Wrath of the Usurper (The Eoriel Saga Book 2)

by Kal Spriggs

Aerion paled a bit, “Wait, isn't he the one who the Armen worship?” Among the Five Duchies, his name carried a weight of both dread and hate. Clearly, even in his remote village he had heard of the spirit.

  “The same,” Amelia said grimly. “Something for you to remember, here, Aerion, these people are old, many of them are old enough to remember such events. There's a weight of history and duty on these people. Seraphai is Noth's daughter, the Noth, the first Starborn born on this world and wizard who crafted the blade you carry.”

  Aerion nodded slowly. “It's hard to wrap my head around,” he admitted.

  “Trust me, I know,” Amelia said. She sighed, “Now, I wanted to ask you something. Did the Wold seem, well, a little bit off during the Nadir Ebeli? A little too focused on the hunt?”

  Aerion smiled a bit and rubbed at a bruise on the side of his face, “My Lady, to me it seemed like the hunters were insane. But I'm probably not the best judge, I haven't been among them long.”

  Amelia nodded, yet his answer left her unsatisfied. Under other circumstances, she might have gone to Seraphai, but the woman had made it clear she wanted to be left alone. Tirianis, Amelia felt, was affected by whatever it was, either because of her empathy or because of her nature.

  Aerion shifted uncomfortably and Amelia realized she'd gone quiet too long. “Well, my thanks for answering that question.” She looked for some other topic and settled on one that she felt curious about, “Do you plan to leave soon, to rejoin the rebellion against the Usurper Duke?”

  Aerion nodded and she saw seriousness settle on his face, “I've been here too long... I was delaying my return, I realize. I haven't had much rest, not over the past few months, until I came here. Today proved that I'm healthy enough. The mages here did good work, but I've got to be on my way.” He shook his head, “My friends probably think me dead... again.”

  Amelia nodded, yet her eyes went to the eyepatch that covered his empty right eye socket. “Did you ask about your...” she hesitated, realizing that speaking of his disfigurement might seem rude.

  “My eye?” Aerion gave her a dry smile, clearly he saw a bit of dark humor in her hesitation. “Several spoke to me about regrowing it, but it would take months, if not years, and I don't have that kind of time.” He grimaced, “A couple of them wanted to use animal eyes to replace not just that one, but both.”

  “That might be quicker,” Amelia acknowledged. Yet she could understand his hesitation. While blood magic wasn't necessarily evil, the Wold took some of their experiments too far, in her opinion.

  “Two weeks, according to one,” Aerion nodded, “But I don't want to go taking out part of me and replacing it with something else. And they said that having one of each would be too disorienting, I'd have problems with depth perception, double vision, that kind of thing, unless I spent a lot of time recuperating.”

  “Which again, you didn't want to give up,” Amelia nodded, “Seems like a wise choice.”

  He nodded, “I need to get back. I've yet to tell King Simonel, but I need to leave soon, probably within the next few days.”

  Amelia nodded. “I understand. Do you mind, Aerion, if I give you a letter to my father? I doubt you'll encounter any of the Boir Navy personnel, but you might find a Herald or a merchant headed that way.”

  Something flashed over his face at the mention of the Heralds, but Amelia wasn't certain what it was. Granted, the Heralds were more common in Boir, but she didn't know what he might have against them. Before she could ask, Simonel spoke up from behind them, “Ah, leaving so soon, then Aerion Swordbreaker?”

  Amelia turned and she saw that Aerion flushed a bit, “Yes, Simonel, I... well, I need to get back. I've been putting it off. But I meant to tell you formally...”

  “Do not trouble yourself, Aerion,” Simonel said. Amelia felt something in her soften at his gentle tone with the boy. How is it, she wondered, that he can be both stern and considerate, wise and yet impulsive?

  The Wold King looked over at her, “And Amelia, I have been remiss. I told you before we could send a message to your father and in the events that have occurred, I forgot. I am certain he must be worried about you. Please, write your letter and I will ensure that it gets to him, as swiftly as possible.”

  Amelia flushed, “Thank you, Simonel. I've got to admit that I've been distracted a time or two myself.” She noticed then, how close he stood and she felt a flutter of panic as she worried about her appearance.

  Aerion cleared his throat, clearly uncomfortable, “Uh, I think I need to speak with Jasper about getting my armor back. Thank you, both,” he said awkwardly.

  Simonel gave a wicked smile as the youth retreated, one that Amelia found herself matching. “The awkwardness of youth,” he said, “I don't miss it. Would you care to join me in a walk?”

  Amelia nodded her head slightly, feeling a warm glow at being included in his reference to maturity. “I would love to.” She felt a tingle as he took her arm and guided her through the crowd and out of the clearing. The loudness and gaiety grew distant almost as soon as they stepped under the ancient trees, which seemed to devour the sound and light of the party.

  “I've been remiss in other things, I'm afraid,” Simonel said lightly as they walked. “As my sister has reminded me several times today.” His voice was light, but she could hear the slightest hesitation in his voice, almost as if he were afraid.

  “Oh?” Amelia asked. She felt grateful for the darkness to hide her own flush as she remembered her own conversations on the subject with Tirianis.

  “Yes,” Simonel said. “She mentioned certain feelings that she knows we both have... and how we haven't yet found the time to discuss them.” Though his voice was confident, she still heard an echo of her own uncertainties.

  “I think she might have mentioned that to me, as well,” Amelia said. She chewed her lip, “But I'll admit that I have some concerns.”

  “Oh?” Simonel asked.

  “There's the fact that I'm Starborn and you're... well, you'll live long after I'm gone to dust.”

  He didn't answer for a moment, “My father suffered through that, without complaint. Does it so concern you that you will not have those extra cycles?”

  “No.” Amelia said, her voice soft. She couldn't look at him as she spoke next, “I fear that if we give in to what we feel then you would mourn me, long after I'm gone, that you wouldn't become the person you should be, that your people need.”

  He stopped and he turned her to face him, “Amelia, if that were the case, I would be wronging your memory. To live, to reach our full potential, is to honor those we care about. Were I to do less, I would disgrace the memory of my mother and father and of those who live in my heart, even if they are no longer here beside me.”

  Amelia felt tears well up in her eyes and she looked away, “I see.”

  “Well, then, what other concerns?” Simonel said lightly as they continued onwards.

  Amelia bit her lip, but she felt she must be honest. “I have seen... a darker side to your people.” When he didn't speak, even to deny it, she went on, “Today I saw it most strongly. There was a frenzy, almost a bloodlust in the Nadir Ebeli. It seemed like almost your entire people were affected, not just the hunters. I...” Amelia trailed off as she tried to find the words, “there was a danger there, like a wild animal, a wild predator.”

  She looked over at him and she saw his face had gone still. “There's truth in that,” he admitted, his voice quiet. “And I'll admit that, today, something awakened some of the darker past of my people.”

  “I felt something, something from the island,” Amelia said, hesitant to bring it up.

  He looked sharply at her, “Then you are perceptive... and I hope that it is not what I fear.” He paused and stared at one of the ancient trees for a moment in thought. “Just as Seraphai has her curse, my people have their own burdens. As you've no doubt heard before, our exile here in the Eastwood is only partially by our own will. This place is both our refuge and for
some, our prison. The decision to come here was one where the only alternative was the extinction of our people.” His face went bleak, “The majority settled upon exile, and you might be surprised to learn that not everyone of my people feels this was good idea.”

  Amelia frowned, “Is this something between you and the Viani?”

  He nodded, “And not something I wish to fully discuss, not without looking into some things first. If you sensed correctly, then some part of our past may be stirring and even to speak of it might further give it power.” Amelia nodded slowly at that. Spirits, godlings, and many other beings of energy could draw strength from fear or other emotions evoked by their names. If there was some ancient power with some ties to the Wold, then speaking of it might grant it more influence over them.

  “Who can you talk to about this?” Amelia asked. She hesitated then, afraid to speak out against her friend, but she finally spoke, “Tirianis seemed affected by... whatever it was, today.”

  “It doesn't surprise me,” Simonel said softly. “Her empathy makes her more vulnerable to such attacks, particularly if they affect the people around her. If we warn her, she might be able to better shield herself.”

  “Right,” Amelia nodded. She smiled then, “It seems we went and changed subject, there, from our original intent.”

  His smile matched hers, “We did. I suppose there's only one thing to do about it.” He leaned forward suddenly and his lips met hers. She felt a wave of sensations wash over her and her body seemed to melt into his. He pulled away after what seemed like an eternity. “Huh, I think that answers a few of our concerns.”

  “I think so,” Amelia said, somewhat breathlessly.

  “Still,” Simonel said, “I suppose it wouldn't hurt to try that again, just to be certain.”

  Before Amelia could answer, he leaned in for another kiss.

  ***

  Aerion Swordbreaker

  The Eastwood

  13th of Agmat, Cycle 1000 Post Sundering

  Aerion tapped at the door and waited. A moment later it swept open and he found himself face to face with Jasmine. “Ah, the Swordbreaker returns!” The Wold woman was tall and slender, with merry eyes and a quick smile, and Aerion found himself smiling back, almost instantly.

  “I've, uh, come to pick up my armor from your brother,” Aerion said. “I was hoping it was ready.”

  “That and more besides,” Jasmine said and waved for him to follow her inside. She walked through the foyer and into the fitting room that he'd visited once before. “King Simonel mentioned you would be leaving soon last night at the feast, after he and Amelia came back from their walk a little mussed,” she smirked at that, clearly pleased. Aerion just flushed a bit. He had noticed, but he hadn't wanted to say anything. Besides, it wasn't as if it were any of his business..

  “Jasper is quite proud of himself, let me tell you.” She leaned around the corner and shouted down the hall, “Jasper, young Swordbreaker has come for his armor!” She turned around before any response, “You just wait there and I'll go get what I've crafted myself!”

  “Uh, I've no real need for...” But she was gone before he could finish talking. Aerion restrained a sigh. While he did admire Jasmine's work, in theory, he felt far too overdressed in what she'd made him already. The long leather pants fit him better than anything he'd ever worn, he had to admit, but they also seemed far too tight and he flushed a bit as he thought of what others might think when he wore them back home.

  After a moment Jasper swept in, his arms full. Aerion swallowed a groan. He had thought that the Wold armorcrafter would only repair his scale mail, but it looked as if he had gone well beyond that. “Ah, you'll not regret letting me work on your armor, believe me!”

  Before Aerion could speak, Jasmine swept back into the room, a stack of garments in her arms. “And you'll not regret letting me do your wardrobe!”

  “Uh,” Aerion said hesitantly, “I've no real coin to pay you for your services. King Simonel said you wouldn't mind repairing my armor, but I can't really pay for anything.”

  The two stared at him as if he had spoke in tongues. “Pay?” Jasper said. “Why in the name of Dzveli Eris Maghali would you...”

  Jasmine slapped her brother upside the head, “Idiot, he's not one of the People, so he really doesn't understand.” She sighed and gave Aerion a gentle smile. She spoke slowly, as if to someone of dim wit and Aerion felt his face flush in embarrassment. “Aerion, you are a royal guest, the guest of King Simonel, no less. Anything we spend on outfitting you will be repaid by him, assuming we were crass enough to give him a bill, of course.”

  Jasper scowled at his sister and nodded, “Didre, he'll probably give us a small fortune for outfitting you, regardless of what it cost, just for being accommodating.” He started to lay items out on the table and shook his head, “But the important thing... you're something of a challenge.”

  “Indeed,” Jasmine said, her head bobbing quickly, “Just you try spending cycle after cycle fitting this or that of our people, all of the same coloring, all of the same general height and build. Boring.”

  “Enough to drive you to tears, I tell you,” Jasper nodded. “And the challenge of working my craft on someone else's forged armor, you have no idea how fun it was!”

  “Finding enough cloth to fit an outfit for you while showing off that splendid backside!” Jasmine gushed. “Oh, trust me, boy, we both would have done the work for that opportunity alone.”

  “Well,” Jasper grunted, “I can't say his backside does much for me...”

  “Uh, thanks,” Aerion said, somewhat desperately. The easy way that most of the Wold talked about matters of sex and appearance made him feel more than self-conscious. The fact that Jasmine was old enough to be not only his grandmother, but his great-great-great-grandmother was awkward enough. The fact that several of the Wold, of both sexes, had propositioned him at the feast the other night had made him even more uncomfortable. Even if he hadn't felt the way he did about Lady Katarina, he still felt that sex wasn't something to be treated so casually. “I guess you should show me your work?”

  “I'll go first,” Jasper said, “Since some of what she's worked on ties into what I've done.”

  He lifted up Aerion's scale mail first. It had been made by Aerion's old mentor, Taggart, the blacksmith of his village, just before Taggart had died. “It was good craft,” Jasper said, “Honestly, I would have gauged it Viani work, but for the materials used. They tend to use bronze more often for the colors and then go back and strengthen it with High Magic weaves.” Aerion leaned forward as he saw whorling patterns etched into the armor scales, some as fine as a hair and others wider. Jasper shifted the armor and as the scales shifted in relation to one another, Aerion saw that the patterns on the scale connected and formed different overall patterns across the armor. “I did the same, mind you, with more skill than most Viani could.” He sniffed disdainfully, “They focus on keeping each scale in line with the others so that their weaves don't break... I designed it so that the weaves overlap as you move. You'll have far greater mobility and flexibility in this than in steel plate and better protection as well.”

  “You could bounce a boulder off your chest and survive,” Jasmine nodded, “I've seen Jasper testing it. Knocked him right on his back, but no more than that.”

  Jasper nodded, “Some protections against energy attacks, too.” He held up a helmet and Aerion saw the similarities with some of the leather helms that many of the Wold hunters wore. Like them, it covered much of the head and face, but with a wide, glass-covered slit to see out of and another, open, bar for his nose and mouth, also covered in a fine mesh. Unlike the wold helmets, this one was made of similar steel to his scale mail and had a scale drape that looked to overlap his armor. Leaning close, he saw similar patterns in the mesh and etched into the steel. “I made this to match your armor, it's weaves tie into that of the armor, so a hit in one place will have it's force spread out all across your armor. Even most runic weapo
ns won't be able to cut through either one.”

  “That's...” Aerion looked for the right words. “Thank you, both are priceless gifts.”

  “Oh, there's more,” Jasper said. He lifted up a large, round shield. “You mentioned using a wooden shield. Most of our hunters fight with two weapons or a long weapon that uses two hands. But, I crafted this for a friend of mine... well some time ago. It didn't really suit his style, so I've had it lying around.” Like the armor and helm, the shield had a variety of whorling patterns across its surface. Some were merely decorative images of animals, but in the details of them he saw more of the patterns such as Jasper had done on his armor. Most of it was wood, with a steel rim and a heavy boss at the center. Unlike the armor, these patterns seemed far more complex and intricate and Aerion's eye almost glazed over as he tried to follow the patterns.

  “Hah, lying around,” Jasmine snorted. “He's been trying to find someone to carry that monstrosity for centuries. He's kept tinkering with it the entire time adding this, changing that. He's just lucky you're such a big fellow and you like shields.”

  “It is quality work!” Jasper snapped at his sister. He sighed and looked at Aerion, “Truthfully, it's something of a boondoggle. I've put far too much effort into it and at this point I'll almost be glad to see it gone. Still, I think it will serve you well. Like the armor, it is reinforced. I would challenge you to find a blade capable of cutting through it... but according to the gossips you already have.” He pointed at the Starblade which Aerion wore.

  Aerion shrugged, somewhat self-consciously. He still didn't feel right carrying around the weapon, yet he didn't feel right leaving it anywhere. He felt in no way worthy to use it, but he felt he almost didn't have a choice... at least until he found someone worthy.

  “Well, I'm certain that Mede Khmali would cut through it just fine too,” Jasmine said dryly.

  Jasper shrugged, “That it would. Anyway, the weaves or runes I used on your armor and helmet are all what I call passive runes. They use a bit of energy to craft, but in the process they no longer draw any energy. They made your armor stronger and better able to deflect impacts. The shield has those... but also what I typically call active weaves. They draw power to accomplish things and the shield has a number of energy storage weaves worked into it.” He coughed a bit, “In some ways I'll admit, I went a bit overboard, but I think you'll benefit. I'll show you how they all work after Jasmine has her chance to show off her work.”