The Descendants Book One: The Broken Scroll

by Kurtis Smith

  Egan held up his hands. “Don’t look at me, I have no idea what that just was.” Rubbing the scruff on his chin, he turned toward where the other battle had taken place. O’Hara was now lying motionless on the ground, facing the ceiling. The fire that raged earlier on the carpet was dying out, leaving only ash and a fair bit of smoke remaining. Thankfully, there was nothing else in the room that was flammable.

  Davin followed Egan’s gaze and commented quickly. Preempting Egan from reading the picture as it seemed was the best idea. “I didn’t kill him, and he isn’t mortally wounded.”

  “I hope he is willing to cooperate now,” replied Egan, not sounding confident that O’Hara would. He turned to Davin. “Take their swords. They will be proof of our success here. Go out to the battle. Do what you can to get the attention of everyone and inform them what has transpired. Make sure the soldiers surrender, if they haven’t already. I will tend to O’Hara and make sure he is well enough to talk.”

  The Advisors entered the chamber in shock.

  “What is the meaning of this?” asked Advisor Gregory in anger.

  Egan grimaced. “And I will deal with them. Go, quickly.”

  ***

  Ten minutes later Davin’s eyes fell upon Courtyard of Statues and the Acadeem campus grounds once more. He breathed a sigh of relief. The fighting was over. The ranking officers were the only soldiers left alive. The last of them were still being bound.

  The survivors from Swift River, Lemirre, Oamlund, and several other cities were busy piling the fallen, not looking too happy about it. Davin couldn’t blame them. Some of the citizens of the capital city had joined in the process as well, and Davin quickly realized that people from their own city were among the dead.

  The Cureists of the capital tended the wounded off to one side. Their abilities were another kind of magic, maybe not the same kind of power that the Ancients wielded, but a skill that took as much work and genius to master nonetheless.

  Every head swiveled toward Davin as traversed down the Grand Talamaraon Castle steps, holding the two swords.

  Davin cleared his throat and projected his voice as best he could. He did not want to sound foolish. “The First Captain is dead, and the tyrant King is gravely injured and beyond control of his mind. He is incapable of ruling at the present time.” He held up the weapons. “These swords prove my words. We have taken the city and the throne!”

  Cheers and clapping erupted from all over the courtyard and echoed off the buildings. Davin nearly had to cover his ears. The people of Talamaraon City that continued to fill the space in front of the castle were the loudest of all. This only made Davin prouder. It justified, even more, what they had done here.

  “People of this city, continue to tend to the wounded and give the dead proper rest. But the leaders of the resistance and the governors of Oamlund, Swift River, and the capital city must join us in an audience with O’Hara. He will step down or we will force him to. This kingdom will see peace restored. I, as one of the last of the Ancient race, will help to do this.”

  There were more cheers and fists thrown into the air. Even some of the bound officers seemed relieved that it was all over. Davin smiled, and in that moment the nagging image of Deverell’s mysterious disappearance and words did not trouble him.

  ***

  Once everyone had gathered in the throne room once more, Egan spoke.

  “We have called off the advancement of your soldiers outside and elsewhere in the kingdom. Also, it should be noted that your First Captain is dead, King.”

  O’Hara acknowledged the group standing before him for the first time since they had approached him. His eyes scanned the crowd, looking over Davin and Egan, the others from the resistance, his eight Advisors, and the three governors. It took him a long time to answer.

  He finally said, with genuine concern, “What happened to my throne room?”

  Egan was taken aback. He stuttered to begin his answer. “There-there was a battle here. First Captain Deverell and you fought the two of us,” he said, awkwardly.

  “You two are the Descendants. Yes, I remember just before the battle, but until the blow that struck me down, I remember nothing,” O’Hara pondered, trying to put it all together.

  Egan and Davin looked at each other, wonderingly. “Could this have something to do with your First Captain?” Davin said.

  “I believe that you are correct in that assumption,” O’Hara confirmed, sounding less dazed by the second. Surprisingly, he smiled. “My mind has not been this free in a long time,” he said more to himself than to the other two.

  Egan’s mind seemed to be reeling. “I am not sure we understand. We witnessed a feat that I have never seen or heard of a man doing in the history of time. The First Captain simply dissolved into thin air, as if a ghost. Do you have an explanation?”

  “I might,” answered O’Hara vaguely, but then he focused his gaze into Davin and Egan. “But isn’t there a battle to stop.”

  “If I may, my lord,” said Governor Seamus in a hasty tone, “the Dous Captains surrendered to us only a short time after the resistance reinforcements arrived at the gate and turned the tide. I was not the only governor that wished to see your reign end. Governor Victor Janus of Oamlund brought forces from all over the Greenlands and I came with forces from the Golden Plains. Even your Governor Callum Winterbourne of this city fought in the battle against you.”

  “I must have been truly lost if even my own governors desired to stand against me,” said O’Hara, looking extremely sad. “I have not been myself for longer than I can remember, and I have clearly made many enemies over that time.” He paused as he grimaced, rubbing his burned flesh lightly with his hand.

  Davin was confused. This was not the same man who had, before the fight, been nothing but cruel and arrogant in his disposition. He decided it best to just let everything play out; being that Egan was doing the same.

  “Are you saying that you have finally seen the error of your ways?” Governor Winterbourne asked unbelievingly.

  O’Hara grimaced. “It is more complicated than you can imagine.”

  “These are other leaders in that were crucial in victory today,” Egan told O’Hara. “Their roles have helped carry Davin and myself to stand before you now. And they are good people who can be trusted.”

  “Then they will be allowed to stay as well.” O’Hara looked toward Teague had been lying only a short while ago. “Did my son survive?”

  “He is alive,” said Egan. O’Hara looked relieved, showing for the first time signs of a caring middle-aged man. This demeanor suited him much more than the other had. It seemed more natural.

  “Good, I wish him”-O’Hara broke off, grimacing with tension in his face again. “The Cureist will need to work on me a while longer before we can continue our discourse. We will reconvene tomorrow after I have some rest. I request that all of you hold your judgment of me until then.”

  There was a short pause while he let the pain subside again. “Every leader who lives outside this city will rest in the castle tonight.”

  Everyone mouthed their agreement to this plan, some more enthusiastically than others.

  A couple of the Advisors led the way passed the indoor gardens and into a far east wing of the castle. The rest had stayed with the King, stating they had more to say to him despite his ailing body.

  After a short time, they reached a large room with two small beds to tend to injuries or ailments. All kinds of plants, shrubs, bottled herbs, and preserved animals comprised the room. It was everything a Cureist needed to make the proper combinations of items to heal and cure.

  Two of the Advisors then led Egan, Davin and the other leaders back to the residential area. The governors bid the rest goodnight as they split off down a separate hallway.

  Druce’s foul mood was finally voiced. “What is the meaning of this? The King and all loyal to him were to be removed from this place or killed. That was the plan.”

  He began to run at t
he two Advisors, but was cut off by Egan. Druce made to push him out of the way, but was over powered by Egan, and fell to the floor.

  “We have decided to hear him out, Druce. You heard O’Hara. Stranger events than we realized have been taking place here,” Egan explained, offering Druce a hand back on his feet. Druce returned to his feet looking slightly embarrassed and dusting himself off.

  “What is this strangeness you speak of? I don’t understand it. And I didn’t understand when he said it either,” Niahm asked, before Druce could speak again.

  “I am not sure yet,” said Egan. “We will have audience with him tomorrow instead and hopefully it will prove productive.” A beat, and then, seeing Druce’s face, he spoke again. “Before you argue, I trust that this is not some new treachery. So be calm.”

  Druce still looked murderous, but nodded anyway. The others did the same, not looking too sure about anything themselves.

  As Egan turned back to address the Advisors, Davin spoke up. “Wait, what news of the battle? How many did we lose?” The group turned to Davin. In the previous commotion, everyone seemed to have forgotten all about it.

  “With the help of the others from Oamlund and the other Greenlands cities,” Niahm began, “we slaughtered every last low ranking soldier within the city walls. The military leaders we left alive stands at around one hundred. We paid a heavy price, though. We lost all but a handful of our three hundred and fifty fighters. Aiden, Prack, and several others from Lemirre and Swift River were a part of the fallen. The force from the Greenlands lost more half of their numbers, over four hundred. The wounded survivors are being still being tended by Cureists in the city and staying with many who have opened their homes to us. The people here have been very accommodating.”

  The Advisor called Gregory addressed them in a sharp tone. “You will be gathered in the morning when the King is ready to see you.”

  He obviously had not taken the news of the resistance winning as good news. This didn’t make sense to Davin. Weren’t the Noble Guilds a representation of the people? Why would they be upset with citizens taking back their lives? With no more ado, they went away.

  Egan made the first move. “Let’s get some rest. I for one am tired.”

  Davin drew his breath sharply in surprise and looked around at the others. Their faces said that they weren’t expecting to hear these words so soon. There was so much to do yet, it seemed.

  “What of Roland? I don’t want to wait to see him,” Davin exclaimed. Egan turned back to him in his own surprise. He looked to the others as well and prepared to speak.

  Niahm cut him off. “I refuse to linger either, Egan,” she said, firmly. “I have waited long enough to see my husband.”

  “Yes, and what of the scroll piece that O’Hara has?” asked Druce, chiming in as well. Egan looked as if he felt he was being teamed up against. “We should have insisted that our eyes look upon it tonight. So much rides on our possession of it.”

  Lastly, Kayleigh spoke up. “Prince Teague should be seen to as well. I want to make sure he is healed.”

  Egan finally found his words. “These errands can wait until after we talk to the King tomorrow,” he said, flatly. “Until we know what has actually been going here nothing else matters.”

  Niahm gave him a disgusted look. “I have not slept well since he has gone, and I will not sleep well tonight until I see him.” Her voice rang out in the hall fiercely, causing Egan to take a step back.

  “I will not stop you if you decide to see him tonight,” said Egan, giving in. “But everything else can wait until tomorrow.”

  Kayleigh took another couple of steps toward him. She looked furious. “These people have already caused enough damage to our world. I figured you at least, out of everyone, would sense the urgency of this plight. Why let these things linger?”

  Egan looked exasperated. “Nothing that serious could possibly happen between now and tomorrow,” he said.

  “We don’t know that,” said Druce, simply. “If it were up to me, we would have gathered that scroll piece from the King, visited this Roland and the injured, and been on the road again tonight.”

  Egan took a step towards Druce, arms outstretched to his side. “And do what, wander aimlessly. Do you have a plan for the next move? That seems like an even poorer use of time. And based on what O’Hara may tell us tomorrow, it may make our next move clear.” He paused, his tone lightening. “I can see no harm in having a good sleep before we dive into more serious matters again. There is so much to think about. My mind seeks a break. I beg you to stay here for the night and do nothing more.”

  The emotion in Egan’s voice was hard to deny. Everyone grew quiet and looked at each other, knowing what that they were giving in.

  ***

  Davin roused early and decided to take a walk of the halls, reflecting on the events of yesterday and his journey to this point. The future found its way into his thoughts as well, but he pushed it away.

  One day at a time.

  His path inadvertently led him to the ante-chamber of the throne room. The room was still a mess from Davin’s impressive use of Driocht the day before. It took a while for the grin to leave his face after recalling the memory.

  Assuming that no one would be in the throne room, Davin pushed on the heavy, iron-wrought double doors. They ached with age and overuse, but sprang open with relative ease. Or was it Davin’s ancestors’ strength? It was getting hard to tell the difference anymore. He realized that his abilities were becoming fully a part of him, not like a second entity he had to access consciously.

  Within seconds his eyes fell upon a less sick looking King O’Hara. Davin stopped in his tracks, feeling unsure of his next move.

  “I am sorry, my lord,” he said after a few tense seconds. “I didn’t-,”

  A resonating tone came from the frail looking King well over half a century old. “It’s fine, young man.” Another moment passed as he pulled himself up from a slight slouch, then, “Stay and speak with me until the others arrive.”

  Davin looked briefly up at O’Hara and nodded. He never would have guessed mere months ago that he would be standing alone with King O’Hara in the near future. The reality of it was a testament to how far his life had come. He was certainly someone notable now, and the idea of that made him feel bashful. Will I be in future books about significant historical events?

  “Your name is Davin, is it not?” O’Hara asked him after a minute had passed. He seemed to be sizing Davin up.

  Davin nodded stiffly. “Yes, my lord.”

  O’Hara smiled slightly at Davin, obviously still in too much pain to do much else. “I admit, I expected the sons of the Ancients to be a bit more spectacular in appearance. I do apologize if you take offense.”

  “I take no offense, sir,” replied Davin, feeling less awkward now that they were talking.

  “Well, that is very forgiving considering the hardships I’ve put you and my people through. You have no reason to be kind to me.”

  Davin glanced away as he thought about O’Hara’s words. “I have learned much in the short time I’ve been Awakened. I have something to admit as well. When I first learned of my ancestry and my powers, I did not want to take the post of what would be required of being their kin. I was selfish. I didn’t want the responsibility that would come with it.”

  “When did you learn of who you were?”

  “Only a few months ago,” answered Davin, wondering how O’Hara was going to respond to his revelation.

  O’Hara’s chin rested on his hand and he stared intently into Davin’s eyes. Davin stared back, neither of them faltering. “And now, how do you feel?” asked O’Hara.

  “I have come to full acceptance of the duties that come with being a Descendant of the Ancients.”

  O’Hara sat up straighter, though it took much effort on his part. Davin almost called out to stop him, but restrained himself.

  “I am impressed with you, Davin of Lemirre. It takes a great person t
o change one’s entire mindset in such a short time. Great men have taken years to accomplish such a feat. On that same token, it takes an even stronger man to be willing to admit their past shortcomings. I have met many that I knew at both points in their lives. Most tend to conveniently forget they ever had faults once they rid of them. You did not. I admire that as well.”

  Davin hoped his face wasn’t turning red, but feared it was. “Thank you, King,” he said simply.

  They talked for several more minutes. Davin gave him a short explanation of what he had experienced in the past months. O’Hara seemed intrigued by everything Davin had to say. And O’Hara remained polite and cordial. Davin found this ironic when he thought about not even twenty-four hours earlier they had been fighting to the death.

  The door to the side chamber finally opened and Egan, followed by the eight Advisors, came into the throne room.

  O’Hara spoke to Davin one more time as the others approached the throne. “I would have a post for yourself and your fellow Descendent, should you ever seek it.” Davin nodded, acknowledging the King’s words, but not really taking them in.

  Kayleigh, Druce, Niahm, Governor Winterbourne, Governor Seamus, and Governor Janus trickled in as the next few minutes passed. Not long behind them, the high ranking officers of the battle were led in by the City Guards of the capital. In silence and resentment, their heads hung.

  After all were assembled O’Hara began, as loudly as he could muster.

  “It seems have not been myself for a long time. I wish to usher in a new era of my reign, one where corruption, deceit, and lies will not be tolerated.”

  “My liege,” Governor Winterbourne spoke, kneeling. He stayed down as if waiting for an invitation to speak.

  O’Hara shook his head and spoke. “Speak freely, Callum. I want to dispose with the over formality. You need not bow or wait for me to acknowledge you every time you wish to talk.”

  “Of course, sir,” said Winterbourne, rising up. “I simply wondered where First Captain Deverell was. Shouldn’t he be involved in this meeting?”