Dawn of the Valiant (The Valerious Chronicles: Book One)

by Julian Saheed

Footsteps echoed through the dimly lit passage as the figure made his way to the meeting room. Each step made by the hooded man boomed loudly throughout the complex, followed closely by the loud crack of his staff on the cold stone floor. Years of grime covered the walls in a moist and unclean façade that heightened their uneven shape. These corridors had been carved out of the core of the world itself, so deep underground that the Master's slaves had burrowed well past the roots of the tallest trees. No craftsmen had worked these tunnels, and only a select few knew exactly how they had come to be. Yet those that did rarely left the complex with their sanity intact, let alone alive. A forbidding place it remained, where the screams of the tormented carried through the endless halls, long after their torture had ceased.

  The figure kept a steady pace. He walked towards a door at the end of the passage, marked by a fading torch, held up by a rusted holder. His long robes swept the thick layer of dirt on the ground into the air behind him with each stride, creating a cloud of dust in his wake.

  An agonizing scream pierced the silence of the corridor, but he did not flinch. There were many who would cower on the floor in the face of such a frightful cry, but not he. He would fear no evil from the forbidden rooms of this complex, for he was the master of it all. The one who had begun the experimentations. The one who had created the devices that brought horrifying pain to the thousands that would never again see the light of the surface world.

  Reaching the door, he raised his hand to turn the knob and open the secret entrance. The door slowly swung inside causing a chilling creak to fill the air, as the hinges that had long gone unused struggled to move. The two figures inside turned towards the bookcase which had swung away from the back wall of the room and watched the robed man enter.

  "Zephra! I should have guessed as much," said Aldan Hermagoras from the centre of the room, making no effort to hide his vexation.

  A scowl appeared on Zephra's face as he walked over to the long wooden table that was the rooms centrepiece. "Gourc, that will be all. I will send for you later," he said calmly, to his loyal servant.

  The third figure in the room, an unsavoury man with a hunched stature and a face full of scars and boils, nodded and hobbled out of the room through the main door. Zephra motioned for Aldan to take a seat, but the duke of Vladistov waved the offer away. Zephra took his own seat and rested his thin black staff against his shoulder. He took a moment to study the man standing before him. Aldan had a slim build and a plain face, with short black hair and thick black eyebrows. This man was no threat to him whatsoever.

  "What is this place?" said Aldan nervously, feeling uncomfortable under Zephra's unsettling gaze.

  "You do not need to know," said Zephra plainly. "I brought you here to talk, not for a tour of my estates."

  Aldan's eyes narrowed. "There is a hidden evil in this place. I can smell the fear, the air is rank with it. Why did you bring me here? My home in Vladistov is secure enough to talk, if that is truly your intent."

  "I have no time to travel to Vladistov, so I had you brought to me. It was something that had to be done."

  "You could have simply used your magic to speed yourself there," pressed Aldan.

  "I could not expend that much of my power today, there are tasks that will require all of my attention," said Zephra, frustration rising in his tone.

  Aldan decided not to push the argument further. "Your minions blindfolded me for most of the trip," said Aldan angrily. "Is this how you treat your guests?"

  "I cannot give away the location of my most valued works," replied Zephra. "Not even to you, Cousin."

  Aldan shuddered at the mention of his link with Zephra. No matter how hard he tried to change things, the same blood that flowed through Zephra's veins would always flow in his. Aldan's father Friedrich Hermagoras II had underestimated Zephra and had paid the price for it. "Well for what purpose did you bring me here?"

  "First sit," motioned Zephra. "I hate it so when someone paces around the room whilst I talk to them."

  Aldan took a seat, not wishing to anger Zephra. He was known to lose his temper easily, which had led to the unfortunate death of many innocent men.

  "Now firstly I believe we should clear something," started Zephra. "I received word that you still speak ill of Luschia's attack on Feldom."

  Aldan shifted nervously in his seat. "I was merely speaking my mind to my own council members," he rebutted.

  "Speaking your mind can lead to a rebellion! If one ruler speaks ill of my decisions, then I could have an entire city defect from my campaign. And that is a delay that I will not suffer," he said menacingly.

  "I was only saying that in my opinion, Luschia's destruction of the Feldonian village was too ruthless. He left no souls alive."

  "No one alive means no witnesses," Zephra pointed out. "The foolish westerners still haven't realised that we were behind the attack."

  Aldan nodded. Although the attack was a heinous crime against the women and children that had died, he had to admit that Luschia's strike on the small village of Carlor had been tactically brilliant. "That was a long time ago now. Is Luschia's fleet ready?"

  "Not yet, I have asked him to double it," said Zephra casually.

  Aldan gasped. "Double it. That would take years."

  "Luschia will be able to do it quicker. His construction yards in Sinsai are unmatched. The entire city has been dedicated to his warships."

  "But this will mean that you will have to postpone the war until Luschia's armies are complete," criticized Aldan.

  Zephra shook his head. "That I cannot do. I will not permit the Feldonians any more time to prepare. Our armies will march within the month."

  "You would be foolish to send our men over the Ranges so soon. Sinsai holds more than half of Dargon's troops. Without Luschia and his forces, the chances of victory are slim," said Aldan.

  "That is why I need your men. Vladistov is the only city that has not pledged its army to our cause. You can change this," said Zephra. He stared at Aldan, with a scowl. No matter how much he despised his younger cousin, he would need his loyalty to avoid any interruptions. Zephra then smiled. If everything went according to plan tonight, that would only prove a temporary hassle. Yet it paid to cover one's back. Aldan's popularity amongst the Dargonian people meant that Vladistov's defection from the war could lead the minor dukedoms to follow, and that was unacceptable.

  Aldan sat solemnly in his chair, thinking on his options. "I can't give you Vladistov's armies, Zephra. My people do not want any part of the coming bloodshed. They have all seen enough strife in their lives."

  Zephra's brow lowered further. "This is quite disappointing, Cousin. I had hoped that you were a strong leader. A leader who knew what was best for his people and made his own decisions, without listening to the petty complaints of the commoners. The people of Vladistov have no say in this, only the ruler of the city does." He leant over the table and stared forebodingly at Aldan. "Are you still the ruler, Cousin?...Or have you given that power to your citizens?"

  Aldan's eyes flared. "Watch your tongue, Zephra. I am still in charge of Vladistov and I hold the key to your victory in my hands. Vladistov's armies are stronger than you think, and they will stand against you if necessary."

  Zephra began to laugh. "You hold nothing in your hands. I can win this war without your help. There are things I have long planned that you know nothing of. I am simply offering you a chance to bask in the glory of victory when I sack Precedin and raise our flag on its western wall."

  Aldan shook his head. "You are a fool to try to attack Precedin. The city is unbreakable. You would lose thousands just trying to cross the lake."

  "We will cross the lake and then scale the walls, and then we will kill every living creature inside of that god forsaken city and finally claim it for Dargon."

  "You dream, Zephra. Not even you with your strongest magic could you break down those walls," said Aldan.

  "I do not plan to break the wall. The city will remain
intact, but every Feldonian standing in the way of my army as it enters will die," he said, with a fierce voice. "Enough of this! Will you support this war or not."

  Aldan saw the anger flaring in Zephra's eyes. A wrong move and he would likely not leave this place with his life. "Vladistov will aid you in your cause," he said reluctantly. Zephra smiled gleefully. "But we will not send troops to war. We will only send supplies," added Aldan quickly.

  Zephra stopped smiling and narrowed his eyes. "Very well, Cousin. I accept your offer, as petty as it is. But this little act of disobedience will not go unnoticed."

  Aldan rose from his chair and walked to the door, trying to avoid Zephra's angry gaze. Zephra knocked his staff on the ground four times, the loud bangs echoing through the complex. Moments later Gourc opened the door with a blindfold in his hand and led Aldan out of the room.

  Zephra stood up and faced Aldan as he left, "Be wary, Cousin. Tonight it all begins."

  Aldan turned around as Zephra finished and wondered what his cousin meant by that. His vision was then taken away as Gourc wrapped the blindfold tightly around his head.