Silent Requiem (Tales of Ashkar Book 3)

by Kayl Karadjian

  “Thank you,” Incindir said, but the owner did not respond or even acknowledge the gesture, instead moving on to serve someone else. Incindir gave Halcyon a look. “Not much for hospitality in these parts, it seems.”

  “We’re tied to whatever this shadow is,” Halcyon explained. “The less they interact with us the safer they feel.”

  “They’re not wrong, even without this whole shadow nonsense,” Incindir said before he gobbled up the food. When he was done he made a gesture at the owner for the bill, but again he was not acknowledged.

  Halcyon did the same, and the owner came around instantly. Another set of words, and the bill was placed in front of Incindir.

  “Oh, so I still have to be the one to pay,” he grumbled as he forked over the amount, then realized that these people more than likely did not use the same currency. The owner did not make mention of it, snatching the coin and walking off.

  “That was supposed to be ten silver coins, right?” Incindir asked as the two of them rose and went for the door.

  Halcyon shrugged. “More-or-less.”

  “Do they have a supplies shop?” Incindir asked.

  Halcyon asked a nearby person, and they were directed to another building. As they entered, Incindir caught sight of more than a few things that he needed, including some dried meat, a fishing pole, some bait, and a packable tent.

  Incindir pointed at each, then let Halcyon do the talking.

  “How much for them?” Incindir asked after the owner finished speaking. It sounded dire, like the other januk.

  “We haven’t gotten to that part,” Halcyon said. “Just more shadow.”

  Incindir sighed. “Tell him we’re not here for bedtime stories, just ask for the price.”

  “Fifty silver coins, more-or-less,” Halcyon said after he spoke with the owner.

  “Okay, when you say more-or-less, do you mean it’s about that much or a different currency entirely?” Incindir asked.

  “It’s better just to leave it at more-or-less, trust me,” Halcyon said.

  Incindir reached into his pack, withdrew a pouch of coin, and handed it over to the owner, who proceeded to retrieve the necessary items. Once they had all the items that they needed, they left and set off out of Tolitoli and into the barren, icy lands of Falrethar.

  “Are you worried about this ‘shadow’?” Halcyon asked.

  Incindir shook his head. “I’ve been chased by shadows all my life, what difference would one more make?”

  _ _ _

  Six moon cycles had elapsed, and so it was time for Kalic to move on. If all of Ashkar heard his message and Vanessa still did not answer his call, then she was dead or no longer lived where the word of man reached.

  And even if she was somewhere, that did not mean that Kalic would find her. So long had it been since the fall of Lorine that if she were still breathing she would be at an age that most humans did not reach.

  There was nothing more to do, but could he bring himself to accept that fact? What was he supposed to do then? He would not die, no matter how many years passed. He could not die, no matter how many blades pierced his flesh.

  He was a wandering ghost, no longer tethered to the world yet without a ferry to take him to some place better.

  Kalic stood outside the gates of Arcadia facing east. His feet seemed to be moving on their own, a longing for home pulling him toward Terra Sur. There he could find the ruins of Lorine, a place that he hadn’t returned to since its destruction.

  He did not know why, but that seemed like the right place to go to. If nothing else, he could visit the first and last place that he found the only things worth continuing for.

  _ _ _

  Vanessa had finally made it, and though she had no idea how much time that had elapsed since embarking from Corsair Cove, she was sure that she had made it in time.

  And soon, she would be back in the arms of Kalic, though she knew not how her beloved had lived this long. It made no difference to her, even if he was old and brittle and on his last breaths. She would savor any moment with him.

  The question remained, however, on how to find him in such a vast place. Arcadia was far larger than Corsair Cove, and nearly doubled Lorine in size even at the height of the long-forgotten kingdom.

  Even worse, Vanessa could not eschew her guise for any reason. Her presence in Arcadia could be made to no one except for Kalic, and the shadows were her cover until she did so.

  It made her search that much more difficult, but what could be harder than swimming an entire ocean? She was certain that Kalic would hold out for her. All that remained was her scouring every nook and cranny.

  She darted between alleys in her search, watching the crowds carefully for any sign of her beloved. The streets were busy, and so it made it difficult to sift through so many bodies.

  Hours passed with no sign of Kalic, though Vanessa pushed on. She searched entire sections, stopping a few times here and there when she heard chatter about a war.

  She heard pieces at first, but it wasn’t a hard puzzle to put together. Arcadia had been attacked on a full-scale, but it had succeeded in defending itself. Vanessa heard snippets of an unstoppable warrior in dragon-like armor. They mentioned him as the winner of the World Tournament, and so Vanessa’s heart danced.

  But even as the day turned to night, she found no other sign of Kalic other than a trail of words.

  Once the crowds died down, Vanessa took refuge in an alley. She would rest there for the night, and on the morrow she would continue her search. She wouldn’t stop until she found Kalic.

  Footsteps echoed off the walls of the alley, and Vanessa retreated further behind cover. She peeked out from behind a stack of empty crates at a young man—just a boy to Vanessa—who was running through with a flower in his hands.

  From his nervous face and frantic pace, Vanessa gathered that he was in a hurry to be somewhere important. She followed behind the boy as he made his way through the streets.

  He stopped when he reached someone’s home, but instead of knocking he made a chirping noise. Vanessa waited around the corner, watching as a girl who looked to be the same age of the boy opened the door and came out, blushing and smiling as she accepted his flower.

  The two said their farewell, and the girl went back inside. The boy lingered for a moment before running back Vanessa’s way. She looked around for cover, and when she could not find anything nearby, remained like a statue where she was.

  As the boy rounded the corner he noticed Vanessa, and leaned forward as he tried to gaze up her hood. She lowered her face even further so that he could not see her features.

  “Hello?” said the boy.

  “Hi,” replied Vanessa, hoping that the boy would go about his way, but he stayed put.

  “Can I see your face?” asked the boy.

  “It’s better that thine eyes don’t,” she said.

  “You speak funny,” laughed the boy. “Where are you from?”

  “Somewhere far away,” Vanessa. “Dost thou have somewhere to be? The hour is late.”

  “Not really,” the boy answered. “Dad died in the war.”

  Vanessa’s heart sank. She placed a hand on the boy’s shoulder. “Life isn’t easy, and neither is death. Dost thou have a home to go to?”

  “I’m a blacksmith’s apprentice,” the boy said. “I usually just go there now.”

  “And who is that girl?” Vanessa asked as she pointed toward the girl’s home.

  “Beatrix?” the boy said. “Oh, she’s just… um…”

  “Thou wants to win her heart?” Vanessa asked.

  The boy nodded, his cheeks flushing red.

  “Did the flower work?” she continued with a slight smile.

  “Beatrix says that if I bring her a flower every day for a month, then she’ll see if she will accept my hand in marriage,” said the boy.

  Vanessa’s smile grew wider. “Is that so? Run along, then. Don’t get lost in the night.”

  “Bye,”
said the boy as he ran off.

  What a sight it was to see young love. Seeing the two young souls come together reminded Vanessa that even in such times of war, there was still the hope of coming together. It told her that no matter what, souls drawn toward one another will continue to seek the other for union.

  Vanessa slid back into the shadows. Like the boy who sought his beloved’s hand in the span of a month, so would she. Every day she would search for Kalic until she was once more in his arms.

  Until then, she had to ponder how she could possibly reveal her undeath to the man who she loved.

  _ _ _

  Tarla toiled hard, tossing around texts of all kinds, just as she had been doing for the past few weeks. This Gilbel who Quinn spoke of appeared much more conniving and dangerous than his small, inconspicuous form seemed to suggest.

  The question still remained on what exactly the demon wanted to accomplish. Tarla flipped open one of the many dusty texts laid out atop her desk while the others watched in curiosity.

  “Where did you find all these books?” asked Quinn as he loomed over Tarla’s shoulder, taking a gander at her vast and old collection.

  “They were my mother’s,” Tarla answered without stopping her finger from making lines on the page as she skimmed through page after page. “I think my father wrote all of these. Only a demon could know so many things about both Ashkar and Hell.”

  “Hmm,” muttered Quinn as he moved to take a seat opposite Tarla. “You know, before going to Hell I never would have guessed a demon to write a book.” His eyes moved to the other demons in the room. “I mean, aside from the fire and desolation and dreadful architecture, Bastion’s Return just seemed like any other city. I mean, they were afraid of me.”

  “You said it yourself,” Tarla said. “Demons are the souls of once living people. What made you think they would be any different?”

  “Some of them want Ashkar to burn,” Quinn said.

  “Some people on Ashkar want it to burn,” Tarla replied.

  Quinn looked over at Xai’jet and Zavalin. “What do you guys want?”

  The two demons exchanged looks.

  “Just a good time,” Zavalin said, and Xai’jet nodded.

  “Here we are,” Tarla announced as her eyes and finger scanned the exact text that she was looking for.

  “Here what is?” Quinn asked as he popped back up from his seat and came over to Tarla.

  She sat back and looked up at him, pointing down at the drawn map of Ashkar in the book. “There are multiple places in Ashkar that have a stronger connection between realms. Think like the rift you guys went through but thousands times larger, large enough to fit entire armies through.”

  “So wait, are you saying that Gilbel wants to open a portal?” Quinn asked.

  “Yes,” nodded Tarla, and her finger moved to Garen at the spot in the middle of veri lands. “Here is one such spot, the biggest one in all of Ashkar.”

  Quinn rubbed the side of his face that was of flesh in pensive thought. “If you say that Gilbel needed you to open the rift first before coming through, how does he plan to do it again without you?”

  “It works differently on Ashkar,” Tarla explained as she made a gesture with both her index fingers. “Rifts cannot be made on Hell’s side, and so demons rely on rifts made from Ashkar to traverse through the realms.”

  “Then his plan is to do what?” Quinn asked. “Invade? That would explain all of that construction at Bastion’s Return.”

  “That’s the only explanation,” Tarla said as she set aside the books, stood up, and walked over to her cauldron. She reached over to a few vials, dumping the contents into a solution. The cauldron’s contents bubbled and hissed with the introduction of each substance.

  “So why not track the demon and stop him?” Quinn asked. “I mean, you can jump around so easily and it shouldn’t be hard finding him right? You found me from across a continent.”

  Tarla shook her head. “I already tried. He’s cloaked in some magic that I can’t penetrate.”

  “So what are you doing now?” Quinn asked.

  “Someone has to warn the Veri,” Tarla said, “which means that I’m going to need some contingencies if I’m going to have a chat with High King Tethaine.”

  Chapter 17

  271st Dawn of the 5010th Age of Lion

  What makes a good commander?

  The light from the early morning sun poured through Valien Var’ren’s window, telling him that it was time to wake up. He laid there for a moment, turning his head to watch his wife as she continued to slumber unhindered.

  He watched her face, expressionless, her eyes closed and her chest rising rhythmically as she breathed. Her hair was messy, just as he liked, draped over the side of her face and falling onto her chest.

  He had learned to capture such moments and savor them. They were fleeting, seemingly unimportant moments that many brushed aside until the day that they could no longer appreciate them. For some reason, it was at that point that they started to.

  It was Valien’s fortune that he had learned to appreciate the things that mattered before they were out of his grasp. For a veri like himself, he never knew when such a day would come. Any moment like this he would enjoy it.

  He kissed his wife on the forehead, causing her to stir and jumble a string of jargon that he recognized as affection, and then pulled aside his covers as he slipped out of bed.

  Valien trudged through his bedroom until he found the entrance to the washroom, closed the door, and flipped the switch that activated the light above, illuminating the entire room.

  As soon as he flicked on the light his mind turned to the Dommogin to the north who lived a life entirely opposite the Veri. It was to Valien’s leisure that the veri had made strides in science and technology that stemmed from a mastery over elementalism.

  The light switch, connected by a series of ley-lines funneling electrical energy from elementalists proficient in lightning element, was what allowed the Veri to enjoy near unlimited electricity as an energy source.

  It was the same for many of the other leisures that the Veri enjoyed. Medicine, in conjunction with an understanding of healing practices in elementalism, allowed veri to live far longer than normal. Despite the relatively small size of their lands, food and water was aplenty.

  Valien stepped into the shower and turned the knob. A font of water sprayed down from the shower head, bathing him in warm water. He took a few minutes to wash himself, then turned the knob to cease the oncoming flow.

  He reached for a towel, dried himself, then moved back into his bedroom and retrieved his vestments from his wardrobe. By now his wife had awoken, and she moved to follow in his steps as she entered the washroom.

  Valien put on layer after layer, culminating in a tabard that fell down his outer vest and pants. The tabard itself was red with an orange lining, and held a depiction of an ornate shield.

  Once he was fully clothed, Valien stepped out of his bedroom, took a few steps down the corridor, and opened the door to the bedroom where his children slept.

  He went first to his eldest, Kal, nudging the boy’s shoulder gently at first and then harder when the boy stirred but did not wake.

  “Time to rise,” Valien announced as he then walked over to his daughter, Cora, and did the same to her. The two of them groaned in defiance, but they knew better. Valien waited until they both rose and moved to change out of their pajamas and into clothing more fitting for the day ahead.

  Satisfied, Valien left the room and headed for the kitchen, where his wife was already cooking breakfast. A sweet aroma of meat and eggs entered Valien’s nostrils as he moved to help his wife finish preparing the meal.

  “Sleep well, Sel?” he asked.

  “It’s always a good sleep in your arms,” she replied, as charming as ever.

  Once the food was finished cooking, Valien and his wife set the table, just in time for their children to join them. With breakfast ready, the family of fo
ur sat around their dining table and dived in.

  “So, Kal, what have you been studying in school as of late?” Valien asked in between bites of scrambled egg.

  Kal was busy stuffing his face, but wiped his mouth with a cloth and looked up at Valien. “We’ve been focusing on the Elemental Lords. I have a big test coming up, actually.”

  “Oh, really?” Valien said as he beamed at his son. “Let me help you practice, then.”

  “Ugh, right now?” Kal said, rolling his eyes. “But I just woke up. My brain isn’t working yet.”

  “List me the names of all the Lords,” Valien said. Cora stuck her tongue out at Kal, who returned a look.

  “I can list them all, Father, and Kal is three years ahead of me,” she touted, hoping to elicit a response from Kal. “Lord of Flame, Gr—“

  “That’s all right, Cora,” interrupted Valien as he gestured at his son. “Kal is the one who needs to practice, let him answer.”

  Kal sat back and groaned, then closed his eyes to think. “Lord of Flame, Graug the Everburning. Lord of Water, Chuur the Abyss. Lord of Ice, Saur the… the Permafrost. Lord of Air, Ott the Skyfury. Uh…”

  Kal started counting with his fingers as he mouthed the names of those who he had already named. “Lord of Lightning, Gaizag the Revenant. Lord of Earth, Kedeen the Unmovable. Lord of Darkness…”

  “Mu,” said Valien when Kal could not remember.

  “Muut the Dark Star,” continued Kal when the name came to him. “Lord of Light, Luyce the Lightsource. Lord of Time, Jhamanag the Timeless. Lord of Space, Amendegh the Limitless.”

  “Now tell me how each elemental power utilizes energy and how they affect the body,” Valien said. “Let’s start with fire.”

  “You have to be kidding me,” muttered Kal under his breath, but Valien heard it all the same. Kal sat back and closed his eyes again as he thought of the answer.

  “Fire utilizes heat from the surrounding atmosphere, but also requires heat from the elementalist,” Kal answered. “Too much usage of fire can lead to hypo… hypothermia?”