Recreance (The Aeternum Chronicles Book 1)

by H. G. Chambers

  “You are a disgraceful creature, unworthy of dying by our father’s blade.” Eurig attacked, and Gabrial countered with his good arm. They traded blows, sparks flashing each time their blades collided. Around them the battle raged.

  A hasai darted past the Guard, and lunged toward Eurig’s back. Charce shouted, too far away to stop the ragged creature as it scrambled on all fours. It reached Eurig and grasped his right ankle. Akhil flicked his arm, loosing three small daggers. They hit the hasai with such force that its head snapped back, breaking its neck.

  Eurig was thrown off balance, and Gabrial took advantage by lunging forward, jamming his knee into Eurig’s chest. He was launched through the air and onto his back, clutching his chest with his sword-arm. His plate had distributed the powerful attack across his abdomen, protecting him from several broken ribs. How can he be so strong? Eurig thought; then remembered the blade. He rolled over quickly, avoiding a Gabrial’s lunging attack, and quickly climbed to his feet.

  “Do you know why I killed her?” Gabrial taunted.

  “Because you are a murderous coward,” Eurig whispered.

  “Wrong. It really wasn’t anything she had done. In fact, I quite liked our little Caprice.”

  “Don’t you dare speak her name,” Eurig seethed, and murder crept into his eyes.

  Gabrial continued, “It was you, Eurig. You are the reason she is dead.”

  “You’re insane.”

  “No,” Gabrial smiled, “Quite the contrary. Once again, Eurig’s smug sense of superiority rears its ugly head.” Gabrial looked at Eurig with narrowed eyes. “No brother, this time, you will be the pupil. I despise you. I have always, despised you. All those years as a child, forced to feign affection.” Gabrial’s expression soured like curdled milk. “Your very existence fills me with such contempt; such wretched, intolerable revulsion, that I question the very nature of a universe that would produce an insufferable being such as yourself.” He spat on the ground.

  Despite everything, Eurig was shocked. He was disappointed with himself for the pain he felt; for having been fooled into believing there was any love between them. All at once everything shifted, and Eurig finally acknowledged the truth. There are men in this world who are beyond redemption, and his brother was one of them. A sense of calm came over him.

  “I killed her because she was the one thing you valued above all others. I took her life, and savored every last drop of agony it caused you.”

  “It’s finished,” Eurig said calmly, and attacked.

  Three more of the King’s Guard lay broken behind the remaining warriors. They fought valiantly, but the hasai just kept coming in endless waves. “Any time you’re ready, Thomes!” Charce was battered, and bleeding from three bright red claw marks across her cheek.

  Thomes was still sitting cross-legged. He straightened suddenly and his eyes shot open, revealing only whites. The space around him began to ripple in thick waves, emanating outward with deep, resonating tones. The hasai were enveloped in the waves and shrieked, clawing at their throats. Red vaporous gas leaked from their deflating eyes and gasping mouths. It coalesced into a thick haze above their heads. They collapsed, their bodies reduced to shriveled husks. Others expanded. Their skin stretched to its limits before exploding violently. The waves continued to pour from Thomes until the surrounding area became a mass graveyard of black rags, withered entrails, and splintered bones. Thomes closed his eyes, and the air became still. A gentle breeze disturbed the red haze, stirring dried flecks of skin into the air, and Thomes collapsed.

  The fleeting quiet was shattered with a ‘CLANG’. An injured Eurig continued to battle his brother.

  Akhil, Draemon and Charce shared a glance and charged in to assist. Akhil ran in long graceful strides, leaping between his fallen comrades. Draemon charged around, and Charce leapt high into the air, flipping nimbly over the fallen. As they converged toward their King, they froze mid-stride. Charce was three feet off the ground.

  “What’s…happening to us?” Her voice was strained. None of them could do so much as turn their heads. Gabrial’s four guards, whom everyone had forgotten in the chaos, were striding forward from where the tents stood. They had unharnessed their metal armor and were clothed in long, billowing, hooded, black cloaks. They glided forward, emanating silent intensity.

  The remaining King’s Guard struggled to no avail. Years of experience and instinct kicked in and Charce did what she did best. She studied her enemies, looking for weakness. The grass below them flattened in a wide radius as they moved. It was as if the blades themselves wanted to be as far away as possible. No matter how hard she tried, she could not bring their faces into focus. It was nauseating how their features shifted and blurred the moment she attempted to observe them. Her eyes began throbbing and she had to look elsewhere.

  The heroes could only watch as their King battled his brother. The blows had become slow and calculated. Neither man had use of one arm. Luckily, Eurig was right handed, and it was his left that was injured. Gabrial fought with his off-hand. Their blades clashed as Gabrial attacked. Eurig barely fended off the blow with a grunt. Blood dripped from the fingers on his left hand.

  Gabrial observed the frozen King’s Guard and grinned. He shook a gauntlet from his injured arm. It fell to the ground with a clank, exposing a naked hand. Eurig knew he couldn’t continue like this for much longer. He’d lost too much blood. He gathered his strength and prepared for what should be the final blow. His brother could not resist a taunt; this had always been his weakness, and it would now be his demise.

  Eurig made a wide, exaggerated attack, baiting Gabrial to strike at his exposed flank. Gabrial took the bait and swung, grinning madly the whole time. Eurig anticipated the attack, and easily pivoted out of the way before countering. His blade flashed in the sunlight as it sailed toward Gabrial’s exposed neck. Gabrial’s forearm shot up with inhuman speed and stopped the blade within an inch of his neck. Eurig’s eyes widened in shock. Gabrial reached up with his naked right hand and grasped his brother’s jaw. Slowly, he drew Eurig’s face close to his own.

  Eurig struggled to comprehend the hellish pits that were once his brother’s eyes. They were roiling darkness; two black oily circles with agony writhing just beneath the surface. The whole world became a shadow. Gabrial’s mouth slowly changed from a grin to a dark, light-swallowing oval.

  Charce, Akhil, and Draemon watched in horror as Eurig’s essence was torn from him. It flowed out from his mouth, nose, and eyes, and into the churning black hole in Gabrial’s face.

  Eurig’s lifeless body fell to the ground.

  “NO!” Charce’s strained scream cut the air.

  Gabrial looked up at her, once again grinning. “Remove them.”

  The four cloaked figures simultaneously raised their arms before them, pressing their fists together and bowing their heads. The heroes were surrounded by a pitch black halo. The dark figures lifted their heads, staring out with large glowing white eyes. Charce, Akhil, and Draemon winked out of existence, swallowed by the black.

  Khalil appeared to be finished with the story. Oren sat quietly, thinking.

  “What happened to them?”

  “They were impelled into the void, where no physical being can exist.”

  “What were those things? Breakers?”

  “No. They were Shaoh Mah – shadow men. Once the favored weapon of Gabrial Penumbra, they over time proved too unpredictable, too dangerous for even him to control. He engineered a lesser version; more docile and open to suggestion, but with a fraction of the power. These lesser versions are what we must now contend with. They are desiccants…or Breakers as you know them.”

  Oren nodded in wonder, saddened by the painful memory of Breakers crushing his entire house in mere seconds.

  “Gabrial went directly from that battle to the Tower of G’shiyrah. He murdered the guards and priests there, and entered alone. None know what transpired within the tower walls, but its destruction was heard for miles. F
or those near the tower, it is said that time stopped. A nearby town froze in place, while the world went about its day. Riders entering the town quickly turned and fled, fearing a curse. It was the calm before the storm; a deeply inhaled breath.

  “The town itself no longer exists. It was destroyed with the tower, torn apart in a violent explosion. So powerful was the destruction that it flung pieces of the tower across Eurig’s Veld in all directions.” Khalil tapped the large stone beneath them with his pipe.

  “What happened to Gabrial? He obviously survived…”

  “None know, as none witnessed it. All life in the surrounding area was snuffed out. There are those who said the tower’s destruction marked a turning point in his rule. He became reclusive, appeared less in public, and pulled the strings of his empire from the shadows,” Khalil explained. “He had transformed. No longer was he Gabrial Teyrnon, Rogue King of the Voss. He became Gabrial Penumbra, the Lightless Patriarch.”

  Oren took a deep breath. “I don’t think anyone in New Arcadia has seen him in the flesh.” He took out a coin imprinted with the Patriarch’s visage and examined it by the light of the moon. He went to put it back in his pocket, then hesitated and flipped it over the edge of the stone.

  “What are you doing? That is a perfectly good coin,” Khalil chided.

  “After that story, I’m not sure I want to share my pocket with…that.”

  Khalil huffed, but said nothing.

  Oren started, “Hey…wait a minute. If those Chow Maw—”

  “Shaoh Mah,” Khalil corrected.

  “If the Shaoh Mah killed all of the King’s Guard, how could anyone even know what happened there?”

  Khalil grinned. “Perhaps you are not so hopeless as you would have me believe.” His voice held a hint of pride. “I did not say that all of the King’s Guard were killed. Most were never seen again after that day, but one managed to escape.”

  “Thomes,” Oren said.

  A smile tugged at the corner of Khalil’s mouth, but he didn’t answer right away.

  “Was it? Did he survive somehow?”

  “When he awoke from his exhaustion, his friends were frozen in action, and his king was dead. There was nothing he could have done to stop it, so, he left.”

  “He left? How?”

  “I do not know. He refuses to tell me…or anyone else for that matter.”

  “Refuses? As in, you know him? He’s still alive?” Oren was genuinely surprised.

  “Yes, yes, and yes. It would be hard to have any one of those without the other two, would you not agree?” Khalil gave a wry smile as he often did after saying something he thought clever. “He told me of what happened that day, though it pained him greatly to do so. Thomes is an honorable man, and he feels he abandoned his comrades…his king. A large part of him wishes he had stayed and died with them.”

  “But that’s crazy. What good would that have done?”

  “Honor. Being part of a tight knit group like that creates a bond that defies logic. It was how they became what they were. How they carved out their legend.”

  Oren was nonplussed.

  “I am not saying I agree with him. Only that I understand why he feels the way he does.”

  “Well he did the right thing. What good is throwing away your life when you can survive and fight again?”

  Khalil nodded. “I agree completely. That said, one can never truly understand the weight of a burden one does not bear. To recognize another’s plight is to help them bear it.”

  Oren nodded, and looked out toward the star-strewn sky. A meteor streaked across it. It really was beautiful out here. He knew now that he could never again live within city walls.

  “Get some sleep. We rise with the sun.” Khalil snuffed out his pipe and rolled over. Oren lay in his blankets, thinking about the heroes of a thousand years ago. I would like to meet Thomes, he decided. His mind drifted and his last thoughts were of running through the plains of Euphrite.

  10

  Honest

  A rumble began deep within the ground, and worked its way up to the surface. Clementine startled awake. The shaking was so intense! Being off-city was nothing like she imagined. I can’t believe I ever considered doing this voluntarily, she thought while bouncing around inside her sleepsack. This was the third quake in two weeks. She wondered whether there were always this many, or if she just noticed them less in the city. After a few minutes, it receded into periodic grumbles.

  Clem sat up and rubbed her eyes. “That’s some alarm clock,” she muttered to herself. She pulled the long black canister out of her pocket to make sure it wasn’t damaged. Far to the east, the sun peeked out over the desert horizon. Good a time to start as any. It was cooler walking in the early morning, anyway. She gathered her things and set out toward the mountain peak in the northwest. It loomed in the distance like a sleeping giant, resting just below the Jackal’s Head constellation.

  She’d been walking toward it for weeks. The scenery didn’t change much, but each day was filled with its own set of unique, deadly surprises. Perhaps the cruelest of which was the puddle that tried to eat her. Not only was she deprived of a precious drink, she nearly lost a hand. Clem had to admit the scales were incredible though - completely indistinguishable from a crystal clear pool of water. Then there was the sandshark, as she so aptly named it. One quickly learns to run for rock when its thin stalk slides toward you through the sand.

  Pretty much everything in this desert will kill you if you let it. It reminded her of life on the street. Back then she was a slight girl, surviving on her own, which made her a magnet for trouble. She learned to treat everyone, and everything as a threat. The familiarity of constant danger was comforting, in a way. The Miralaja demanded your respect. It was harsh, unforgiving, and completely uncaring, but it was honest.

  There was something about always being on guard; always ready for the next challenge. It appealed to her. There was a part of her that lay dormant when she was safe. Sometimes she feared it might fall asleep for good if she didn’t wake it often enough. There was certainly no risk of that here.

  She gave a strange looking spotted rock a wide berth. The “rock” came apart into several large spiders, skittering away from the vibrations made by her footsteps. It wasn’t so bad being alone out here, either. Sure, her life was in constant danger, but that was nothing new. At least here there was no risk of anyone betraying her, or worse, deserting her. She’d had enough of that to last a lifetime.

  Clem walked for hours, shouldering her pack filled with supplies, and the weight of her mag-suit. There was no way she was leaving that behind, even if it was useless outside New Arcadia’s magnetic fields.

  The sun climbed high into the clear blue sky. Lately she’d been catching herself remembering things from the past. Her mind wandered unbidden into a memory of Oren…

  “Hey! You’re going the wrong way,” Clementine said with a smile. It was early morning, and she was on her way to her third grade classroom.

  The three boys walking toward her were at least two years older.

  “Hey! Can it you little skunk or I’ll can you,” the biggest one sneered, narrowing his eyes.

  “Yeah, get lost, freak,” his scrawny friend chirped.

  Clem froze, unsure what to say, and the third boy piped up. “Come on guys. She’s just messing around,” he said to the first two, pushing the curly brown hair out of his eyes.

  “What? Don’t tell me you’re actually defending this bed-wetter. You know she’s just going to rat on us when she gets to school, don’t you?”

  “I won’t! I don’t even know where you’re going.” Clem tried not to sound worried.

  “Shut up, puss-brain,” the bigger boy scowled.

  “See? She said she won’t tell anyone. Let’s just go alright?” The curly haired boy tried to reason with the big one, but it wasn’t working.

  “Well would you look at that,” said the big kid in mock surprise, “The baby’s in love with a skunky li
ttle bedwetter.”

  “I am not!” the curly brown haired boy shouted.

  The larger boy turned toward Clem. “Come here skunkbreath, I’m gonna make sure you don’t remember seeing us.”

  “Leave her alone.” Oren stepped between them.

  “What did you just say to me?”

  “Yeah, what did you just say to him?” The scrawny kid echoed from behind.

  “I said, leave her alone,” he repeated.

  “Or what?” the larger boy stepped in close to Oren.

  “Or…or else!” Oren said and shoved him away.

  “You little…” He charged, and Oren tried to back up but was tripped by the scrawny boy, who had snuck around behind him. He landed on his back in the grass, and the big boy jumped on him and started swinging.

  Clementine screamed, “HELP HELP HELP! ANYBODY HELP PLEASE!”

  After a moment, a window opened up above, and a man yelled down at them, “You kids knock it off or I’m calling the wards!”

  “Let’s get out of here!” the scrawny kid grabbed at his friend’s shirt. The big kid gave Oren one last punch in the stomach and got up.

  “The next time I see your ugly face, I’m going to break it!” They ran down the footpath and turned off between two buildings.

  Clementine crouched down beside Oren, who was holding his stomach and groaning. “Are you okay?” she asked.

  “Ungh. Dirty cheating mouth-breathers,” he mumbled.

  “Your lip’s bleeding. Here.” She pulled a cloth from her pack, and dabbed it. “You look pretty banged up. Can you sit?”

  Oren slowly pushed himself up off the grass into a sitting position.

  “My name’s Clementine. You can call me Clem.” She held out her hand.

  Oren felt his jaw, and took a ragged breath. After a moment, he said, “I’m Oren,” and shook her hand.

  She grinned. “Or else?’ Is that really the best you could come up with?”

  “Hey! I just got beat up defending you, and you’re criticizing my trash talk?” he asked incredulously.