‘Life,’ said Murasa. ‘I can help you defeat the air elemental and save Logres from the Blight. My help is your only way out of here. You will become the greatest knight, and the most powerful Einar. We benefit mutually from this exchange, I assure you.’
Kairos looked away into the darkness, refusing to meet the god’s ruby gaze that seemed to pierce into his soul. He remained unconvinced, knew that the god was hiding something else. He saw the altar in the weak firelight and thought of Logres. Was everything he had been doing up till now orchestrated by a nameless Pariah? The thought troubled him. He considered the odds he faced, thought about the air elemental and the vengeful spirits of Shatteraxe. He and Althea didn’t stand a chance of getting out of here alive on their own. He wondered if the god was truthful about everything, or if he was being fed lies. He had more questions than ever.
Murasa sputtered impatiently. ‘Time runs short, young Einar. The undead grow restless outside as my power wanes. I cannot maintain this form much longer. Do you accept my offer?’
Kairos turned towards the flames and met those ruby orbs. ‘I accept. I will take you to the godshard. Now how do I get out of here?’
The flames regarded Kairos in what appeared to be a malicious grin. ‘Excellent. All you have to do is pick up the sword and wield it.’
* * *
Althea’s body ached. Her head throbbed in pain whenever she tried to stand. Her last attempt caused a surge of dizziness and pain, and she quickly found herself on her hands and knees, vomiting next to a boulder. Yet this pain was nothing compared to the anguish she felt staring at the door to the shrine.
When Kairos had entered and the door slammed shut behind him, she panicked. She called out to him until her voice was hoarse and the blood pounded in her head, but to no avail. She tried pushing on the door, and even spent precious mana casting a spell to force it open, but nothing worked. The door remained shut.
Eventually, she resigned herself to staring disconsolately at the door, hoping he would come out. Hours, which seemed like an eternity, passed. Althea listened for any sounds coming from inside, but she could only hear the wind. With nothing else to do, her thoughts centred on worry and regret.
The closed door trapped her chances at any semblance of happiness. With Stella dead, her home destroyed, and now Kairos gone, she wondered why fate was so cruel to her. Ever since her father had left again, her life had been a litany of sadness. She felt alone. Now she would die alone in Shatteraxe, despite having passed her own Test. The thought appalled her.
Having nothing else to do, she sat near the door. The stone floor was cold and hard, her mind full of despair. It was now late afternoon, and she dreaded being here past dark. The city below terrified her, and it was already frigid.
Althea began pacing to warm herself, fighting the wave of nausea that welled up within her. She peered at her surroundings, always wondering if there was something nearby. The gloomy atmosphere of this place reminded her of Banshee’s Lookout. More than once, she jumped at her shadow.
She wanted out of here, but dared not leave Kairos behind. She did not want to travel back down to the city, either. She should have tried harder to talk Kairos out of this madness! This quest was suicide; she’d known it from the beginning. It wouldn’t have bothered her if Kairos failed to become a knight. She would have done whatever she could to help him – even travel back to his homeland.
Thoughts of Kairos only made her feel worse. She ventured back to the long, descending stairs.
The ruined city of Shatteraxe rested below. The city of the dead. The fog thickened as the sun began its descent. She squinted, trying to catch a glimpse of the air elemental, but could see nothing from up here. She felt trapped. Hopeless.
Suddenly something grated open behind her at the shrine. Her heart leapt in her chest. She turned towards the shrine, and hope radiated within her.
Kairos emerged. He was alive.
* * *
Kairos readied himself to fight. His body still ached from the previous encounter with the air elemental, but he braced himself for the upcoming battle. He felt no fear. Only the sharp pain of anticipation.
He was relieved to find Althea safe outside the shrine. Together they descended the stairs to Shatteraxe. He showed her his new sword. It was a large, double-edged blade that looked tarnished and weathered. Althea was unimpressed. She had many questions, but Kairos only told her that the sword was magical and would defeat the air elemental. She remained unconvinced, but said nothing more; there was little daylight left.
‘Say nothing about me!’ the voice in Kairos’s head cautioned. It sounded weaker.
Murasa had vanished, returning to the sword. The god had abandoned the fiery form to conserve what little remained of his power.
Kairos rushed though the failing light, trying to stay low and quiet, but hurrying to get into position at the bottom of the stairs. He held Murasa low and ready. Fog swirled thickly around the plaza.
Behind him, he knew Althea was setting up a simple spell that would launch a small fireball into the plaza. Fire had caught the air elemental’s attention the first time, hopefully it would do so again, allowing Kairos to close in. He gripped the handle of the blade, hoping that the dark god would keep his word and help him.
It was a risky plan, but they had no other option.
Kairos stepped forward into the gloomy plaza, feeling the air change immediately. Althea moved into position nearby. Light blazed, a glyph of fire illuminated Althea’s face. A flaming ball descended into the plaza and struck the fountain, erupting into a shower of sparks.
The air elemental roared as it charged towards the fireball. Finding nothing, it stood still, its arms swaying slightly, as the wind continued to circle. Then the creature faded.
To Kairos’s surprise, the fog gathered around as the wind smote him full force. The air elemental materialised next to him. Its eyes flared with a menacing light as it closed in.
Kairos was not prepared for the elemental’s sudden attack. He had imagined he would act first, but the creature lurched forward. Kairos instinctively raised Murasa up to protect himself, knowing that he was going to take the full brunt of the attack.
Kairos braced himself, holding his breath, hoping that the dying flame kept its promise – that Murasa kept his promise.
The elemental struck the sword with its vaporous limb. For an instant, bands of mana with glyphs etched into them flared around the elemental’s arm. Kairos watched in disbelief as the transparent limb shattered into sparks that flew into the sword, streaks of light following behind them.
‘Attack! Now!’ the voice in Kairos’s head commanded.
Kairos recovered from his astonishment and slashed forward. The sword struck true, right in the centre of the torso. A gap in the elemental’s chest opened, and light spilled outwards, spiralling towards the sword. He noticed, as he swung again, that the sword’s tarnished blade was glowing white hot, but he did not let himself get distracted by this phenomenon. He followed through with another swing.
The air elemental’s wounds erupted in a shower of light. Deprived of mana from centuries of lying dormant, the sword drank deeply to slake its never-ending thirst. The light became blinding, and Kairos could feel the energy hum through the sword. He tried to pull away, but sword attached itself to the creature, refusing to let go. The air elemental exploded in a burst of mana, the concussive force knocking Kairos off his feet.
The light receded. The fog subsided a little, though it still lingered around the outskirts of the plaza and throughout the rest of Shatteraxe.
‘Kairos!’ Althea called, running to him. ‘Are you all right?’
Kairos picked himself up, his left hand still gripping the sword, which was still glowing. The realisation came to him that the sword had protected him against the elemental’s attack. He was still sore from his earlier battle with the elemental, and the fall ignited new pain within him. But he was alive.
Althea was staring at hi
s sword, not in awe, but horror.
‘Kairos, your sword...’
‘Saved us from the air elemental,’ Kairos finished for her.
‘I-it’s evil,’ she said, taking a step back. ‘I feel like it’s pulling my energy away. W-what is it?’
‘Just keep your distance from it, and you’ll be fine,’ Kairos said.
He was unwilling to talk about Murasa. He dared not to. Who would believe him? The voice in his head had gone silent. Kairos had the strange sensation that the god was resting. He couldn’t explain how he knew, but it was how he felt.
The air of Shatteraxe grew cooler and darkness set in the ruined city like a shroud. The shadows streamed long, and more voices whispered to them. Kairos thought he felt an invisible hand brush his back. He wanted to retrieve the staff and sword he had lost earlier, but a growing sense of dread compelled him otherwise.
‘Let’s hurry and leave,’ Kairos said.
Althea did not argue.
* * *
The night was never-ending. Kairos and Althea were so tired that each weary step brought pain, and yet they trekked on through the night. They wanted to put as much distance as possible between them and Shatteraxe. They dared not be caught in another fog by morning. And so they walked on.
They were too exhausted and fearful of Shatteraxe to talk much. They lowered their heads, hoisted their rucksacks on their backs and forced their feet to move them, one weary step in front of another, towards Chendre. Towards civilisation. Then towards Vadost.
Kairos walked side by side with Althea and tried not to think. He should have been happy. He had conquered the Test of Valour. Or had he? Althea had helped. Would the Knighthood disqualify him? The thought troubled him to an extent, but his worries swirled around the events of Shatteraxe. The flames of Murasa were etched in his mind’s eye. He wondered what the god’s intentions were. Murasa mentioned the godshard earlier, and Kairos wondered if he had made a bargain he would soon regret. There was now an invisible burden weighing down on him.
He had many questions, and tried asking Murasa with his mind. The sword remained dark and quiet. Asking his concerns aloud was out of the question. Not only would he appear foolish, but that would worry Althea. He felt guilty that he was hiding Murasa’s existence from her, but it was for the best, he decided. She would only pester him with questions that he did not want to answer right now.
When the first rays of sunlight highlighted the billowing clouds in the eastern sky with red and pink, they stopped to rest at an abandoned farmhouse. Far away from the deathly atmosphere of Shatteraxe, the birds began singing once more. They sat down on a stone bench outside the house to rest their legs; the inside was too dilapidated to enter, and the roof had caved in a while ago.
‘I’ve been meaning to talk to you about something,’ Althea said, unsure how to phrase her next sentence.
The tone of Althea’s voice and the look on her face told Kairos that this was not going to be a pleasant conversation. ‘What is it?’ he asked with trepidation.
‘There is something odd about that sword, Kairos,’ she said. ‘Something sinister. Whenever I approached it, I felt my mana draining away like… like a necromancer syphoning life from the living.’
Kairos said nothing, only studied the blade in wonder. He twisted the handle, causing the tarnished blade to rotate.
‘I believe that’s what it did to that air element – sucked it dry of mana,’ she continued. ‘True, it helped us defeat it, but…’
‘But, what?’ Kairos asked, his voice taking on an edge.
The change in his tone made Althea peer up in concern. She closed her mouth and moved away from him.
‘What do you want me to do?’ Kairos demanded.
‘Get rid of that sword,’ she answered. ‘We don’t know what it is, but it cannot be good.’ She glanced at the sword with unfettered revulsion. ‘I sense nothing but evil from that weapon.’
Kairos regarded Althea with a grave expression. ‘Get rid of it? This sword is the best thing that’s ever happened to me.’ He gripped the blade firmly, admiring the hilt.
‘That sword is evil, Kairos!’ Althea said. ‘I cannot explain it, but there’s more to it than meets the eye. Even now, I can feel…’
Kairos clenched his jaw and turned away.
‘Don’t ignore me like that!’ she snapped.
Kairos rounded on her. ‘Let me ask you this,’ he said in a stern tone, his eyes burning feverishly. ‘What would you do if someone offered you more mana than you have now? Would you take it?’
The sudden fury of the question stunned Althea, who had never seen this side of Kairos before. She only stared back at him with widened eyes.
‘You would take it, wouldn’t you?’ he snarled, answering for her. ‘You know how it feels to be weaker than the others. I’ve watched you struggle in class. Get bullied. You, of all people, know what it’s like to feel insignificant. To be less than everyone else.
‘I was like that with the Einar,’ Kairos continued, taking on a dark scowl. ‘I was the weakest, the smallest. Then I came here to Ordonia only to become the weakest in magic. Useless in everything.’ He held up the sword before him. ‘This is my power. I will not get rid of it. It saved us.’ A pained look of sadness contorted his face for a fleeting instant. ‘If I only had it earlier, I could have saved more lives.’
‘Kairos…’ Althea begged.
‘What would you do if you were me?’ Kairos yelled. ‘Would you take more power?’
Althea could only stare at him wordlessly, tears forming in her eyes. Kairos stood up and stomped off.
‘Kairos, wait!’
He ignored her, continuing on. He needed time to think. To calm down.
The walk did just that. His anger receded, replaced by regret and weariness. He should have been resting instead of getting worked up over the sword. Althea only expressed concern for him, and he treated her poorly. His behaviour reminded him of his father, who always resorted to anger and violence to solve disputes. The thought frightened him. Was he like his father?
No! Kairos vowed to himself. He was not like his father. He would go back to Althea and apologise, seek her forgiveness. She had every reason to worry.
The sky darkened above him with the promise of rain. Everything was quiet, even the birds made no sound. Kairos began to walk back quickly. He was tense. What he needed was to finish this Test of Valour, then have a nice meal and get some much needed sleep. Perhaps then he would be able to relax.
The hairs on his neck bristled and pricked. He had the sensation that was he was being watched – he was sure of it. He stopped and slowly looked around, searching the trees and bushes. He held his sword, Murasa, ready. He did not see anything. He wondered if he imagined it.
The skies continued to darken. A storm brewed above.
Everything was quiet. The only sound was Kairos’s rapid breathing.
A sudden flapping sound made him jump. A lone raven adjusted its position on a nearby tree. It flapped again, breaking the silence.
Kairos let out a long sigh.
Just a damn raven.
Something flashed to his left. As he started to turn, Kairos saw the thin beam of white light in the same instant it pierced his left shoulder.
Searing agony followed as he clutched his shoulder tightly with his other hand. He almost dropped his sword, the tip dragged helplessly on the ground.
‘That was for my demotion!’ hissed a vicious voice.
An axe’s throw away stood a figure clad in a dark leather bodysuit, over which he wore a leather cloak and a wing-crested helmet. His fingertips glowed with a deadly aura.
‘Captain Hargonnas!’ Kairos yelled, as he stared at the elf in astonishment. Why was the elf here, of all places? His surprise quickly bubbled into a sudden burst of hatred. He could think of nothing but vengeance.
Hargonnas stepped closer. Kairos saw behind the faceplate, the piercing blue eyes boring into him. He struggled to stand his ground.
‘I was a captain,’ he said, then his lip curled upward in a malevolent leer. ‘Perhaps I’ll be one again before the day is through. I’m going to enjoy killing you, Cursed One. You’ve been a tough bastard to corner. I was hoping you would die in Shatteraxe, but I’m glad you’ve made it out. I wanted the satisfaction of killing you myself.’
Kairos watched helplessly as Hargonnas traced a blazing glyph from a distance. Orange tendrils of fire whirled itself into a flaming ball, which was cast in Kairos’s direction at an alarming speed. This fireball was many times more powerful than anything Althea could ever cast. He used both hands to bring the sword up, his left shoulder flared in wrenching agony.
The fireball burst over him, showering him with globs of flames that quickly dissipated. Kairos felt the wave of heat and the impact, but did not feel the pain of burning. His sword had caught the spell and was now burning with its flames.
Now it was elf’s turn to be surprised.
‘I’m going to kill you, Hargonnas,’ Kairos yelled. ‘You’re easy to kill when you’re all alone!’
Did the elf just tremble?
Kairos approached him with the flaming sword, which he now wielded in his right hand. He was glad that Mr. Dubose made him work the forge and train weapons with both hands equally, for there was no hesitation in him. The battle fury was upon him now, melting away the pain in his shoulder. He would not be caught off-guard by another spell again. He sprang forward.
Hargonnas was wary now. His powerful spell did not work, its effect now evident on the sword. He began stepping back, assessing the situation. He tried to keep distance between himself and the Einar.
‘Cast the fire at him!’ came the sibilant voice inside his head.
Kairos obeyed, thrilled to hear Murasa again, and swung his sword. The inferno hurled toward the elf, striking him, dousing him with flames. He pushed forward, swelling with confidence upon seeing his adversary engulfed.
However, Hargonnas remained unharmed, the flames vanishing around him in a sizzle.
‘H-how?’ Kairos said aloud.
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