in the dreams of this strange girl from half a world away.

  *

  The fireworks and the festivities were the perfect cover. Moving quickly through the unsuspecting crowds of drunken revellers the group of men went unchallenged. Their crimson cloaks didn’t stand out on this most festive of evenings. Getting over the city’s crystal walls however had proven problematic but to the Crimson Blades nothing was impossible.

  After walking through alleys and down backstreets the assassins reached their destination. The Arch tower stood strong and tall above the city like a giant. It was now the tallest structure in Delfinnia now that the Sun spire was now just a ruin in SunGuard, a once magnificent structure toppled during the night of tears along with countless other irreplaceable buildings and monuments. Inside the tower was their target.