The Chronicle

by David F. Farris

  Atarax looked up from the young man’s body and stared at the Jestivan. “You are an anomaly, Rhyparia. Don’t expect others to do what you do. Even Rayne and Saikatto have limits.” He looked back at Prakriti. “We’ll make this work. Therapif, how long before he can make use of his energy again?”

  As Therapif wrapped Prakriti’s chest, he said, “A week.”

  Kakos sat down, his eyes focused on Rhyparia with intrigue. “I guess we’ll find out just how important your training with Musku was. It all falls on you until Prakriti is up and running again.”

  “Don’t worry about me,” she said.

  20

  Throno

  Himitsu, Fane, Horos, and their new friend, Kaylee, followed a narrow fissure that cut through the middle of Bliss Peaks. With the mountains squeezed tight around them, it was difficult for the sun to reach the travelers. It was the most pleasant factor of the trek—there was nothing more unforgiving than the Archaic Kingdom’s blistering heat.

  They each nursed injuries given to them by officers who had tried to stop them from escaping Balle. Since the assassins couldn’t have their true identities discovered, they couldn’t adopt Kaylee by normal means. They didn’t have proof of their names, careers, or historical backgrounds. The other alternative was to pay for her, but the amount they had requested was absurd. Himitsu, Fane, and Horos didn’t have that kind of money lying around—not here, at least.

  This left one option on the table, and it was one they had grown used to. They had waited for nightfall to use the blackened sky and their flames to execute a kidnap mission ... which sounded bad. Needless to say, the transition from escaping the orphanage to fleeing the city hadn’t been as smooth as desired.

  None of them had any clue as to how far they had progressed through the dried up fissure. There were no markings or notable natural formations that acted as directional or progression signs; this wasn’t intended to be a traversable pathway.

  The stillness of the mountains combined with the group’s silence had become lulling. It took a piercing cry reverberating against the mountainsides to wake them fully. They looked up toward the sky but saw nothing. It wasn’t until they heard the scream behind them that they all turned.

  A falcon bore down on them, the ends of its wings skimming the rocky walls on either side. It screeched once more, looking like it was going to fly right through them. But as it neared, its path arched upward, and it dropped a miniature scroll at their feet.

  Himitsu pounced on the parcel, quickly unraveling the note.

  “Slow down there, buddy,” Horos teased, chuckling softly.

  The young Jestivan didn’t care how desperate he seemed. He figured this was a message from his mom. Turned out he was right.

  Hello, boys. I know where you’re headed. I want to warn you. Forces have been sent across the kingdom to cover every city and town in efforts to find me, Elyol Brekton being one of them. He’s headed to Throno. Be on the lookout. I love you, boys.

  P.S. Hello, new girl.

  Himitsu handed it to his dad. “I guess they don’t know about what happened in Balle.”

  Horos read through it and passed it to Fane. “Well, we still can’t risk slowing down. Who says they’re not chasing us?”

  Fane sighed. “I was hoping to avoid any physical altercations.”

  “Are you ready for a rendezvous with the son of the late great Chief General Inias Brekton?” Kaylee asked. “I’ve heard the stories of his consecutive wins over the years at the Generals’ Battles.”

  Himitsu let out a single booming laugh that might have shaken the mountaintops. “Yet you haven’t heard the stories of the great Himitsu Vevlu?”

  Kaylee stared at the young man, his hands on his hips and a lazy coolness in his gaze. After a moment, she began heading southeast again, not even entertaining his charade with a response.

  Horos punched his son’s shoulder. “Real smooth, kid. Reminds me of my moves on your mom back at Phesaw.”

  Fane laughed as the three men followed Kaylee. “And that’s why she dated someone else for three entire years before giving you a chance.”

  “Don’t listen to him, son.”

  * * *

  Night came by the time the fissure’s walls turned into the gentler slopes of the mountainside’s lower elevations. The group seized a chance for sleep, veering off the path and situating themselves amongst the shrubbery. Himitsu lay close to Kaylee, keeping his eyes open. He was stalling, waiting for Fane and Horos to fall asleep.

  Once he heard the old men snoring, he turned toward Kaylee and asked, “How is it that you know what people are feeling?”

  She rolled over to look at him. “Simple explanation,” she said. She closed her right eye, exposing only the hazel one. “Everything looks normal.” She then opened her left eye, exposing silver. “Now I see that you’re intrigued, and becoming more so by the second.”

  “So your silver eye has special abilities,” Himitsu said.

  She smiled ruefully. “This eye isn’t mine, silly.” She reached for her face and squeezed her eye. Himitsu cringed as she dug into her socket. After a brief struggle, she opened her hand and revealed an eyeball. “This is my ancient. Neeko said he gave a gift to each of his ‘special students.’ This was what he gave me.”

  “That’s so cool!” he whispered.

  She giggled and rolled onto her back. “And you mean that. Wow.” She plopped her eyeball back into her socket. “You are strange.”

  “How does it work? Do big letters float above my head and spell out an emotion?”

  Another giggle escaped, this time more maniacal. She clasped her hands over her mouth and rolled to the opposite side. Her back faced him, her tunic pulled up slightly, exposing the smooth skin of her lower back. His face burned hot. Was that all it took for him to feel this flustered?

  She turned back, and Himitsu quickly yanked his cloak over his head.

  “Oh. There’s that lust again. The crimson shades swirling from your body tell no lies.”

  He peeked over his collar and asked, “What is that? My aura?”

  “Precisely.”

  “Whenever you find a home far away from this kingdom, you should become a gambler. You would thrive in cities like Oro or Ipsa. No poker face would work on you.”

  “I wouldn’t stoop to such gimmicks,” she said. “Besides, I study chemistry for a reason. I have my future career laid out already.”

  Himitsu’s nose wrinkled as if he had smelled something foul. “Chemistry? So you’re as smart as Agnos or Lilu.”

  “I don’t know either of them.”

  “Friends of mine. Maybe one day you’ll meet them.”

  She brushed her listless bangs behind her ear and smiled. “Maybe.” After a brief pause, she said, “I’m going to be an apothecary. I know a lot about chemicals and herbs, but I lean toward the former.”

  “Did Neeko teach you that, too?” Himitsu asked with a playful tone.

  She grinned. “I see the sarcasm, but the answer is yes ... kind of. Just like he did with his previous three students, when he made me read those books a second time through, he told me to pay attention to what subjects held my interest the most. Once I found out it was chemistry and medicine, he told me to become a healer and make something of myself by helping others.”

  Himitsu shook his head. “This Neeko guy sounds too good to be true.”

  “Neeko knows all. He knows more than he tells people, including his students. Without stepping outside, he’s traveled farther than most, too.”

  “Is that some sort of riddle?” Himitsu asked. “Like he’s traveled through the experiences he’s gained from reading?”

  “You wouldn’t understand what I mean,” she said. “The Warpfinate only opens its depths to those who seek them.”

  “Phesaw’s library?” Himitsu asked. “What does that—”

  She hushed him, bringing her finger to her mouth. “Those who do not seek, shall not know.”

  * * * />
  They continued their journey through the Bliss Peaks the following day, slowing their pace so that daylight would subside by the time they reached the exit. Since Throno sat in close proximity to the mountains, they’d commence their entry the moment they spotted the city.

  “Throno’s lake sits on its south side,” Fane said. “Every other side is protected by nothing but soldiers. We can’t resort to anything fancy here like we did with the bridge into Balle.”

  They stood in the wide open, but it was too dark for them to be seen from the city.

  “But that works in our favor,” Himitsu said. “With the bridge, we had one bottleneck entry. Now we have a wide swathe of land to work with. Forces are thinner in certain areas than others. This should be easy.”

  Horos pat his son’s shoulder. “Good critical thinking skills. Getting in will be easy.”

  Kaylee looked at the three assassins skeptically. “And as for getting out?”

  “That’ll be the trick,” Horos said. “Follow our flames, Kaylee. Himitsu will stay close to you.”

  A wall of black streaked across the meadow and walled off their vision. Himitsu grabbed Kaylee’s wrist. “I hope you know what you got yourself into,” he said.

  “Into the extraordinary and away from the mundane.”

  He smiled at her, and then they ran like the wind.

  21

  Number Eight

  Toono was alone. After crossing the Shindo River yesterday, Yama and Kadlest had split away from him. Like Illipsia, they had their own responsibilities elsewhere. He only hoped that the two women could put their differences aside and operate cohesively.

  Toono sat in the uppermost branches of the cherry blossoms in Cherry Forest, waiting for the arrival of the cavalry and infantrymen responsible for escorting the most important person in the Adren Kingdom: King Supido. Like Toono’s approach with Passion King Damian a couple years ago, he would resort to guerilla tactics. The method of his attack wouldn’t require a body of water this time, but it’d still involve the element of surprise.

  His travel bag lay ahead of him on his branch. It was untied, allowing the severed head of Dimiourgos a little bit of sunlight before Toono closed it again.

  “Do you not grow tired of killing people?” Dimiourgos asked.

  Toono leaned back against the tree and stared at the lynx. “I grew tired of it long ago, while it was still only an idea. It didn’t take me killing someone to realize I wasn’t going to like it.”

  “Yet here you are, preparing for your eighth sacrifice with the calmest nature I’ve ever seen.”

  “As long as I keep my mind on my goal, I can ignore the grief.”

  “That alone should scare you,” Dimiourgos said.

  Toono nodded. “It does at times. Grief was an insufferable weight that used to constrict my chest when I’d kill. But at least it reminded me of my human side. With the weakening of that sensation over the past year, my heart has drifted deeper into a monstrous abyss.”

  “I hope whatever it is that you’re chasing is worth it,” Dimiourgos mumbled. “You are a damaged man, which has made you desperate. Such men tend to bring more evil to the world than they can imagine.”

  The distant sound of trotting hooves saved Toono from the uncomfortable conversation. He leaned forward and found a clear sight line through the pink petals surrounding him. He spotted Spirit Road’s bend before it disappeared behind the more congested areas of Cherry Forest.

  “Don’t get me killed,” the lynx said.

  “Why not?” Toono asked. “You’re a pro at it.”

  Dimiourgos laughed. “Touché.”

  From beyond the road’s bend, the first few horses appeared. The caravan was thin at the front, but as more of their forces followed, the more impenetrable it seemed. Spirit General Minerva rode at the front of it all, serving as the honorary guard for Spirit Queen Apsa’s Adrenian guests. As expected, Adren King Supido had left General Sinno in their home kingdom, acting as a protector of the capital and the royal family during the king’s absence. All of Tazama’s intelligence had been correct up to this point.

  “How much opposition are you looking at here?” Dimiourgos asked, likely reading the expression on Toono’s face.

  “Two hundred or so,” Toono muttered. “Forty to fifty soldiers on horse, the rest on foot, and some are likely in the few carriages at the center of it all.”

  The lynx chuckled. “Nobody can question your resilience or—depending on the perspective—idiocy.”

  Toono’s head whirled as he heard movement in the forest behind him. He gazed around the tree toward the sea of pink petals below. Men and women in silver cloaks dashed through the forest, their speed percentages cranked high, checking behind every single tree for any sign of enemies.

  “They’re not stupid,” Dimiourgos said. “Extra precautions during times of war. Hopefully they don’t look up.”

  Toono snatched the rope to his bag and tightened it, silencing the primordial deity. He needed to move. With scouts in the forest, there was no time to linger. Taking a deep breath, he mentally prepared himself for another bout with a mighty royal head. With King Damian, Toono had had an advantageous environment. That wouldn’t be the case here.

  He looked at the branch next to him, where his new ancient hung. Grabbing it, he stood tall. It was time he put it to use.

  * * *

  After days of vetting, Illipsia stepped out of a processing building in Sodai, where she then waited to board a wagon waiting on the street. Six horses led the transport, for north of twenty passengers would soon climb aboard. Illipsia stood near the rear of the line of refugees. Only two people stood behind her—a father and his daughter. Once they boarded, they’d be on their way to the teleplatforms in Reikon Gate, where they would then be teleported to the new home of refugees, Phesaw.

  Everything was going as planned. She had escaped the vetting process unscathed. A few questions had nearly tripped her up, but she ultimately prevailed. Besides, considering the condition she had been found in, nobody wanted to berate her with too many questions. They pitied her.

  As Illipsia was about to pull her tiny frame onto the carriage, she grasped for a fistful of her long hair—an instinctive action to keep herself from stepping on it. But there was nothing there to grab; she kept forgetting about the haircut Toono had given her on the Adren vessel.

  Joining the crowd in the wagon, she squeezed herself between two older women on a side bench. She had a lengthy, uncomfortable ride ahead of her. Pasty sweat was already starting to accumulate between the side of her arm and her neighbor. Still, she couldn’t complain. This was nothing compared to that brief three-month visit to the Void with Toono and Kadlest years ago.

  Illipsia’s mind drifted to Toono’s pursuit of the eighth sacrifice. The True Light alliance could lose another key player today.

  * * *

  To a man of King Supido’s size, the blanket in his hand looked like nothing more than a hand cloth; to his son of twenty months, it was an entire world of comfort and warmth. It had taken Supido nineteen years of trying to finally receive the gift of a child. At a year past forty, he thought he would be childless, and the firstborn royal trait would die out because of him.

  He carried the blanket for this reason. It served as a reminder of someone he loved more than anything he could have ever imagined in his life, and he couldn’t wait to return home next week and see his baby boy again.

  He occupied the lorry alone. Company meant nothing to him if it wasn’t his wife or son. The blanket served well enough as his companion.

  The coachman yelled something incoherent through the walls; a horse’s forceful exhale followed, and the carriage stopped moving. This was not a scheduled stop, and it was impossible that they had arrived at Sodai already.

  Supido walked to the front of the carriage and opened the side door to peek outside. Everyone was motionless. Some soldiers appeared confused, standing on their toes and craning their necks to see wha
t was happening. One of Supido’s corporals—riding on horseback nearby—looked at his king and said, “A disturbance ahead of the convoy, milord.”

  Supido climbed the side of his carriage to stand on its roof. Hand above his eyes, he squinted to battle the sunlight. The Spirit Kingdom’s cool autumn breeze rustled his trailing cloak. A hooded man stood at the center of the stone road, blocking the convoy’s path. He seemed to have no army to back him—no signs of support at all—yet he had the nerve to impede a royal transit.

  It looked as if Spirit General Minerva was trying to converse with the highwayman. If this stranger thought he or she could get away with robbing from a traveling party of this size, they were a special kind of deluded. After a long stretch of nothing, Minerva grew impatient. She thrust a hand forward, creating a gale that swept ahead of the pack.

  The stranger didn’t move, taking the storm as if it was nothing more than a minor gust. Minerva walked forward, prepared to confront the thief up close and personal. The stranger tossed back his hood, revealing short dirty blond hair and a bandage that circled the top half of his head. Supido’s eyes widened. Every single soldier recoiled. The Spirit General didn’t even have a chance to react appropriately, for the Rogue Demon had drawn a cane, lifted it above his head, and struck the stone road.

  Everything following that motion happened in a split second. Minerva was the first victim as the stone cracked beneath the convoy. The road snapped and split into two halves, a crevice widening beneath them; soldiers screamed and horses neighed as they plummeted to their deaths; and as the crevice widened into a gargantuan fissure, carriages tumbled into its depths.

  Supido pushed off the roof of his transit and fled into Cherry Forest. This was a fight he could not win, and he’d be damned if he didn’t make it back to his family.

  * * *

  Dying screams, tumbling wagons, and the thunderous cracks of the ground splitting rang through the atmosphere. Such carnage could have been heard from miles away.

  Catching only a glimpse of the Adren King as he disappeared within the cherry blossoms, Toono bolted toward the forest, laying waste to grunts who tried slowing his progress. He had Yama to thank for being able to keep Supido in eyesight. If he could track her, he could track anyone. He had waited to pursue the Adren sacrifice for this long for this reason. He needed to make sure he could rival the speed of the Adrenian adversaries he’d be hunting.