“You know what to do.” The next instant Cero was sucking air into his lungs and shoving himself to his feet. Aleest had a distant look in his eyes while chaos erupted on all sides. All the horses in the procession, except for the girl’s, were revolting. The guards immediately in front of them were unprepared for the synchronized assault they received from the four individuals in the front row. Cero had regained his feet in time to drag Aleest through the gap. Five of the horses calmed and stood still after having disposed of their riders. Torroth pulled himself up behind the princess as her horse barreled past. It was the work of a moment for the rest to find themselves mounted and following. The castle guards that had been leading this part of the procession had been mounted and were in no state to impede the runaways. Many of them barely managed to get out of the horses’ way. The mass of people that were on the road ahead frantically parted ways to make room for the horsemen. Less than a minute later, the gates were before them with a few confused guards blocking the way. Their courage failed as the horses bore down on them. When the guards had dashed out of harm’s way, there was nothing between the fugitives and the outside where long plains awaited them.
It was only then that whatever spell that had been binding the group into a cohesive unit snapped. They had enough sense to know that they couldn’t stop, but that their only path lay ahead. Frightened glances were cast over their shoulders even though there still weren’t any pursuers visible except for the rapidly diminishing guards whose futile efforts at running down the mounted escapees were being met with frustration.
“What in the name of the deep happened?!” Arken was shaking his head before he seemed to discover the fact that he was mounted on a horse. At this shocking discovery, he clung to the saddle for all he was worth and didn’t spare concentration for speaking again.
“I don’t know, I mean I did know what was going to happen. I knew exactly what to do and when to do it. I knew there was going to be a horse waiting, but how I knew that, I don’t know.” Niman apparently had more experience riding a horse, but was still not that adept. His attention was divided between staying astride his charger and keeping an eye on pursuers.
“Who are you people!?” Everyone stared at the horse that Torroth was on and the cascade of dark red hair that was blowing over his shoulder.
“Who are you?” Inadar urged her horse up beside Torroth and recognized the imposter princess in the saddle in front of him.
“I'm not the princess, just a milk maid.” The adrenaline from the escape had returned some color to the girl’s cheeks.
“We knew that much already. We work for the real princess. You are safe now or… As safe as any of us are.” Torroth looked over his shoulder nervously expecting an army of horsemen to come spilling out the dwindling city gates.
“This isn’t what I signed up for. A little spying and perhaps some sabotage, but not kidnapping a princess out from under Reigns’ nose. Not to mention being compelled into doing it.” Niman complained loudly.
“He is right. I didn’t have a choice in the matter. This is too dangerous.” Arken chimed in as well in a momentary lapse of concentration.
“We saved her life and hindered Reigns’ control of the people. It is why we are out here.” Inadar gave another cursory glance behind them, but still only saw the minute guards waving frantically.
“Who cares about a milk maid? There are hundreds of them out there. Not a single one of them is worth the trouble this one has gotten us in.” Niman sneered at the girl disregarding the tears that were coursing down her face as she listened.
“Enough! What is done is done. We can’t change that so we can only go forward. I don’t care what either of you think because we saved her and humiliated Reigns in the process.” Torroth gave a glare that should have silenced both the complainers.
“Reigns is going to hunt us to the ends of Den’dra for this. There is nowhere we can hide that will be safe from him. Come on Ark…” A blinding flash of light illuminated the area for a split second before the concussion from the thunder clap struck them. The sickly light rapidly failed as clouds formed spontaneously in the sky. Within a minute, lightning was striking all around them. Shienhin seemed to be at the middle of the storm, but it soon expanded to the plain, where the fugitives were riding, with torrents of rain.
“We have to get to the Garoche. We can find shelter there. Everyone stick together and we should be all right. Cero… Cero!” Inadar shouted out orders and began inventorying the group. When she came to Cero, she saw that he was limply slumped over his saddle.
“Alagasire is taking care of him so don’t worry.” Aleest called out over the wind and thunder.
***
“I will slaughter them when I catch them. Cursed rebels!” Reigns swore a string of oaths that made Crein cringe. Reigns’ furry had reached heights previously unknown. The brazen kidnapping and escape of the princess had taken place right in front of him. The lightning speed and precision of the crime had left his men unable to respond. Confusion reigned as the people came close to outright rioting in the streets. This made any pursuit difficult, but also made worse by the fact that every horse in the city had gone insane. None of them were rideable and people were getting trampled as the horses raced around in terror. Even if they had been able to gather a number of rideable horses, there was the matter of the storm that had sprung out of thin air and was pummeling Shienhin with the fury rarely seen even in winter tempests. There was no chance that any track would remain after the torrential rains let up.
The simple audacity of the attack had been the most astounding. To pull off the escape when surrounded by castle guards was impossible, yet the simple fact remained that he had seen it done. There had been several others involved, although it had happened so fast that he had only been able to see one person with any degree of clarity and even then for only a moment. He tried to recall that image. There was the most notable aspect. Glowing light blue eyes. Then there had been the shock of straw colored hair illuminated with the light of a nearby lantern with the seeming of gathering all the remnants of light from the sky. Couldn’t have been more than his mid-teens. The person he was describing rang a bell. Those characteristics had been the subject of several letters through the spring.
“By the deep! That was the Dragon Lord. The Asgare had to have been here. Right here in Shienhin!” Reigns slammed his fists down on the table. His careful plans had been undone by the wretched assassin and a Gifted boy who couldn’t even grow a beard.
“My lord, if it pleases you, I could search for them by other means.” Crein nearly toppled to the floor with the depth of his bow.
“Do what you must. I want them all dead.” Reigns returned to cursing the Asgare, the storm, and the lad who had looked at him without the least fear in his visage.
“My lord High Chancellor, there is a fire!” One of the guards staggered into the room and only narrowly missed getting impaled with the dagger that Reigns hurled in his direction before thinking to ask the meaning of his announcement.
“A fire! Impossible in this storm.”
“Not here my lord, the port. You can see the light yourself from here.” Reigns shoved the guard aside as he rushed towards a window that offered a view of the north. The glow was clearly discernable through the rain that was falling. By the quality of the light, it appeared that the rain was only falling on Shienhin and that the fire were raging with spectacular vigor. Reigns found that words had forsaken him in his astonishment. Not only had the Asgare stolen his princess, he had also managed to apparently set the entire harbor on fire. When he again turned, his icy calm expression gave a lie to the consuming rage thinly veiled in his black eyes. He barely noticed the guard shrinking away before releasing his other knife. Seeing the knife sink to the hilt in unprotected skin afforded only a flicker of satisfaction. Turning, Reigns was mildly surprised to find himself alone. Crein was gone.
Dawn had arrived before Reigns was able to get to the port. Shortly before le
aving he had been informed that Crein had collapsed into a death like sleep. His condition had steadily worsened through the night until he had died early this morning. Reigns sat speechlessly on his horse surveying to total ruin of the harbor. Most of the building had burned when the fire jumped from the ships to the docks. Nearly every ship in the bay had burned to the waterline. The water was polluted by ash and choked with the rafting hulks and charred fragments of wood. His hopes of a quick decisive victory were gone.
The soot smudged soldiers, that had been battling the blaze through the night, stood around watching curiously. They had told him that the smoke from the initial fire had been poisonous, paralyzing any who breathed it. The winds had tossed the smoke around so much that they hadn’t been able to get close until the fire had caught a hold that couldn’t be broken with mere buckets of water. Untold supplies had been lost when the warehouses that now smoldered along the wharf caught flame. When asked what he wanted to do next, Reigns ordered the entire body of assembled soldiers to the Outlands with all haste. Undoubtedly the kidnapped princess would be taken to the real Princess without delay. How they intended to get past the army already stationed there was a mystery, but they had managed to seize her within Shienhin’s walls so the impossible couldn’t entirely be discounted.
***
It took Emeck longer to wake up than usual. Urake had carried him for hours before he had suddenly began choking for air. By this time, the storm that had formed over Shienhin had begun dissipating. There was no reason for there being a storm at this time of the year so Urake tried to skirt the edges of the oddly localized storm. Some incredible disturbance in the atmosphere must have been responsible for triggering it.
When Emeck had recovered, he found where the rest of the group was holed up. They had stopped in the woods and sent the horses on while they found refuge in a cave. It was midday the day after the port fire when Urake pulled aside the vegetation that obscured the entrance to the cave and found a black metal knife point at his throat.
“I'm sorry. I didn’t recognize you at first.” Inadar removed her knife and stepped out of the way.
“You seem a little on edge.” It took Urake a moment to adjust his eyes to the dim light inside the cave. Little light entered through the thick screen of vegetation that camouflaged the entrance and the candle that burnt wasn’t equal to the space it tried to illuminate.
“That might be an understatement considering recent events.” Niman appeared out of the shadows and jerked his head towards a sleeping form at the edge of the candle light.
“Who is that?”
“Her name is Anissa. Up until last night, she was Reigns’ fake princess.” Torroth was the next to appear out of the shadows.
“Ask Cero why he forced us to kidnap her.” Niman spoke again with a glare directed at the end of the cave still shrouded in shadows.
“I told you that I didn’t!”
“Be quiet! She is still sleeping.” Torroth stepped between them and Anissa defensively.
“Explain yourself.”
“Well, we were watching the procession when we all heard this voice in our heads that told us that we knew what to do. The next thing we know is that we all come to our senses outside Shienhin with Anissa. Cero was taking a nap on his horse and we were stuck with this mess.” Niman had the good sense to stop talking when he saw Urake’s eyes narrow.
“I was asking Cero, not you.”
“I saw her try escaping and knew that they were going to kill her. The next thing I knew, we were all hiding inside this cave.” Cero emerged from the dark portion of the cave with his arms crossed defensively.
“So what are you saying?”
“Something took over. I don’t know how to explain it.” Urake noticed that Cero’s clenched fists were shaking ever so slightly.
“I wonder… Cero, hold Ice Heart. I want to try something.” Urake drew the sword and handed it to Cero.
“Savaro. Lisel vorda Cero. Skeln sera yarin.”
“Speak the common tongue Cero.” Urake frowned. He thought he could understand what was being said, but it didn’t make sense what he could puzzle out.
“As you desire father; however, Cero is not present at this time.” Urake wasn’t sure if Cero’s eyes were glowing or if it was the reflection from the candle.
“Who are you, if not Cero?”
“If you must label me, then call me Skeln.” The eyes flickered that eerie blue even as the face tensed as if with strain.
“Cero and Skeln are the same person. Cero was Skeln before he changed his name.”
“Yarin. Truth. We are the same and I was first.”
“Why did you tell Cero to be still and calm if you are the same person?” Urake furrowed his brow as the ancient word’s meaning became apparent on forming the sentence.
“Cero does not understand what we are. He is weak and afraid of what we can do.”
“What are you and how long have you been a part of Cero?” Urake inquired with his arms crossed as the others on the room listened in amazement.
“I have been watching and protecting him since you found us in the forest. Unlike you, we were created from three life forms. Human, dragon and Dragon Lord. The blood of dragons and humans make up our physical form, but the elemental essence of the Dragon Lords gives us our power. Unlike Inadar, we have another part. The shard of truth has been forged into our blood.”
“What do you mean? Is there another person inside me as well?” Inadar came forward in confusion.
“Sarina slumbers much like Eld’or lurks beneath the surface. Awaiting the time when we are needed.”
“Eld’or? Sarina? What are you talking about?”
“Uraken son of Ermor, Eld’or the Night Soul has chosen you as his vessel.”
“Cero! You aren’t making any sense.” Urake seized Cero’s shoulders and shook them. Grabbing Ice Heart, he tore it from Cero’s hands. As the glow was fading from his eyes, he spoke one more time.
“It is time father. Awaken.” An instant later Urake found himself standing in the woods with Ice Heart in hand. At his feet lay the dead dark elf that he had taken the sword from. Memory stirred and he glanced over his shoulder. A dozen black robed men were running towards him with murder in their eyes. Sprinting forward, he ran for the trees at the other side of the clearing. Brest was waiting for him there. Reaching the forest line, he dived behind a tree trunk just as a torrent of flames erupted from one of the black robed cultists.
“Wake up!” Brest stepped out from behind a tree a few feet away.
“What? You look different. Younger.”
“It’s me, Emeck! Wake up!”
“I'm wide awake Brest! We need to get out of here before those cultists catch up.” Brest stepped out from behind the tree’s cover and was immediately engulfed in flames.
“Wake up!” A moment later Brest had been reduced to ashes. Urake was shocked, but not to the point that he couldn’t react. Taking his bow, he notched an arrow and stepped out from behind the tree long enough to loose the shaft into the pyromancer’s heart.
“This isn’t right. Brest can’t die here.” Urake mumbled to himself as he smothered the flames that had caught at the edge of his cloak and notched another arrow. The remaining cultists were advancing slower now that their pyromancer was dead. He felt the tingling sensation that heralded a telepath’s attack. Bracing his defenses and biting his tongue, he waited until he felt the telepath’s shock at the pain. Seeing one of the cultists stumble he loosed the arrow. The psionic attack ended immediately. Taking advantage of the remaining five cultist’s confusion, he broke and ran.
Suddenly a wolf burst through a wall of brush and lunged for Urake’s throat. Launching off a gnarled root, he met the wolf in midair and brought Ice Heart down with all his might. The wolf didn’t stand a chance of surviving the blow. With the wolf mortally injured and one of the cultists screaming in agony, Urake ran on. Diving over a creek bank he paused to catch his breath sheltered from sight
by the overhanging root masses along the banks.
“It isn’t real.” Brest appeared out of a swirl of fire next to Urake.
“Brest, you died! I saw you die.”
“I am not Brest.” Urake flinched as his friend started speaking incoherently. A wet thump drew his attention to the arrow shaft protruding from Brest’s chest. Brest stared down at it in surprise. “I don’t believe it… This isn’t real…”
“No, no, no, you can’t die now.” Urake watched as Brest fell to his knees then to the ground where he sank through the round pebbles that made up the creek bed. Urake stared wide eyed as the last of Brest’s gray cloak was swallowed beneath the creek bed. One of the cultists jumped down in front of Urake a moment later. Seeing the bow in the man’s hand, he went into a rage. Before the man had a chance to turn around and see Urake, he had a half dozen stab wounds. Urake watched the man fall to the ground and half expected him to sink through the rocks also, but was disappointed and shocked back to reality at the same time to see the man just lying there.
The sounds of brush being crushed alerted Urake to the rest of the cultists. They were far enough away to risk another dash for safety. Taking the creek bed, he doubled down and sprinted along it with a nagging worry that he might encounter another spot of sinking sand like where Brest had fallen. Reaching a cliff that the creek had once cascaded down during the wetter winter months, Urake paused. The sound of advancing cultists were drawing nearer on all sides.
“Wake up!” Urake jumped as the rocks next to him shifted as Brest pushed them aside and stood up.
Chronicles of Den'dra: A land on Fire Page 19