The Key of Creation: Book 01 - Rise of the Destroyer

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by M. D. Bushnell


  With his attention focused solely on surviving, Aldrick had lost track of his wife and son. Abruptly, he became aware of their incessant shouts. Worried, he ducked a fast swing from one attacker and somersaulted past the second to face in the opposite direction. He now had a clear view of his family and was shocked to see Jelénna off her horse, and held hostage by a bald man in a long dark gray robe.

  The robed attacker stood behind her with a barbed dagger pressed to her throat. Beyond them, Adrias still sat atop his dancing horse, but was struggling with a short, wiry man who was trying to pull him down. Momentarily surprised, Aldrick barely managed to block simultaneous attacks from both of his opponents.

  Knowing time was of the essence Aldrick lunged at his attackers pushing them back, and then closed his eyes. For the length of one deep breath, he called upon his senses.

  He reopened his eyes and ducked under two mighty swings that came so close he could feel the wind from the blades as they whistled by. Using the opening, Aldrick jammed one sword into the leg of the attacker on the left. The man recoiled in shock and pain.

  Using his forward momentum, Aldrick rammed his shoulder into the other man, who doubled over gasping for air. The first assassin was silent, but his eyes glimmered with hatred. He struck out wildly in anger, but the sharp pain from his leg caused him to fall forward off balance.

  Aldrick quickly spun behind the other man who still struggled for breath, and using his body as a shield, pushed him hard into the incoming blade. Unable to stop his momentum, the falling assailant thrust his blade deep into his partner, skewering him.

  Aldrick took advantage of the bewilderment of the survivor, and whipping his swords out to the sides, plunged them together into his body.

  Brutally yanking his blades out, he whirled and stalked towards his wife and her attacker, leaving both men to drop to the ground dead.

  “Stop!”

  The bald, robed man had a strange accent, but more importantly he was too distant for Aldrick to reach quickly. The skinny fellow—who reminded Aldrick of a weasel—had managed to wrestle his son down from his horse and was tying his hands behind his back with a length of rope. Aldrick guessed that if these men were here to simply kill his family, they would have done so already; perhaps they wanted something else.

  “Drop your swords, or the woman dies!” the robed man growled.

  Aldrick swallowed. This man was clearly not a soldier or a professional assassin like the others, but he did appear to be quite serious. Testing whether the man was bluffing, Aldrick took another step forward, over the corpse of the first failed assassin.

  “Not another step, I’m warning you!” the man shouted, pressing the blade closer to the soft flesh of her neck. Jelénna cried out as the sharp blade cut her, drawing a few precious drops of blood.

  Not wanting to risk her life, and seeing no other course of action, Aldrick stopped. After a moment of hesitation, he dropped both his swords to the ground.

  “What is it you want?”

  Sunlight reflected dully off the shaved head of her captor as he shifted position, and the hem of his long robe swept across the road swirling up a small cloud of dirt.

  “What I want is for you to die. If you forfeit your life, I will allow your woman and child to live.”

  Aldrick would gladly give his life to save his wife and son, but he knew choosing to do so now would prove utterly useless. The moment he was dead, the robed villain would kill them, or worse. No, surrender was not a viable option; he had to find another alternative.

  Attempting to stall long enough to develop a plan he asked, “How do I know you would let them go?”

  “I could give you my word,” the man grunted. “Although I really don’t see what choice you have.”

  When Aldrick did not respond he added, “If you do not give up now, I will kill them both. That you can be sure of.”

  Aldrick held his hands out to the sides, in a surrendering fashion. “Look, there must be another way. Surely we can come to some sort of arrangement.”

  He hoped he only needed a few more moments, after seeing a flash of silver near his wife’s hand. “Don’t be a fool! I have gold, I can pay you!” Aldrick bluffed.

  The man scoffed, and pointed his knife at Aldrick with a wild look in his eyes. “You are the fool! I have no need of your gold.” He cackled, a sound like a rusty gate.

  His laughter was cut short when he found the handle of a dagger suddenly protruding from his throat. His eyes widened in shock, and heavy beads of sweat rolled down his shaved head as he dropped his own blade. He vainly reached up to try and pull the knife out of his throat. A brief moment later, his eyes rolled back in his head and he slumped over, falling to the dusty road like a sack of grain.

  Jelénna stood in shock, her eyes staring at the ground in horror. Aldrick turned to confront the other attacker who still held their bound, struggling son from behind. Seeing the last of his companions fall dead, and knowing he faced a more than capable fighter, the little man released Adrias, and without a word turned and ran off as fast as he could.

  With a sobbing cry, Jelénna rushed to Adrias and swept him into her arms. Aldrick retrieved the barbed dagger and cut the rope binding his hands. Adrias nodded stoically as his sobbing mother held him.

  Jelénna looked up, her crimson cheeks streaked with tears. “Aldrick, what in the name of the All Father happened? How did those boys turn into warriors?”

  Aldrick gazed back at the corpses littering the shady, tree lined road. “I don’t know.” Pointing to the gray robed man, he added, “Perhaps this one was responsible for the illusion.”

  "He’s dead," Adrias observed, staring down at the body.

  "It’s alright son,” Aldrick pulled his son away. “Come here.”

  "Aldrick," Jelénna rose unsteadily to her feet. "It must have been magic.”

  "You know magic no longer exists,” Aldrick frowned. “Perhaps my father or one of the scholars in Akkadia will have some idea of what it was.”

  Aldrick knew Jelénna was still in shock from what she had been forced to do, but he wanted to get his family away from the horrible scene of carnage. He asked Adrias to recover the horses with their belongings, while he searched the bodies of the four dead men littering the road.

  All three assassins had had their tongues cut out, confirming his suspicion of their possible identity as an Illyrian Triad. He found nothing interesting on them other than armor, weapons and necessary traveling supplies.

  The robed man was a different matter. His barbed dagger was decidedly Illyrian in origin, and Aldrick found a small pouch tied to his belt containing three items of interest.

  The first was a blank piece of parchment. While that would not normally be of much interest, this one appeared very old and it had been rolled and tied carefully. It looked as if it had been used before, with depressions on the material itself, yet there was no visible writing on it anywhere. Aldrick could not tell if the ink had faded or been erased, but he thought it could be important nonetheless.

  The second, and possibly most interesting item was a pyramidal shaped golden artifact. The base of the artifact ended in a jagged post, as if it had been broken off of another object. Whether the small pyramid was truly part of a larger whole or a solitary item was a mystery to Aldrick, but this was neither the time nor the place to investigate.

  The third item in the pouch was a list of names, but before he could read through them, Jelénna started sobbing again. Aldrick retrieved her dagger from the dead man before tucking the remaining items into his pack and going to comfort her.

  “Thank the All Father you both are alright!” Aldrick said, embracing his wife and son once more.

  Jelénna nodded, too overwhelmed to speak. Adrias looked around at the dead bodies without expression. Aldrick had neither the time, nor the desire to bury the bodies of their attackers, but not wishing to leave them in the middle of the road either, he dragged them off to one side, clearing the path.

&n
bsp; “I will inform Brodan of what happened, once we arrive in Akkadia,” Aldrick said. “He can dispatch the army to take care of this. That will have to do.”

  Jelénna nodded absentmindedly, as she helped Adrias onto his horse. “Please, let’s just get out of here.”

  Aldrick nodded. “We should reach the inn before dark, and then tomorrow we arrive in Akkadia.”

  Aldrick took one last look around, while Jelénna climbed onto her horse. It was hard to believe that only a few moments earlier he had fought here for both his life and the life of his family.

  He wondered at the apparent reappearance of the Illyrian Triads, along with the bald, robed man who had traveled with them. The entire event was surreal, and the memory of the illusion disguising the true identity of the attackers seemed more like something out of one of his books, than reality.

  With more questions than answers, Aldrick grabbed the reins to his horse and climbed into the saddle. Hopefully, they would find answers once they reached Akkadia.

  Chapter 3

  That evening they arrived at the inn, and secured a room for the night. After cleaning up, they shared a very somber meal in the common room, before retiring for the night. They had been very quiet during the remainder of the ride, as well as at dinner. As they lay in bed Aldrick knew he should break the silence and console his family, but could not find the words. He still had not reconciled the horrible events from that afternoon himself. The scene of Jelénna with a dagger to her throat replayed over and over in his mind, and he could only shudder at the thought of how close he had come to losing his family.

  From the tossing and turning going on around him, it was clear the others could not sleep either. Getting up, he lit a tallow candle from the embers in the fireplace, and propped it on a wobbly table next to his side of the bed.

  “You can’t sleep either?” Jelénna whispered.

  “No.”

  “I’m awake too,” Adrias blurted from his pallet on the side of the room. “Read me a story father!”

  Aldrick grimaced. “It’s late, try to get some sleep.”

  “Awww, please! Everyone is awake.”

  Aldrick sighed. “Alright, but I’m going to warn you that the only book I brought with me is the Book of Anunnabi.”

  “I want a story!”

  “Alright already, let me dig it out.”

  Aldrick rummaged through his pack and pulled out an ancient, leather bound book. The well-worn cover featured a gilded title, which was all but completely faded by age. Aldrick smiled at the sight in spite of himself.

  Rubbing his eyes, he sat back down on the bed and pulled the candle a little closer.

  “If you find it boring, remember you asked for it,” Aldrick chuckled, and then he began to read.

  “Ere time itself existed, there was naught but an endless dark void in which abided the spirit of that which men now call the All Father.”

  “Is the whole thing in that funny language?” Adrias interrupted.

  Aldrick laughed. “Yes it is. That’s how people used to talk. Can I continue?”

  Adrias flopped back with a sigh. “I suppose.”

  Aldrick suppressed a smile by clearing his throat, and continued.

  “It is said that the All Father, growing weary of solitude, did conceive of the notion of time and matter, and with a thought, breathed life unto them. Thus, did the physical universe issue forth, and, cradled in the passage of time, the Heavens spun into existence.”

  “This is boring!” Adrias interjected.

  “I warned you.”

  “It is.”

  Aldrick shook his head. “Shall I stop?”

  “No, keep going.”

  “The All Father found that, being outside of time and matter, His dominion over the physical universe was restrained. To amplify His puissance over creation, the All Father conceived of a receptacle to hold a portion of His force in the physical plane. Thus the starry contrivance man has called the Tritaph came into being.”

  “The Tritaph?”

  “The Keystone of the Universe,” Aldrick explained. “It’s the most important thing ever created. Don’t they teach you anything in school?”

  “Boring,” Adrias murmured.

  Aldrick looked over at Jelénna. “At least he tells the truth.”

  Jelénna smiled and snuggled closer to him. Aldrick gave his wife a quick kiss, and then continued reading.

  “Then didst the All Father recognize the exigency for sovereignty over the three levels of the Universe, which doth consist of the Sky above, the Land below, and Urkalla, or the Underworld, as it is oft called by man. Thus did the All Father take up the Tritaph and call forth three guardians to reign over each.”

  “That’s the Tripartite Pantheon, isn’t it dear?” Jelénna asked.

  “That’s right, the All Father’s three children. If everyone keeps interrupting me however, I’m never going to finish this,” Aldrick said with a mock sigh.

  Jelénna simply smiled, and he continued.

  “Bringing forth light to fill the Heavens, He didst give unto his first child Anu, dominion over the never ending Sky. Anu was a lighthearted spirit, kind and gentle, and beautiful to behold. Anu was spirited, energetic and loving, yet she was as erratic and capricious as the winds.

  “Next, didst the All Father set the firmament of the Land, and set his second child Kian, the strongest of the three, in dominion over it. Solid and dependable, Kian was handsome and robust. Embodying reason, Kian was a lover of truth and knowledge, and a seeker of justice. Kian guarded the Land with strength and fortitude, yet he was often unmindful of his necessary relationship with his siblings in the Sky and Urkalla.”

  “Kian was always my favorite,” Aldrick said, taking a sip of water.

  “So you’ve said on many occasions,” Jelénna smiled. “But now who’s interrupting?”

  Aldrick put the glass down with a soft laugh.

  “Lastly, didst the All Father set his third child Nizar in dominion over Urkalla. Ruling over the Underworld, Nizar found he could affect neither the life spinning through the Heavens, nor that which teemed on the firmament of the world. His domain consisted only of death, the obligatory balance to life. Thus, over time Nizar became consumed with a never-ending desire for that which he could not possess. Atop his throne of skulls, he grew more craven and covetous of his siblings and their living realms, with each passing eon.”

  “He scares me father,” Adrias spoke up.

  “As he should,” Aldrick agreed. Realizing he was supposed to be taking his son’s mind off of negative thoughts, he quickly added, “But don’t worry, that was long ago.”

  Adrias grunted in what might have been assent, and Aldrick read on, letting the matter drop.

  “Thus the three planes of existence and the Tripartite Pantheon were brought into being. With His own influence limited in the physical universe, the All Father chose to set the glowing Tritaph as the Keystone to keep the balance betwixt all three planes of existence.

  “And so it came to pass that Nizar, in his shadowy realm, became increasingly consumed with jealousy and hatred towards his siblings, so that over time his physical form transformed into a deformed and abhorrent creature, mirroring his inner temperament. Forgoing reason, Nizar came to covet the Tritaph, believing that as its power incepted the very world of life, it could therefore emend his neoteric deformity, and grant unto him great power.

  “Nizar then appeared before his Father, and insisted He bestow the Tritaph unto him. Nizar claimed his deformity was unsightly and unfair, and that he deserved to be handsome and comely again, akin to his siblings who were beauteous and sublime.

  “But lo didst the All Father rebuke Nizar, for He saw his son’s visage was merely a reflection of his inner disposition. ‘Verily, thou art consumed with vile envy and desire, with naught but enmity and jealousy in thine heart. Even the power of the Tritaph couldst not unmake that which thou hast wrought upon thine own flesh, with thine hatred and rancor.�
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  “Nizar was wroth, and vowed retribution with vile words and epithets; not unto the All Father, for He was omnipotent, but rather unto His creation, which was ephemeral. Thus Nizar, coveting the power of the Tritaph and its promise of puissance, didst plot in his heart to steal the Keystone.

  “Anu and Kian, discovering his scheming, now greatly feared their disfigured sibling would gain limitless power unto himself through possession of the mighty Tritaph. They knew that should Nizar come to possess the starry Keystone, he would surely wreak such havoc in the universe as to bring utter chaos and destruction even unto them.

 

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