Silent Requiem (Tales of Ashkar Book 3)

by Kayl Karadjian

  The mural then fanned outward on each side of the walls toward where Quinn stood. His eyes fell upon several masterful illustrations that he couldn't quite decipher, but were beautiful nonetheless. He realized the mural even continued up across the ceiling, showing a dark star high above that bathed everything underneath it in its shadowy essence.

  He continued turning his head, and narrowed his eyes when he caught sight of an image of a lone, dark figure rising from a pool of black liquid. The figure was surrounded by demons of all types attacking from all directions, and tendrils—like the ones that had shot out of Quinn's arm—shot forth from the figure's body.

  A third, perhaps most peculiar of all, illustration depicted six humans—five male and one female—surrounding a circle of blue, green, and white. The circle reminded Quinn of the pictures of planets that he had studied in his astrology classes taught by Grand Arcanist Graeme Warren at the School of Eight. The planet illustrated seemed to be Ashkar, and it was smaller than the six figures were, like the size of a ball would be to Quinn. Each figure placed both hands on the planet.

  “Where has Lion gone off to!?” shouted Gilbel, his voice once again echoing throughout the room.

  Quinn shifted his attention back to their current affairs. Gilbel had already made his way to the throne where the other figure stood, and Quinn hurried to catch up.

  “Lion is away on important matters,” snapped the other demon with a feminine voice, who was also a lionai. She had an impatient tone, like one of the Grand Library's librarians. “Come back… oh, I don't know… never.”

  “I'll have you over my knee, Gria”, threatened Gilbel as he made a gesture with his hands like he was snapping a twig.

  His threat only elicited an obnoxious laugh from the other demon. Quinn cringed from the noise. She might as well have run her nails down a chalkboard.

  “And how will you do that with such a short stature, Gilbel?” Gria remarked.

  Gilbel looked away and growled in discontent, though it seemed that the gesture wasn't actually aimed at Gria. His eyes were furious and it seemed that his thoughts were transported elsewhere. Just as quickly as he turned away, he shifted his attention back on the other demon. “Tell me where he has gone, then.”

  Gria shrugged. “Even I don't know. I'm just a secretary.” She then looked at Quinn, and her eyes grew wide ever-so-slightly. Rather, she was looking at his arm, not him. “More importantly, are you aware that you have a human behind you. A human with the blood of—”

  “I've no time for matters of that nature”, interrupted Gilbel as he moved away from them toward the stairs. “Come, Quinn. We must find what you seek, as promised.”

  Quinn eyed Gria for a moment, and she returned the stare.

  Is that… is that fear in her eyes? Fear, from a demon to a human?

  He held is gaze only briefly before he turned without a word after Gilbel. Together, they descended down the stairs and headed toward one of the exits of the spire.

  “How are we supposed to find them in such a big place like this?” asked Quinn as he was once again greeted by the vast, desolate wasteland outside the gates, the bleak sky, and the soft, orange glow of flowing lava down below. “How do you even know that they are here?”

  “Trust me,” assured Gilbel. “We won't need to find them. They will find us.”

  At first, Quinn had hardly a clue as to how that would be possible, but he soon realized what the demon meant; as the two of them made their way down ramp after ramp, Quinn noticed that the congregation of demons following him from earlier was now gathered at Bastion Square.

  It was also nearly ten times the size it had been on his way up.

  Word must have gotten out about his presence in the city, and there were plenty of scowling faces staring through his soul. Even the demons hoisting up the platform in the center had ceased their work. In fact, the sound of metal striking metal and productive workers had completely ceased.

  “Quinn!” shouted a familiar voice from the crowds as Quinn and Gilbel reached the end of the last ramp and were now back at ground level. “Holy Hell, it's Quinn!”

  “That's an oxymoron, Xai'jet,” Quinn said, unable to contain the smirk that his mouth formed. A moment later, and three demons who he never thought that he would see again materialized as they waded through the crowds in Quinn's direction.

  They stopped at the base of the ramp, each one wearing a smile as wide as the Legren River. Even Garjuun displayed his happiness by barking and wagging his tail. A feeling of overwhelming joy washed over Quinn, and he breathed a sigh of relief as he looked upon their faces.

  “I told you so, didn't I?” Gilbel added proudly.

  “Who is that?” asked Xai'jet as the skeleton's eyeless face shifted down slightly to regard Quinn's arm.

  “He's the one who helped me find you when I first got here,” Quinn answered.

  “We heard some things”, Zavalin said with concern. “So they're true?”

  “You mean this?” Quinn asked as he raised his arm to inspect it, garnering a collective, audible gasp from the crowds as they nearly jumped back in fear. Only the four demons he knew personally were unfazed by the gesture.

  “It's him!” shouted one from the crowd. “First the Shadow, and now him. Vaikar is back for revenge. We must strike him down before he has the chance to grow!”

  Roars of agreement rang in the air, and Quinn felt a hard grasp on his arm as he was yanked by Gilbel away from the crowds. The three other demons followed closely behind, and soon after Quinn felt the rumbling of hundreds, maybe thousands, of demons rushing at him.

  “We should fight,” urged Quinn to the others, receiving approving nods from Zavalin and Xai'jet, and a bark from Garjuun. “We can fight.” For the first time, Quinn did not have to run from those who sought his demise. For the first time, he was the one in charge of his own fate.

  Gilbel, on the other hand, shook his head and maintained his vice grip on Quinn. “Absolutely not. I don't care how much hubris is in your head, but you won't stand a chance against all of them.”

  Quinn looked back at the hordes that chased after him. He lifted his other arm, the one given to him by the black liquid, and pointed a finger at each demon.

  One, two, three, fo—

  Again he was pulled hard by Gilbel, and he lurched forward as he was forced to regain his footing lest he fall over or crash into the demon. “You made me lose my count!”

  “Exactly!” Gilbel blasted back.

  They reached the opening of the corridor that would lead toward the outer section of the city and rushed inside—

  Dozens of demons burst forth from the corridor, slinging sharp edges, blunt weapons, and shouting words of power as dark energy left their fingertips. Both Xai'jet and Gilbel muttered words of their own, and shielded them from the oncoming blasts.

  “Turn around!” ordered Gilbel, but their options had already become too limited; the group of five were now beset on all sides, with the larger crowd from Bastion Square converging from behind and more waves pouring out from the structures as the entire city was rallied.

  Quinn gritted his teeth, ready to make his move and determine how truly capable he was.

  “If we can make it to the center to where the platform descends we can move underneath Bastion's Return across the network and toward the city's walls,” Gilbel explained, and the five of them looked past the encroaching swarm to where the middle of Bastion Square would be.

  All right. Watch this, guys!

  Quinn held up his dark arm, envisioning several tendrils shooting forth in a line straight ahead. The liquid accepted his bidding, and he felt the odd substance loosen its rigidity as his vision became a reality. Dozens and dozens of demons dissipated into thin air, impaled by his dark attack. In that same instant, the substance retracted and once again settled into his arm.

  It wasn't that his arm changed shape as the liquid attacked, but that the tendrils were created like an extension of it. Shouts of pained
cries filled the air followed by more gasps, which were then followed by an even more rage-filled frenzy.

  “Start getting over there!” ordered Quinn—not Gilbel—as the human continued to shoot out his dark essence, clearing a path to where they needed to go.

  The others joined the effort, and in unison they bolted toward the center of the square. Gilbel resorted to his usual blasts of dark energy, while Xai'jet used his signature attacks. Zavalin, poised and agile with her sharp stiletto, danced between quick thrusts as she evaded attack after attack with ease. Last, but certainly not least, Garjuun barreled through scores of the attackers and crushed them into nothingness.

  Alone, they would have fallen prey under the onslaught—there were simply too many demons to repel. Together, however, it was just enough to ward off the waves so that they could slip toward their destination. It was slow, but it was steady.

  It was a while until they reached the circular opening in the ground that led into the pits below. The moving platform was connected to a heavy chain in the center, with that chain attached above their heads in pulley fashion. Now unmanned, Quinn wondered how exactly they would proceed without plunging into the pools of lava far below them.

  “Just jump,” said Gilbel as if reading Quinn's mind. “Grab ahold of one of the steady platforms below.”

  Quinn stared back incredulously. “Now, wait a seco—”

  He was shoved off the edge before he could finish, and his eyes grew wide as he flailed frantically on his descent. He passed several levels of platforms on his way down, and they were beginning to run out. He reached out to one, but it was too far. That cost him another dozen feet, and he scrambled for another. Again he missed. He looked down at the raging fire below.

  Gathering up what calm he had left, Quinn focused instead on his dark arm. He reached up toward one of the platforms that would normally have been out of his reach, and the liquid abided. It shot out, grabbing ahold of an edge, and Quinn was thrown to the side as the force pushed him not down but forward. On his swing back, the extension rapidly shortened, and he was thrown into the air. This time, however, he landed on two feet safely above one of the platforms. Granted, it was far below where he would have wanted, and he could feel the hot fires from the lava in a place that was already too hot.

  He looked up, noticing that the others had also made their leaps of faith. Zavalin did not appear to have much trouble, for her wings saved her from enduring the unrelenting promise of gravity. She held Xai'jet in her arms. Gilbel also made the jump safely, which left Garjuun.

  Garjuun came crashing down near Quinn, and the human watched as the hellbeast struck platform after platform in vain attempts to stabilize a landing. Garjuun struck a platform face-first, then rolled off in a daze and landed onto his rear onto a platform below. The pattern repeated several times in similar fashion, like a bouncy ball dropped into an enclosed space.

  At the rate that Garjuun was descending, the poor thing would meet an untimely end at the bottom of the pit.

  Quinn readied himself as Garjuun neared, now only a few platforms above where Quinn stood. It would only be a second or two until the beast was below him. He did not have much time to act.

  So it can shapeshift to attack, it can transform and stretch to reach things that I normally could not, and it does it all by just listening to me. Does it have any limits?

  Envisioning the arm to reach out again, Quinn locked his eyes with Garjuun's tail, then thrust out his arm. The liquid reached for its destination and took hold of the beast. Quinn braced for the impact as best he could, but nearly toppled over the platform himself as Garjuun swung way off to the side.

  Quinn tensed as hard as his body would allow, his right arm already over the edge. He scrunched his face, groaning as the force continued to pull him down. He was losing ground inch-by-inch, his grasp on Garjuun slipping away. Either he was going to fall along with the hellbeast to their doom, or he was about to discover the limit to his newfound powers.

  Considering both ramifications, he much preferred the former.

  “Come on, Garjuun, stay with me!” bellowed Quinn down to his friend, but he felt his feet leaving the edge of the platform—

  Several pairs of hands grasped the tail of his cloak, and he felt a strong tug pulling him up as those behind him strained with all their might. He started to go up instead of down, and once he was steadied, Quinn felt the arm shortening. With one final pull, he was thrown onto his back onto the platform—along with Garjuun's powerful body, which landed right on top of him.

  The sandwich was familiar, with Xai'jet on the bottom, Zavalin underneath Quinn and grasping him inappropriately, and finally Garjuun on top of them all.

  “This brings back good memories”, wheezed Quinn, barely able to breathe from the weight of the heavy hellbeast pushing down on his chest. Collectively they stood up, and Quinn’s gaze lifted up to the hole below the city. Dozens of faces looked down upon them, with several demons jumping in after them.

  “Head for the bridge!” said Gilbel, who was standing atop another platform above them. He pointed up to the bottom of the bridge that led from the gates of Bastion’s Return to the fiery lands where the two had walked.

  Quinn nodded to his friends, and together they made their way from platform to platform, wary of any demons who came after them. The one’s who did suffered a short death at the hands of Quinn, much to the surprise of his friends.

  He didn’t blame them. They knew him as the one who needed to be protected, and not the other way around. He would show them that such a notion did not exist anymore.

  It wasn’t long before they reached the platform closest to the bridge. Zavalin took turns flying each of them up, though Quinn helped her with bringing up Garjuun. When they were all safely atop the bridge outside the city’s gates, it opened, and out came scores of demons rushing toward them.

  Together they scrambled the other way, making leaps and bounds until their feet did not strike hard stone but brittle earth. Quinn looked back, finding that the demons who chased them were already too far to catch up.

  When he turned back to look forward, his heart skipped a beat.

  A lone figure stood before them, and from its form Quinn knew that it was no demon. At least, it was not reminiscent of any of the five types that he had come across so far.

  The figure wore a suit of black plate, its helm and pauldrons adorned with spikes that curved upward, with a billowing dark cape shrouding it. In its hands it wielded a double-bladed scythe, and most striking of all, two purple orbs glowing within the helmet stared at the group.

  Quinn felt a strange feeling, the same feeling that he felt when near the black pools of Vaikar’s Heartrend. There was something familiar about the figure before them, but he knew that he had never met this person prior to now.

  “The Shadow…” growled Gilbel.

  Chapter 10

  217th Dusk of the 5010th Age of Lion

  Guy wiped the sweat from his face before pulling his bow string taut and firing a windy arrow that pierced several armored bodies in a line.

  The battle had been long, and there still was still much more blood to be shed today. Both sides clashed with their full might, and it was clear that the war was to be decided rather quickly. Liberty’s forces didn’t appear to be considering retreat in the slightest, as was the same for Arcadia.

  Guy would not rest until Arcadia was the victor. And so he loosed arrow after arrow as he skirted around the front lines. He was far enough to be away from blade’s reach, but close enough to hear the death rattle of friend and foe alike.

  His efforts were primarily focused on picking off Liberty’s rear regiments, where Liberty had stationed his siege weaponry as well as archers and other elementalists who lobbed attacks from afar.

  Guy drew his bow taut and struck down one of Liberty’s bannermen. He also had a good eye for driving down the morale of his enemies.

  Guy was the counter to Liberty’s counter, and so far he ha
d ensured that his own men and women did not get picked off. He also diverted his attention to Liberty’s front lines whenever Arcadian forces lost ground, but that was not often. Cad and Laralen were holding them back despite Liberty’s overwhelming numbers.

  “Master Ranger Srdiv, sir!” said someone of rank from behind Guy.

  He wheeled around to regard a grim face. “What news?”

  “Cad has fallen at the hands of Liberty,” said the soldier regretfully.

  Guy was stunned, and it took him a moment to realize that there was still a war raging around him. He felt cold despite sweating from exertion. He felt numb despite his muscles aching. Cad was dead? An anger rippled through Guy, but before he could turn to face the front lines and unleash a barrage, his eyes went wide at a sight beyond the officer.

  Fort Bellford was on fire, and the skies above their rear forces was saturated with hundreds of flying creatures with riders raining death below. And just as Guy saw them, they began flying his way, further bringing destruction in their wake.

  “Find Ohrl’han the Supreme, and give him a full status report,” Guy commanded to the officer. “And make sure that he isn’t dead, too.”

  The officer nodded, and rushed to do as Guy bid.

  Guy then set his sights on the new aerial enemies laying siege to the forces of Arcadia. He ran in their direction, barking orders left-and-right and bringing attention to the skies.

  He aimed his bow at one such creature, pulled the string taut, but held off from firing. He instead waited for the creature and its rider to swoop low for an attack, and then loosed an arrow that struck the rider off his flying mount. The rider’s limp body crashed into the ground, but the creature still flew despite having no direction.