Silent Requiem (Tales of Ashkar Book 3)

by Kayl Karadjian

  “I hope that his soul finds safe passage wherever it is that souls go,” she finished, then returned to her original place.

  To say that the crowds were stunned was an understatement, but it was a daughter speaking about her deceased father, after all. Whatever anger that was behind her words was only from a sense of loss.

  With that, Cad’s casket was picked up by half a dozen men and women in crisp and polished outfits, carried down to where the entrance of the tomb was. The casket, along with the men and women, disappeared shortly after as they descended inside.

  An official announced the ending of the ceremony, but Guy’s attention was hardly on anyone but Rin, as was the attention of the other leaders.

  “So, who is going to ask her?” Graeme asked.

  Laralen looked over at Guy.

  “You must be joking,” Guy replied as he folded his arms across his chest, but immediately unfolded them as Rin approached.

  “Grand Arcanist, Master Ranger, Ohrl’han the Supreme,” she greeted one-by-one as she swept her arm with palm facing sideways from side-to-side in a gesture like the tail of a fish as it swam. It was common among those living in the Tokkan Peaks as hello. It was also meant to signify good intention, while serving as an easier way to reach someone nearby during harsh blizzards rather than trying to yell over one.

  “Our condolences,” Laralen said with a bow. “We will miss Cad very much.”

  “As will I,” she replied. “Do you know his visit before the start of the war was the first time I had seen him in years?”

  None of the three could answer, for what proper answer was there to such a statement?

  “When I was a child, after the war with the Dommogin was over and my father returned, I was so happy to see him again,” she continued as her eyes darted between the three leaders of Arcadia. “A child has no concept of life and death, no matter how many times it is explained to them. I thought it was finally over. I thought that he would never have to leave again. It was to my horror that he came back to name me his successor and told me he had to make sure no one ever threatened his home again.”

  “Rin…” started Guy, but he closed his mouth before he could say something stupid.

  “Don’t fret, all I ask of you three is to hear what I have to say,” she started, “the thing that my father wouldn’t do. Do you know how old I was when he left again? I was fourteen. A child that age has no place being in charge of an entire culture, yet that was the Avanos way. Did my father ever explain what the Avanos means to us?”

  “He mentioned that it was born out of a need to survive,” Guy said as he looked up at the face of Cad carved into the head of the statue. “It became the way of life of those who lived in the Tokkan Peaks, starting with Cad’s and your ancestors. As such, the title of Avanos was passed down through your bloodline.”

  “And it was because of that that such a burden was passed onto the shoulders of someone who was not ready for it,” Rin continued as she too looked upon Cad’s statue and softened her face. “I know what you want to ask of me, but the Avanos of the Tokkan Peaks must remain there. You will have to choose someone else.”

  “The people of the Avanos sector call for you,” Laralen argued, “and so do the other sectors fall in accord. There would be no one better than you, Rin.”

  Rin shook her head. “You honor me, but the people of Arcadia will have to choose someone else. While I have yet to bear a child, I will continue to be Avanos where I belong. I will keep the tradition. That is my sacrifice to my people.”

  “We understand,” Laralen said, and with a gesture that was the opposite of her greeting, Rin turned and walked away along with her cohort who had accompanied her to the service.

  Guy turned to the others. “We will have to appoint a regent for the time being while an official election is organized.”

  “We still need to give the people of Arcadia time to mourn,” Graeme said.

  “You’re right, Graeme,” Guy said. “That, and my heart is waiting for the proof that Cad did not die in vain.”

  Graeme looked away in shame and sighed. “Guy, you must believe me. Come to my observatory and I will show you—“

  “No, Graeme,” Guy interrupted. “You must believe me when I say I have lost faith in stories long forgotten. Salvation doesn’t come from legend, it comes from the heart.”

  Without giving Graeme a chance to speak, Guy turned his back and headed straight for the nearest tavern. He would rather drown his sorrows than mourn.

  He was done mourning.

  _ _ _

  Kalic stood alone on the outskirts of the ceremony as it ended, with most of the crowds dispersing. It had been a beautiful one, fitting for someone who had dedicated his life to protecting what he cherished—the most noble of paths.

  The ones who suffered most were not the ones who fell in battle. It was the ones who came back, broken and confused. It was a blessing to die in battle, to leave behind all inhibitions.

  Kalic would never know what that would be like.

  And it was now that he yearned to, for six moon cycles would soon elapse since his message from the World Tournament with no sign of Vanessa.

  He feared for what his mind was telling him, but his heart could not accept it.

  Art thou truly gone, Beloved?

  Two weeks remained, though Kalic had yet to decide where he would search next. He had searched all of Makka, Terra Nort, Terra Sur, and Onturi. With Arcadia failing him, only Garen remained. From what he gathered from the veri living in Arcadia, their people did not let many outsiders into their lands. That left the parts where the wilds reigned, a place where Vanessa couldn’t possibly be.

  Does my path end here?

  His mind was shrouded, and he set off to do the only thing that brought him clarity as of late. Not long after he found himself in one of Arcadia’s busiest streets and walked into the first establishment that he saw.

  It was a cozy tavern, though it wasn’t as full as Kalic had expected it to be. The majority of those who enjoyed the vices in taverns were the same who fought wars, and so Kalic only saw a few heads when there should have been double.

  He took his seat at the counter, asked for water, and ignored the curious eyes directed at him. He listened to the chatter of those around him, and was relieved when he heard not the woe of battle and loss but daily conversation.

  It was that daily conversation that soothed his ears on days like this. Absurd banter, ramblings of news that many would consider not news at all, and exaggerated stories. Such conversations, often pointless and petty, were charming for that very same reason.

  “Shoulda seen the mess that my dog made today,” said a particularly yappy patron to another. “I came in and yelled, ‘what did you eat?!’ Sometimes I wonder if they do it on purpose.”

  Kalic smiled to himself. While tragedy had struck Arcadia, it had not been the first time for the kingdom, nor was a kingdom ever rid of strife. It brought him solace knowing that his efforts and the effort of other brave knights allowed one to complain about the bowel movements of a pet.

  Kalic searched for other stories to keep his mind at ease, though the repeated tapping of a mug of ale atop the counter drew his attention. He looked to the source, finding someone of great import sitting not too far away.

  “Master Ranger, I am honored in thy presence,” Kalic said.

  The Master Ranger slammed down his mug, spilling its contents all over the counter. He glanced over at Kalic, swaying gently to-and-fro. By the looks of it, he had already had a few mugs before Kalic arrived.

  “So you did survive?” muttered the Master Ranger as he blinked several times at Kalic. “On behalf of all of… of… me, thank you… uh…”

  “Kalic Rorkim,” Kalic said with a nod.

  “Kalic, Kalic, Kalic,” repeated the Master Ranger. “I will not forget again.”

  Kalic watched as the Master Ranger gulped the rest of his drink in one gulp, then motioned for the keeper to refill his
mug again. As the keeper moved to fulfill the Master Ranger’s request, Kalic waved the man to him instead.

  “Perhaps it may be wise to cease such actions,” Kalic said.

  Guy wiped his gaunt face, then looked around before settling back on his empty cup. “I’ve still got more to go.”

  “Thine soul is the air itself, “Kalic said. “Why try to drown it? Even from the outskirts of battle I could hear your wind.”

  “That sound is the wind roaring in the hollow chamber where my heart once was,” replied the Master Ranger as he suddenly sobered up. He looked over at Kalic with furious eyes, though the rage was not directed at the dragoon.

  Kalic wasn’t taken aback, and he took a deep breath as he pondered what to say. Even if the Master Ranger denied it, he was in deep mourning. It was natural, one of the stages one went through as they progressed through the stages of life.

  First was unending optimism and hope in youth, followed by rage and denial during the mid-years, and finally acceptance and temperance in the later years.

  Kalic had been through them all, but the Master Ranger was only beginning to tap into the deep-rooted anger that had taken root inside of him. What differed was how each person approached it, and by the looks of it, the Master Ranger was not handling it well.

  “Doth thine family know of thy suffering?” Kalic asked.

  The Master Ranger snorted. “Family? No, that’s not for me. Arcadia is my family.”

  “Noble, but doth thou have anyone to lean on?” Kalic pressed.

  “Avanos Hildir would be great right now,” muttered the Master Ranger.

  Kalic remained unmoved, staring at the Master Ranger until he let out a sigh.

  “The other leaders of Arcadia are always there for me,” he admitted.

  “Then be in their presence,” Kalic said.

  The Master Ranger pondered something, then pushed his mug a bit further from him, stood up, and went for the door, but not before giving Kalic a pat on his shoulder as he walked by.

  Chapter 15

  239th Dawn of the 5010th Age of Lion

  Sanjin stood just outside the gates of Enept-Ihs. It was wide open, with no guards standing watch. The only sound came from gentle breezes that rolled through and the occasional bird squawking above.

  She looked over at Mellin, who stood right beside her. He was as stunned as she was, unable to comprehend just what was going on. The tavern owner had made mention of the culprit, and as soon as he had her mind turned to the one who she had suspected for years.

  The only one who never seemed to fit among the Blue Swords but represented them nonetheless.

  Sevag.

  They took their steps slowly, eyes searching for any sign of life. As soon as they stepped foot within the kingdom, they saw—and smelled—proof of the calamity that had befallen Enept-Ihs.

  The smell of rot assaulted Sanjin’s nose. Blood and body were strewn in many places, particularly near the front gate. Not a single life stirred in this once lively place, and the more that Sanjin delved deeper, the more devastation she saw.

  They first made their rounds in the residential part of the kingdom, finding homes either pillaged or evacuated, belongings scattered and items astray. In panic the people of Enept-Ihs had fled the city, and once news had broken out of its fall, looters must have come in and done the rest.

  Every home—every room—that Sanjin searched, she braced herself to find the body of a child, struck down in cold blood. She breathed a sigh of relief every time she found it only messy or trashed.

  It was as quiet as a grave, the likes of which Sanjin had never seen in the kingdom. It was so quiet that her own thoughts pierced the silence. It was haunting, perhaps even more so than the piles of bodies. At least Sanjin could look away and forget the dead for a moment. With the silence, she couldn’t even turn inward to escape.

  One elementalist could not strike down a whole kingdom with one swing of his sword. The rest of the Blue Swords and Enept-Ihs’s forces must have kept Sevag at bay while the rest of the kingdom fled.

  The Blue Swords…

  Sanjin jumped into a sprint to the top of Enept-Ihs where she hoped to find evidence of her brethren. Perhaps they had escaped with the king, and were now regrouping in search of Sevag?

  One elementalist could never hope to take on dozens, no matter how powerful he was. Or could he? Could it really be possible that Sevag did this all on his own?

  Mellin followed right behind her, and the two made their way up to the top. Their path was littered with bodies, and no longer just those of Enept-Ihs’s military. She saw commonfolk among them, their tattered garments smeared with blood.

  Curse you, Sevag.

  Sanjin looked up, noticing a mass of gray clouds converging just above their heads. As she ascended it grew darker and darker until not a single ray of sun poked through, and when she made it to the top, where the vast courts greeted her, she froze.

  Hundreds more bodies greeted her, with one of them standing and gazing at her with a toothy grin. Sanjin could do nothing but stare at the image of Sevag before her, like a specter come to haunt her, only this one was of flesh and blood and brandished a sharp sword.

  A light sprinkle of rain touched her forehead, gradually rising in intensity until she was showered in rain. She remained where she was even as she was drenched in water, unable to take her eyes off of Sevag.

  Sanjin clenched her fists until the palm of her hands started to bleed. If someone had asked her what she was feeling at that moment, she would never be able to put it into words.

  _ _ _

  Raxxil couldn’t stop himself from hurling the contents of his stomach over the side of the Taja. The ship weaved back-and-forth as it pushed through wave after wave across the oceans.

  The time it took them to reach Port Banton had allowed Liberty the time to flee, but it made no difference. He could only go to one place, and it would be there that Raxxil would rip the orb that he carried from his scorched hands.

  Darius came over and said something, but his words were drowned out by the roaring of Vrand within Raxxil’s mind. There was something about boat rides that made his elemental that much more active.

  “What?” Raxxil asked, his head and neck still over the side of the ship.

  “We’ve been heading straight east since we departed,” Darius said as he came a bit closer. He stopped next to Raxxil, then skidded a few feet away when Raxxil whipped his head to hurl again. “Plannin’ on sailing above Onturi and then sailing down the coastline straight to Lenas?”

  Raxxil took a moment to gather himself. “Only a fool would do that. I didn’t take you for a fool.”

  “Now come on, partner,” Darius said as he placed his forearms atop the side of the ship and gazed over the horizon. “We’ve fought together now, doesn’t that count for something?”

  “I didn’t take you for a light weight, either,” Raxxil chuckled.

  “Now what’s that supposed to mean?” replied Darius.

  “I don’t have the stomach to tell you,” Raxxil said, earning a burst of laughter from Darius.

  “I’ll give you that one,” said the rugged bounty hunter.

  They remained as they were, Raxxil doing his best to keep whatever was left in his stomach from coming out and Darius watching the rolling waves.

  “She’s a good fighter,” Darius said finally as he jerked his chin in Tanaria’s direction, the latter standing alone at the bow of the ship. “Trained by you, I’m sure. The smartest thing a young missy like her can do is learn how to fend for herself.”

  “She will never have to fend for herself,” Raxxil said, his grip on the ship so powerful that Darius heard the splintering of wood. “Not while I’m around.”

  Darius eyed Raxxil’s hands as he spoke. “You won’t be around forever. No one is.”

  I will never let harm come to her. I will find a way, even if I’m dead.

  “I was impressed when I saw you on the battlefield,” Raxxil said as
he relaxed and met Darius’s eyes. “I thought that you were just a load of talk, but I wasn’t surprised. Anyone from the Western Reaches would know a thing or two about scuffles.”

  “You know where I’m from?” Darius asked, the wrinkles at the edges of his eyes fading as his eyes went wide. “How’d you know?”

  “Anyone from Onturi can recognize that accent and attire,” Raxxil said.

  “Well color me surprised, Raxxil,” Darius said. “I took ya for a bumblin’ warrior.”

  “Then we proved each other wrong,” Raxxil replied with a grin. “It must be nice getting a chance to return home.”

  It was Darius’s turn to splinter wood, but it turned out that his grip wasn’t as powerful as Raxxil’s. “What!? You don’t mean we’re going to land at Seaward Sails?”

  “There’s no other port in all of Onturi,” Raxxil explained. “Once we make landfall, we cross on foot all the way to Lenas. Liberty won’t be going anywhere anytime soon, not with such a broken army. He’ll lick his wounds behind his walls, and we’ll be knocking.”

  Raxxil stepped over and patted Darius hard on the back, nearly launching him into the waves below. “What’s the matter, afraid to go home?”

  “I need some time to myself,” said the bounty hunter as he jerked away and headed for the cabins below, leaving Raxxil eyeing his back in confusion.

  Raxxil looked over to where Tanaria was standing, catching her staring at him. As soon as they locked eyes, she jerked her head away. The two women had chosen to stay as far away from each other as possible, hardly saying a word to each other for weeks.

  Every time Raxxil spoke to Samantha, Tanaria retreated from him further, and every time he spoke to Tanaria, she grew more and more difficult.

  It was then that Raxxil realized what Serraemas went through dealing with them all and keeping the team together. The lengths that Serraemas went through to keep them in line, and not once a complaint…

  Damn it, Serraemas, I wish that you were here. You too, Erendil.

  It wasn’t the same, and Raxxil had been keeping that feeling at bay since the day he departed their base without either Serraemas or Erendil. It felt like his right arm had been cut off, leaving him to continue on crippled.