Heir of the Elements

by Cesar Gonzalez

  “He killed the council of Ladria and disappeared.”

  “Disappeared?” Chonsey fidgeted his fingers. “I know your brother was crazy powerful and all, but he went up against the entire royal wielders battalion single handedly. And they used black fire on him. I don’t think disappeared is the word for it, mate.”

  “He’s not dead, if that’s what you’re trying to say.” Falcon’s anger rose. How could his friend not be on his side? “What are you trying to say? Do you also think my brother is a traitor? That he killed the council to take power for himself?”

  Chonsey, who up until now had been normal in color, turned ghostly pale. “No, mate. I’m sure your brother was…”

  “There you go again! Was! Don’t speak in the past tense about him. He’s not dead.”

  “What’s going on?” asked a honeyed voice.

  Falcon gazed over at Faith who had arrived with a bushel of green leaves. He collected himself. The last thing he needed was to make Faith sad again. “Nothing. We were just talking about some unimportant stuff.”

  She tossed the greens into a pot that rested atop an open flame. “If you say so, but it sure didn’t seem like nothing.” She took out a small bag and spread salt into the pot, followed by granules of pepper. With a large wooden stick, she stirred the broth in circles. “I hope you boys are hungry.”

  Falcon caught a whiff of the sour smell and immediately recognized it as Gladios plants. How many days are we going to eat the same old thing?

  “Will we be having any meat with that?” asked Chonsey, a second before Falcon could voice that same question.

  “Meat?” asked Faith, in a voice that made it seem as if the concept of eating animal flesh was alien to her.

  “Yes,” added Falcon. “We know you’re a vegetarian and all, but Chonsey and I would rather have meat with our soup. A nice squirrel or a lit, perhaps.”

  “Hmmm…” Chonsey licked his lips. “Lit legs are the best, especially with some larys syrup.”

  Falcon’s stomach growled viciously at the thought.

  Faith’s face, on the other hand, was one of absolute repulsion. “There is no need for that. Plants have much more nutrition than any slab of meat can ever have. Don’t tell me you haven’t felt much more energized this past month?”

  He had indeed felt much more alert than usual, but he honestly didn’t care. He wanted meat. Nonetheless, he remained quiet.

  Chonsey, apparently, had chosen to follow Falcon’s example. He sat down and grudgingly forced down the thick liquid. When he finished his bowl, Chonsey smiled to himself, as if he had just won a great duel. His smile turned into a frown when Faith poured more soup into his bowl and insisted that he eat to keep his energy up.

  “Well, I say we leave now,” said Falcon as he finished his second bowl. He stood before Faith could offer another serving.

  “Yes, that sounds like a plan, mate.” Chonsey also stood.

  Faith dumped the leftover liquid on the ground and handed Chonsey the pot. He tied it to his waist and they continued on their trek. The closer they got to Ladria, the quieter the surroundings became. The distant bird chirpings and soft squirrel footsteps gave way to an eerie silence.

  “Why is it so quiet?” asked Faith.

  “It always gets that way close to Ladria,” Chonsey said. “A lot of the hunters hunt close to the city walls. Most animals have learned to stay clear. Those who don’t, well…” He stopped and took a long sniff. “Were here. C’mon.” He snuck under a long tree branch and beside a thick bush. He moved the dusty leaves to the side. “There.”

  Falcon’s heart dropped to his stomach as he made out the charred corpses. They hung from above the city walls. Someone had nailed them to a log and erected them for the world to see. “So that’s what that smell was.”

  “Oh. That’s horrible. Why would they do such a thing?” Faith looked as if she was on the verge of tears.

  “To send a message,” said Falcon, speaking in a hushed whisper. “The Suteckh want the world to know what happens when they are opposed.”

  Chonsey pointed into the city gates. “That’s not even the worst of it.”

  Faith whimpered softly. This time tears poured to the ground as she mumbled something to herself.

  Falcon’s rage intensified as his eyes settled on the dozens of children who were tied on the ground with thick chains. All of them wore no shirt, exposing their bony ribs. It was one thing to attack adults. But children? This was a new level of evil.

  “No, mate,” cried Chonsey, holding Falcon back. “Stay back. You’re going to give away our position.”

  “I don’t care,” fumed Falcon, his insides blazing. “I’m going to free those kids. They’re on the brink of death.”

  “Don’t you think people already tried that? For every rescue attempted, the Suteckh kill five children. No rescue has even come close to being successful, not with him here.”

  “Him? Who are you talking about?”

  “The dual wielder, of course. The right hand of the Blood Empress—Draknorr.”

  Falcon settled back down. Draknorr. That is bad news. He recalled his previous encounter with the powerful wielder. Even in chaos state, Falcon had proved no match for him.

  “How could this happen?” whimpered Faith. “I thought Grandmaster Zoen lived here in Ladria. My father always spoke highly of his ability. Surely he could put a stop to it.”

  “Zoen wasn’t here at the time of the attack, and neither were most of the professors from Rohad and the Royal Academy. They were on the other side of Va’siel at the annual academies council.”

  “Do it!” thundered a voice from afar.

  From behind the bush, Falcon recognized the large man who now stood at the foot of a child.

  “Dad,” muttered Chonsey, surprised. “I think he’s doing it, he’s going to save the—” Commander Meloth kicked a small girl, sending her rolling across the floor. The dangling chain echoed loudly as the girl clutched her stomach. Chonsey looked on with a slackened mouth. “D-Dad? What is he doing?”

  Falcon was just as shocked as Chonsey. Commander Meloth had always been a tough man, but he’d never known him to be a traitor to his own city.

  “Harder!” thundered the same voice from before. “If you don’t follow directions, I’ll kill her. Slowly.” An armored figure emerged from the side of the commander. He had two long claws protruding from his right hand. His entire face was hidden behind a dark helmet. Only two red eyes glistened from under the visor.

  “Yes, of course.” Chonsey’s father trudged over to the girl. He leaned down and picked her up by the neck. He pulled his fist back and slammed it into the girl’s face. With a loud whimper, the girl fell hard to the stone ground. Blood and a number of teeth slipped out of her mouth.

  Draknorr faced the commander. “Remember this next time you come begging for food for the children. Now be gone with you.”

  Commander Meloth bowed his head. “Yes, sir.”

  Falcon’s balled fists turned a pale white. “Draknorr. I’ll make him pay. I swear it. I’ll make him pay.”

  “But how?” asked Faith, wiping away her tears.

  “We need to free those kids, but we also need to find the emperor.” Chonsey said. “He escaped. I’m sure wherever he is, he’ll be glad to take in the kids.”

  “But the emperor is gone, mate. No one knows where he is.”

  Falcon thought for a moment. Someone had to know something. How could the emperor simply disappear without anyone knowing his whereabouts? The longer he puzzled over the question, the more apparent it became that he was going to have to turn to him. His stomach cringed at the realization that he had no other choice. He swallowed his pride as he made up his mind.

  He tapped his friend’s shoulder. “Hey.”

  “What? What?” Chonsey’s breathing was still shallow, no doubt because of what he had witnessed his father do.

  “You snuck out of the city to find me. I need you to take me to the hidden ent
rance you used.”

  Chonsey’s eyes stared off into the distance.

  Falcon took a hold of him and turned him so that they were face to face. “Chonsey!”

  His pupils returned to normal. “Em…yes, mate. The entrance. Y…yes. Follow me.” He led them around the stone gate, which took most of the morning since the city was so large. It was midday when they arrived at the small cracked opening. Chonsey took a seat by a tree stump. “I’ll wait here. I can’t go in there after what I saw.” He reached into his small bag and tossed two dirt-caked cloaks to Falcon. “You may need them.”

  Falcon patted his friend’s back. He was actually glad Chonsey had volunteered to stay back. This mission might easily develop into a fight, and that was something that Chonsey, unfortunately, was useless in. “We’ll be back before you know it.”

  Both wielders put on the brown cloaks and forced themselves through the small opening. The offensive smell of feces made his nose crinkle. Now he knew why no one had found this passage. It was in the sewer system.

  Faith brought her hand over her nose. “Now what?”

  Falcon took in the dark slushy water that travelled slowly down, deeper into the darkness. Moldy walls arched over them. A narrow slimy path was the only way out of this cursed place. “Now we go pay an old friend of mine a visit.”

  “Friend?”

  He sighed. The memory was not one he liked to recount. “Yes. He was my friend years ago, back when my brother was still famous and loved by everyone. I was twelve at the time. We would always go down to the river to play. During the winters we would spend our days in the alleys of Ladria, pretending to be the Golden Wielder.”

  “What happened?”

  “When my brother killed the council, everyone turned on me, even him.”

  “Oh.”

  “It didn’t stop there. One night, when I was living with K’ran, I snuck out to the city to spend time with him. I thought he’d be glad to see me, but instead he and his gang of friends ambushed me. I couldn’t walk straight for a month after the beating they gave me.”

  Faith’s face twisted in confusion. “So why are we going to go see him now?”

  “Because he took over his father’s pub. You’d be surprised how much information drunk people will reveal.” He smirked. “If there’s something you need to know, you can wager that he’ll know something about it.” Falcon cracked his knuckles. “We’ll find him and force him to tell us what he knows.”

  “Or we could just ask nicely.”

  “No. Trust me, Faith. Violence is all this guy knows. A good beat down should get me the information I need. That’s the plan, at least.” He took a tentative step forward, careful not to lose control on the slimy surface. “Well, that and not falling in the river of gunk.”

  Faith cringed. “Yes, I would say that not falling is a sound plan.”

  Chapter 3

  Falcon’s eyes darted around Ladria as they crawled out of the sewers. From outside he had only a small view of the city, but now that he stood inside the gates, he saw how bad it really was. The small cottages that usually spread in even rows had all been burnt down, leaving only heaps of dark rubble. Suteckh soldiers, dressed in their usual black and silver leather uniforms, walked through the streets. Many of them held mugs in their hands, no doubt filled with wine. Countless Ladrian citizens sat huddled in corners, their terrified eyes following the passing soldiers. The few citizens who milled around the streets kept their eyes on the dirt-paved ground as they moved.

  A husky Suteckh soldier caressed the skull emblem etched on his chest. He belched loudly as he tossed a half-eaten pichion drumstick to the ground. Immediately, a skinny woman with dark bags under her eyes crawled to it on all fours. She took the miserable scrap of meat and scurried back to the corner she had been settled in. Without bothering to clean it, she offered it to a young boy who sat by her side. The boy, who was no doubt her son, devoured it in seconds.

  “Hey,” said the fat soldier. “I wasn’t finished with that.” He stumbled over to the burnt wall, where the woman sat, clutching her son. “Do you think you can simply take a mighty Suteckh soldier’s food whenever you feel like it?” He scratched his behind as he spoke. “Well, do you?”

  “N…no, of course not. You t-threw it on the ground–”

  “And you got greedy.” The man took out a whip that hung on his waist. He unrolled it, causing the woman to crawl deeper into the corner of the wall. The rest of the people watched in silence, their faces ashen.

  The woman looked around, as if begging for help. Once she saw that no one was coming to her aid, she faced her attacker. “I only want to feed my son. I didn’t mean any disrespect.”

  The soldier threw the whip into the air, causing it snap loudly. “So now you’re saying that the dry grit we give you every week isn’t good enough. Maybe after this beating I should also take your son to the gates to be tied like the rest of those dogs. Their parents got greedy too, and now their children are paying.”

  “No!” cried the woman. She hugged her sobbing son protectively. “Not my little Aaron.”

  “Enough!” He moved his hand and brought the whip forward with tremendous force.

  Having heard enough, Falcon moved forward and took hold of the whip in mid-stride. There was a collection of gasps from the people.

  The guard turned. The flabby skin hanging from under his skin dangled viciously. “Who dares? Remove that cloak and face me like a man.”

  “You like hitting defenseless women, do you now?” asked Falcon. He pulled the whip away from the man’s hands and tossed it to the ground.

  “Why, I’ll teach you to raise your hand to a mighty Suteckh arghhh….”

  The man crumpled to the floor as Falcon punched him in his oversized cranium. Falcon then grabbed the whip and used it to tie him by his legs.

  “What are you doing?” asked Faith. “He’s not going to be happy once he wakes up.”

  “That’s fine,” said Falcon, taking another look around. There were no other soldiers in sight. “This will be the least of his problems when he comes to.” He pulled the man across the ground and into the sewers, which was harder than he had initially thought it was going to be. The man easily weighed over three hundred pounds. Once inside the dark tunnel, he untied his feet and kicked him into the feces-infested waters.

  “What the?” The man eyes opened wide. “What’s going on? Where am—” He closed his mouth as a stream of gunk slushed into his mouth. He spat the vile liquid as he flailed his arms in a fruitless attempt to swim against the current, which was now flowing much faster than before.

  Falcon waved. “See you.” Once the man had disappeared in the darkness, he made his way out onto the city streets.

  “That was very reckless, Falcon,” said Faith. “Nice but reckless.”

  Falcon shrugged. “Well, I had to do something. Let’s see how tough he is when he comes out at the end of the sewage system in the center of the Jugtungla Jungle.”

  “Oh my god!” shrieked the woman. “You’re Falcon Hyatt.” She crawled to the rest of the people. “I knew the stories of you being a nefarious good for nothin’ were not true.”

  “Let’s hear it for Falcon,” said Aaron in a small voice. “The hero of Ladria.”

  The crowd of people began to cheer his name. They started out low, but their voices grew with every second that passed.

  Faith looked around nervously. “This isn’t good. They’re going to draw unwanted attention.”

  “Shh…” said Falcon, but he might as well have told him to get louder, because the cheers intensified.

  “Falcon. Falcon. Falcon!”

  “We have to go,” said Falcon. He took Faith’s hand and marched quickly down the road. Two soldiers, who had apparently heard the commotion, passed them as they headed toward the cheers.

  “Where are we going?” asked Faith. “Is the pub close?”

  “Somewhat. This is the poor district. Braden’s pub is in the noble distri
ct. Let’s just hope we don’t run into any trouble along the way.”

  The way out to the noble part of town was littered with soldiers milling around. From time to time one of them would look over at Falcon and Faith, but none stopped to question them.

  “We’re getting close,” said Falcon as they left the dirt roads behind and entered the stone-paved paths. Unlike those in the poor district, the homes in this area were still in one piece. Some had shattered glass or knocked down doors, but they were still standing.

  “I wonder why they didn’t burn down these houses?” asked Faith.

  “They’re using them for quarter,” said Falcon. “It’s a common tactic practiced during sieges. They will burn down everything, except what they plan to use.” They turned the corner and entered the bazaar street. The usual shouting vendors and their stands that littered the streets were nowhere in sight. A group of soldiers were huddled at the side of the street, drinking and playing a game of stones.

  “There aren’t a lot of citizens in this area,” said Faith as they quietly made their way down.

  “You’re right,” said Falcon, noticing the same thing as well. “Maybe they were all killed.”

  Faith gasped silently. “I hope not.”

  “You wouldn’t say that if you knew them,” said Falcon, remembering how nobles had treated the peasant class. “They were mostly a lot of cruel bigots.”

  “Don’t say that. I’m sure many of them were lovely people.”

  “Aha,” said Falcon sarcastically. “Very lovely.”

  “Is that it?” asked Faith. She pointed to a wooden building on the left side of the street. Dozens of barrels were stacked atop each other, covering most of the windows. Above the oak door hung a sign held by a dusty rope. The dangling sign had an etching of a snake with the words ‘The Galloping Viper’ above it.

  “Yes,” said Falcon. An empty pit in his stomach grew with every step he took. He hadn’t seen Braden in years. Would he even recognize him? He held his breath as he pushed the creaky door open. The pub was filled with soldiers. Many sat at the front bar; a few others sat in tables with drinks in their hands. None of them bothered to look up at the newcomers.