Heir of the Elements

by Cesar Gonzalez

  Chaos state! No. No. Run, Albert! His insides screamed, but he knew there was no use. Even if Albert could hear him, he doubted he would listen.

  It was Volcseck’s turn to attack. He moved at a staggering speed, closing the distance between himself and his foe in a blink of an eye. They became locked in a series of parries, blocks, and attacks.

  Falcon licked his lips nervously. He knew that it was only a matter of time before his brother was cut down. Volcseck was the faster of the two.

  Then, like a cruel nightmare, Volcseck’s fist made it past Albert’s defense. Albert flew through the air, crashed into a large rock, and dangled over it, blood gushing from his nose and mouth.

  Not one to let his advantage pass him by, Volcseck swooped in to his fallen enemy.

  Stung by the realization that his brother was about to die, Falcon tried to space wield to him, only to have Faith hold him back.

  “You can’t help him in your condition,” she said into his ear. “You’ll only die too.”

  What happened next was quite unexpected. A long spear that seemed to be made out of flesh, complete with pumping veins and arteries materialized in Volcseck’s right hand. As he brought the weapon down, he was shot back by a blur of green power.

  Albert front flipped back to his feet.

  Falcon’s insides surged with relief.

  His brother dug his hands into the dirt, much like an earth wielder. A thunderous snap followed as thousands of rays of wind burst from the ground. The earth crumpled into a thousand pieces as howling winds shot out in straight lines of raw power.

  Falcon covered his eyes, trying to keep the dust that had risen in a mushroom cloud out of his eyes.

  Volcseck tried to escape by teleporting up into the air and firing circular rays of red energy from his hands. Each shot shattered the countless shards of rocks that now littered the battle space.

  Albert’s body was now glowing with a bright green aura, and Falcon knew it was his raw wind power leaking out of him.

  Both wielders met within the vociferous showdown. They flew through the air and crashed into each other. Each time they met, shockwaves of energy would ripple from their bodies, causing the ground to tremble.

  Water sprang from the many ruptures that had been cut through the prairie, sending geysers of liquid high into the clouds.

  “That’s unreal,” remarked a scratchy voice behind him. Falcon spun to find Dunn standing behind him. “I’ve never thought such power was possible. They’re rearranging the entire landscape!”

  “I thought you were dead,” said Falcon.

  Dunn frowned. “Don’t sound too disappointed. I was merely unconscious. It takes more than a chaos wielder to kill me.” He had just finished speaking when he noticed the corpses of Zoen and Rykas. The professor’s hands trembled, and he beat at his chest. “No!” Desperate, he threw himself at Zoen, checking for a pulse.

  Falcon heard what sounded like a low hum at his side. It quickly grew louder as Volcseck teleported beside them. He made one more attempt to grab Faith, only to have Albert ram into him and shove him back.

  The two warriors stood face to face.

  The chaos wielder breathed quick, raspy breaths. Albert did the same. Both of their clothing had been ripped to shreds in numerous places, exposing their muscular physiques.

  “This is not over,” hissed Volcseck. “This battle has given me more than enough information on your abilities. Pray we never bout again, Albert Hyatt, for if we do…” He let his silence drift for a second. “I will end you.”

  A teleport later and the chaos wielder was gone, but Falcon was certain that they had not seen the last of him, not by a long shot.

  Chapter 24

  According to Dunn, Ladria was free. Zoen had led the attack that reclaimed the city. With the absence of Draknorr, it had proved an easy task to overrun the Suteckh forces. After their victory, Zoen had decided to take a small escort to Missea to assist the young Rohads. It was on this trek that they ran into the skirmish against Volcseck. With the extreme energy levels they’d been emitting, it had proven childishly easy to find them.

  The freedom of Ladria should have been welcome news. Falcon could not find himself to smile, though. Not with the nightmare unfolding before his eyes.

  The two coffins rested, lids open at the center of the grand hall. The usual yellow tapestries had been brought down and replaced with dark ones. In the three days since the grandmaster’s death, hundreds of nobles and royals had poured from all around to pay their respects to Zoen. They all stood now, heads down as they crowded the hall.

  Two men and a tall woman, all wearing black robes, stood over the oak wood coffin and laid a dark rose within it. Falcon recognized them as the grandmasters from the other Rohad academies. He wondered how they could have reached Missea so quickly, when he and his friends had struggled so much to do the same. Indeed, being a grandmaster sure made life easier sometimes.

  The trio of grandmasters then moved to the second, red marbled coffin and laid a flower within it as well.

  Once done, they took a seat atop the wooden platform that had been erected at the end of the hall. A somber-faced Empress Latiha made her way to the center of it. She faced the crowd, gathering her breath for a moment.

  Her head rose. “Zoen was a wonderful being and an even greater friend. When I met him a century ago, he was no more than a child, but even then he displayed the qualities that would lead him to become a great man. Qualities like strength, duty, honor, respect, and above all else…compassion…”

  The empress continued her speech. She spoke of Zoen’s time with Aadi. She then went on to tell the story of how a simple beggar boy had risen through the ranks to become the longest serving Rohad Grandmaster. For the next hour she unfolded the story of the man that Zoen had been. How he had amassed a following at Rohad academy, reinvented the rules that catered to the nobles, and formed the strategy that ended the Ladrian war. Falcon zoned out some time into the speech. It wasn’t that he didn’t care. At any other time, he would have given anything to hear these long-forgotten stories of his mentor. With the amount of loss he had experienced, however, he was in no mood for stories of how wise and benevolent Zoen had been. The grandmaster was gone. No amount of kind words was going to change that.

  Despite his lack of enthusiasm for the somber words, they continued on. For the next few hours, one person after another took their time speaking of their experience with Zoen.

  Falcon heard Hiromy clear her throat beside him. She had buried her head in Sheridan’s shirt and was crying quietly. At her side, Faith also let out tears. Aya was the only one who wasn’t crying, though her red eyes told him that she had been crying some time ago. In private, perhaps. Falcon noticed that the blind girl, Empress Keira, stood beside Aya. She rested a comforting hand on Aya’s shoulder. The two massive bears flanked her from each side. The animals bowed their heads as well, making Falcon wondered how the empress had earned such obedience from the savage creatures.

  Why am I thinking about that at a time like this? He shook his head. All the stress was getting to him. Standing idly by was only making things worse, and the more he did it, the more suffocating it became. He felt the walls closing in on him. The people seemed to be moving closer, violating his space.

  Unable to take any more, he darted out of the room, down the palace halls, through the garden, and out into the city.

  Things didn’t get any better. Nature itself seemed to be grieving the fallen grandmaster. The skies were a dark gray. The air was thick and moist, signaling an oncoming thunderstorm. The sobbing people that stood outside the palace made it next to impossible to move.

  “Excuse me!” cried a woman who Falcon had just bumped into.

  “Quit running into people, young man,” complained another woman Falcon had crashed into as well. “Have some respect. Don’t you know that a son of Missea has died?” She looked at him with judgmental eyes. It was the same look he had gotten time and time again as
he grew up in Ladria. That same you’re worthless to the world kind of look.

  In silence, he darted away from the crowd and into an empty alleyway. Where was he going? He himself didn’t know.

  Moments later, in the solemn silence of the outskirts of Missea, Falcon found himself staring through the small open window of a pub. The pub itself didn’t grab his attention. Why should it? It was a plain muddy structure of hay, rocks, and sticks. Even the name of the place, Lowly Scrap Heap, which had been etched into a rock, quite sloppily, screamed of depression and abandonment.

  What did attract Falcon was the man that he saw through the window. Sitting alone at the end of the small room was Albert, sipping slowly from a mug. Every time he drank from it he would gaze at the mug as if it held some deep secret, and then he would set it down and unblinkingly stare at it.

  He opened the door, taking in the scent of moldy seaweed and stale ale.

  Albert looked up, and with a swing of his hand, motioned Falcon to join him.

  The irony of the situation was not lost to Falcon. He had spent many sleepless nights, thinking of the time he would come face to face with his long lost brother. The one everyone was convinced had died in that cave attack. Now here he was. Except, the grand celebration he expected at the time of their meeting was absent. There were no joyful hugs and cheers. Instead, only a few sleeping drunkards and a frail old bartender, who sat behind a counter, would bear witness to this event.

  The first words out of Albert’s mouth only further cemented the anti-climactic aura surrounding this much anticipated event in Falcon’s life.

  “Care for a drink?” he asked.

  “I don’t drink,” said Falcon. “But maybe I can make an exception today.”

  “Hey, Nolan!” called Albert. “A drink for my little brother.”

  Nolan, the old bartender, lifted his head, leaving a web of drool that spread from his mouth to the counter where he had been laying. “H… help yoooorseelf... f.” He pointed to the bottles of rum, wine, and ale behind him. He then lifted his head and took a hard look at Albert. “You have a brother. You never told—” His head suddenly crashed back down as he returned to his rambunctious snores.

  Albert took another slow sip of his drink. “He’s a bit eccentric, but he’s a good man.”

  Falcon searched for the cleanest mug he could find, which wasn’t easy. They all were all dusty with streaks of grime. He finally settled on a small one that seemed to be the cleanest of the bunch. He gave it a swipe with his shirt and helped himself to a brown bottle with the words The Ugly Wielder on the sooty label. The dark liquid rose to the top, fizzing and bubbling as it poured out of the bottle.

  Nolan lifted his head at this. “Watch yourself, boy. I’m trying to run a respectable establishment here. No dirty business.” He scratched his behind as his head dropped to the counter once more. His muffled, slurred speech could still be heard. “You are family of Albert, so I will see it fit to let this pass. He’s a good man. Very good man. Got me and my family out of a tough problem many times. Good man…good man…”

  “He knows you more than I do,” said Falcon, much more accusingly than he had intended. He took a seat and gripped the cold steel of the handle. Quickly, he took a sip. The bitter taste assaulted his taste buds, causing him to gag and spit some of the ale. Not wanting to look a fool, he took another long gulp of the drink, trying his best to retain a straight face.

  “It’s an acquired taste,” said Albert from behind his mug. “Take it slow. There’s no rush.”

  “Is this the part where you impart wise words? I could have used those over the last few years when I was alone, abandoned by my own brother.” He was well aware of the poison in his voice, but he didn’t care. Who was Albert to tell him what to do now, especially after being gone for so long? In another sign of defiance, he took a long swig, downing the remaining ale.

  If Albert was angry, sad, glad, or a combination of these sentiments, Falcon did not know. His features remained passive and unreadable.

  “I really like this place,” his brother said. “It’s quiet, and only a certain kind of people come here.”

  “Yes. I can see that. The owner seems very selective of the people he allows in here.” Falcon took another glance around, his eyes settling on the few hiccupping drunkards.

  “You can jest all you want, but this is a simple place. These are good folk, unlike like so many other you’ll encounter throughout your life. Zoen would have liked this place.”

  “Is that why you’re here and not at his funeral?” As he asked the question, it occurred to Falcon that Albert could not possibly know what Zoen would or would not want. How could he? He’d never even met the man.

  “You’re wondering how I could know what Zoen would want.” said Albert as if reading his mind. It was more of a statement than a question, and Falcon cursed himself for being so easy to read. “I knew Zoen well. After all, it was he who kept me updated on your progress in Ladria.”

  “You checked up on me?”

  “Of course I did. I’m your big brother, am I not? Was I simply supposed to abandon you?”

  His insides fumed. “You did abandon me!” Nolan shot a disapproving glance, causing Falcon to lower his voice. “What was it that you told me that night? ‘Don’t worry. I won’t leave you alone for long.’ Except you never came back. You left me to die in the forest.”

  “Did I now?”

  “Yes.”

  “Didn’t you ever think it strange that K’ran just happened to find you? Didn’t you find it odd that he would just be roaming the woods in the middle of a thunderstorm?”

  Falcon’s silence was all the answer Albert needed, and his brother pressed on. “It was I who told him where to find you. And once you went to Rohad, I kept close communication with Zoen and K’ran. That way I could make sure that you were fine. I must say, I was quite proud of how you handled the situation back at Sandoria.”

  “Zoen and K’ran knew? They knew all along and didn’t tell me?” Betrayal rose in his voice.

  “They didn’t inform you of my whereabouts to protect you. They knew you had bigger problems on your mind. Like controlling your powers, for one.”

  That wasn’t a good enough excuse for Falcon. He had trusted both K’ran and Zoen. How could they have withheld this from him? He felt a cold, precise anger toward the man before him. He wanted to hurt him, to make him pay for everything he’d been through.

  “I get that you’re angry at us, and frankly you have the right to be. In time, I’m sure you will see that we were correct to withhold this from you. It would have only caused more problems being associated with a wanted criminal. You didn’t need that.”

  “Why didn’t you just take me with you?”

  “And do what? Live your life running and hiding? No. I was cursed with that life, but that didn’t mean you had to be.”

  “It is true, then?” asked Falcon. In his mind he replayed that morning, when the guards had told him that his brother had murdered the Ladrian council. He recalled the smell of wet dirt as the bloodied corpses were carried away. “You did kill them?”

  “Yes.” He took a gulp and sighed. “I did.”

  “Why?”

  “I see no use in reliving a past that is long dead.”

  “I do. I stayed up many nights wondering why you did it.”

  Albert studied him for a long time before finally speaking. “The members of the Ladrian council were planning a revolt. They had control over a large branch of the army, but they needed a commander.”

  “You?” asked Falcon. He finally understood why the council had asked for his brother all those night ago.

  “Yes. They wanted me to lead a coup and take over the city. That was something I could never do.”

  “Why kill them, though? You could have just said no.”

  “If I had declined their offer, they would have simply found another commander. Once that happened Ladria would have been thrust into a civil war that woul
d have claimed thousands of lives.” He took a long breath. “There was an unflinching desire in them to rule. I saw it in their eyes. Their souls had been corrupted by the promise of power. For them, the death of their citizens was a small price to pay. I couldn’t allow that. So I did what I had to…I eradicated the corruption at its core.”

  “Except you didn’t,” countered Falcon. He told him of Councilman Nakatomi’s claim that it had been he who had caused the demise of the council.

  Surprisingly, Albert took this news in stride. Did he already know?

  Albert brought his hand to his chin, rubbing it for some time before speaking. “That would make sense. I had my suspicions that someone else was orchestrating the plot from the shadows but never had any strong leads as to who it could have been.”

  “There is still something I still don’t understand,” said Falcon. “You took off your mask for me once, remember? You looked different than you do now.” He pointed at the space emblem. “How long have you been a space wielder?”

  Wordlessly, Albert stood and served himself from one of the bottles behind the counter. When he returned, he said, “Grandmaster Zoen put a mind charm around me, so when people saw me they would see someone else. It wasn’t always on, however, which is why it was important that I stay masked most of the time. Also, there was always the possibility that another mind wielder could detect the charm and figure out who I was. Which is why I stayed away as much as I could. When Zoen died, well, I suppose his charm wore off.” He caressed the deep blue emblem with shooting stars coursing through it. “As for this. I would have thought it was fairly obvious. I’m a dual wielder. It was something I didn’t discover until long after I had left.”

  Falcon shook his head. He wasn’t quite sure what he was feeling, but of one thing he was sure. He didn’t want to be anywhere near his brother at the moment. He had gotten answers, which was all he’d wanted.

  “Little brother,” said Albert, taking his hand. Falcon pulled away. “Don’t go through life thinking you were the only who suffered. Everyone in this world has their own tribulations to face.”