Silent Requiem (Tales of Ashkar Book 3)

by Kayl Karadjian

  “Are you coming with us, or not?” Raxxil asked, his foot tapping and eyes diverting to the canyons beyond.

  Darius looked at the others, then smiled at himself. “Oh, what the hell.”

  _ _ _

  “More!” Kalic beckoned, despite his chest already pierced with dozens of arrows. “More, Erendil! Let it all out. Enept-Ihs. Arcadia. The Isle of Undeath. Let it all out. For every time thou was swallowed by the darkness.”

  And so Erendil did, firing arrow after arrow, just like he had done before, but this time not to kill those he cared for. This time it was to embrace what—who—he was.

  And for the first time in his life, he heard not cackling from Akaba, but protest.

  He pulled his bow taut and fired again and again. Akaba tried to gain control to stop him, but the elemental couldn’t. Erendil was no longer resisting, but rather doing the exact opposite.

  He had given himself completely to the darkness inside. For all the times that Erendil did something he could not reconcile, he now faced them. The young girl and all the other soldiers of Enept-Ihs. Almost letting Arwynn die at the Isle of Undeath because of him. Every time he had aimed his bow at his friends.

  He owned it all now.

  Erendil stopped when he felt something wet make its way down his face.

  “What is it, Erendil?” Kalic asked, his torso covered in bleeding wounds. Erendil found it amusing that it was Kalic who was concerned under these circumstances.

  Erendil reached up and touched his cheek with his fingers, feeling the warm liquid running down his face. “Are these… tears?”

  Kalic took some time to remove all of the arrows buried inside himself, his wounds closing rapidly after taking out each point. He then walked over to Erendil, his chest now bare and devoid of any wound.

  “Good,” Kalic started, “I couldn’t hold out much longer.”

  “What do you mean?” Erendil asked.

  Kalic supinated his arm to show the bottom of his forearm, then ran a finger across the length of his veins. “The blood that courses through my veins is hotter than that of any creature. Dragon’s blood. It heals my wounds, but the more it heals the hotter it becomes.”

  “And then what?” Erendil asked.

  “I do not know,” Kalic replied. “I have never been pushed further than today.”

  “I see,” Erendil said, setting down his bow and taking a seat by the base of a tree. “I didn’t think I could cry.”

  “It is a mark that thou hath succeeded,” Kalic said as he too took his place by a tree, his eyes wandering the forest.

  “So I have… mastered my power?” Erendil asked as he focused his attention on Akaba, who had grown quiet. He called out to the elemental, but heard no response.

  “Almost,” Kalic said. “Thou must still temper thy relationship with thine elemental. Only then will thou understand the power inside.”

  “Will you teach me?” Erendil asked.

  “That journey is thine alone,” Kalic replied as he stood up, then gestured for Erendil to follow. “I wish to show thou something.”

  _ _ _

  Erendil followed Kalic further into the woods for some time until the two came across a series of crumbled stone towers and walls, and even further, the remnants of a lost civilization.

  “Lorine, as it once was called,” Kalic said, stopping at each broken structure, whether it be a home or even just a sign, and brushing his hands over them.

  Everything was covered in vegetation. Vines, moss, flowers, and trees grew unabated, claiming what was left of Lorine without much regard to what it used to be.

  “This is where you’re from?” Erendil asked.

  Kalic nodded. “Long ago, before thou was born, stood a powerful kingdom here. I once was a proud and honorable knight in its service, safeguarding it and the surrounding villages.”

  “Is that why thou speaketh so?” Erendil said in his best impersonation, garnering a chuckle from Kalic.

  “One of the ways that the royal families of Lorine sought to live themselves above was to speak so,” Kalic replied. “Most who lived within its walls adopted this style. The outer villages and people did not do the same, and so this way of the tongue died with its kingdom.”

  As the two delved deeper, they passed grand halls, cathedrals, and squares. How terrible it was seeing such a once lively place being reduced to nothing. He thought of the same happening to Arcadia or Enept-Ihs.

  “What happened?” Erendil asked as the two started on a set of stairs that ascended into what looked to have been a palace or castle. Prior, it had two sets of stairs, but only one had survived relatively intact. Kalic hadn’t replied in a while, and Erendil feared that he may have caused Kalic some distress. “I didn’t mean to—“

  “Lorine was beset by a series of mountains named the Corsma, as was the dragon named who lived there,” Kalic said as the two reached a point where the path diverged into two large corridors with statues of armored knights lining the walls. Many of the statues had been crushed, while others were entangled in vines or covered in moss. Light poured in from a gaping hole in the ceiling.

  It was here that Erendil felt a dark presence emanating from somewhere deeper into the castle. He had actually felt it prior when they first arrived at the fallen kingdom, but it had been small and he had dismissed it as a remnant of energy.

  But now, it was more pronounced… and familiar.

  “The dragon was the source of many deaths in Lorine,” continued Kalic as he went down the corridor, none the wiser of the energy. “Attacks were common, and so I set out to destroy it. While I wasn’t the first to do so, I was the first to ever come back.”

  They went around the corner, the dark presence growing with each step. They passed by a series of large doors that led to other rooms until their corridor converged again with the other one to form a larger, open hall that led to the largest doors yet.

  On the left and right of the hall were gardens and terraces that gave a view of the kingdom around. Without anyone to trim the carvings, the gardens had turned into thickets.

  “Like you, I did not understand what had happened to me,” Kalic said, the two strolling to the end of the hall where the doors were. When they reached halfway, Erendil saw walls that stretched to the right and left of the doors to form a dome-like structure, with the top of the dome blown wide open.

  “It was foolish of me to come back here, proudly proclaiming myself to be victorious,” Kalic lamented, his hands touching the doors. He gave a gentle push, and they creaked open. “It was because of me that Lorine fell. I became the…”

  Kalic stopped in his tracks, his voice trailing off. It was here, the throne room of Lorine, that Erendil felt the dark presence at its strongest. There, on the throne, sat someone who Erendil recognized as one of the creatures from the Isle of Undeath.

  Kalic fell to his knees, the clattering of plate echoing throughout the room. “V—Vanessa?”

  The creature, as equally shocked, pressed her hands to her chest. “Kalic, my love… thou came, after all…”

  _ _ _

  “This is as far as we’re gonna get on horseback,” Darius said, the four of them gathered at one of the highest points in Poisonpoint Canyon overlooking a series of crevasses and ravines.

  Arwynn could hear a river roaring from down below, and she looked down to a hundred foot drop. The only way across was a shoddily placed bridge that was as old as it was rickety. At even the slightest of breezes it swung like a pendulum.

  “Horses won’t cut it for the desert, anyway,” Raxxil said as he dismounted. “Let them loose. We’ll carry our supplies the rest of the way.”

  Arwynn stood on the edge of the cliff and pulled on one end of the thick rope that tied the bridge together. “Are you sure this is safe to walk on?”

  “There’s no other way to the desert,” Raxxil said, rushing past Arwynn and stepping onto the bridge without much regard to whether or not it was going to snap under him.

&
nbsp; Arwynn watched as the other two followed after Raxxil, and she cringed at every step they took just waiting for something bad to happen. But it didn’t, and she ended up looking the fearful fool in front of Raxxil as he looked back in impatience.

  Is reckless bravado the ticket?

  Arwynn sighed, placed a hand on the top right rope of the bridge to steady herself, and then took a step forward. The wind picked up, and she froze. She held onto the bridge with both hands until the wind subsided, and then continued.

  By the time she had reached the middle, Raxxil was already at the other end, Darius was just about to step off the bridge, and Samantha was just a few steps behind him.

  Another gust of wind came in, and Arwynn hugged one of the bridge’s ropes like a bear, her eyes darting to the long fall below. The river roared, small waves crashing against the sides of the cliffs on both ends. When the wind did not relent, she closed her eyes.

  “Tanaria!” she heard Raxxil call, but before she could blurt out her grievance against the name, she heard the snapping of rope that drowned out all sound.

  She felt herself plummeting, and when she opened her eyes, Arwynn was already halfway to the river. Just above her was Samantha, and beyond Samantha stood thumb-sized Raxxil and Darius watching in horror above.

  Arwynn turned her body so that she descended face-first. She imagined diving into the water and hoping that it was deep enough. If she didn’t crack her skull open in the fall, then there was the current to deal with, and who knows where it led.

  Despite happening so quickly, time appeared to have slowed. A thousand thoughts flashed through her mind, a good chunk of them revolving around Raxxil. Maybe under different circumstances, Arwynn would have given in to whatever would happen.

  But it was in that moment that she promised herself to survive, despite such improbable odds. She placed her palms on top of one another, extended her fingers, and moved her arms ahead of her. She then closed her eyes, awaiting the collision with the water.

  She felt another gale whip her body, only this time it halted her descent until she felt herself being flung back into the air in the opposite direction of gravity. Opening her eyes, Arwynn faced the sky above. Next to her floated Samantha, her arm outstretched like she was trying to grab onto the sun. Perspiration poured down her face, her breaths ragged in exertion.

  Not a moment later did Arwynn’s feet touch the ground next to Raxxil and Darius, who were nothing short of freaking out. Samantha landed next to Arwynn, although not half as graceful. She kind of rolled forward until she came to a stop in a kneeling position.

  “That was too close,” Darius said after a big sigh escaped his lips.

  Raxxil ran past Arwynn and over to Samantha, helping her to stand. Arwynn crossed her arms, wearing her jealousy like a vest. Still no one noticed, and she squeezed her arms until they ached.

  “Are you well, Tanaria?” Raxxil asked a moment later after he asked Samantha the same thing.

  “I’m okay,” Arwynn snapped, her eyes glossing over Samantha. “So that was your wind, wasn’t it?”

  “Yes,” said Samantha after catching her breath. “That took a lot more effort than it should have.”

  Raxxil chuckled. “I wonder how you ever trained in Lenas. Your body is ill-suited for Onturi’s climate.”

  “Strange, isn’t it?” Samantha replied not-so-inconspicuously.

  Arwynn looked back at the bridge that no longer existed. She leaned over the side of the crevasse, finding the ropes a good bit down the current and caught by some jagged rocks.

  “There’s no going back this way,” Darius said.

  “Let’s call it a sign from God,” Raxxil remarked.

  No one laughed.

  The four of them stood by the precipice until Samantha was ready to go, then continued onward. Arwynn could see a series of hills, rocks, and crevasses just like the one behind them all the way to the horizon. Those who had named this place Poisonpoint Canyon only got it half right. They should have called it ‘Poisonpoint and Deadlydrop Canyon’.

  Arwynn sped up, or rather slowed down, until she was shoulder-to-shoulder with Samantha. The energy to summon such a powerful gale had left its toll on Samantha, adding to the exhaustion that she was already dealing with.

  Nudging Samantha, Arwynn wanted to say a few things. The redhead looked over at her, but all Arwynn did was look away and brush her hair behind her ear.

  “Thanks,” was all that she could muster up, and she bit her lip in frustration. It was rude to stop there, especially to someone who had just saved her life. She looked over at Samantha. “Thanks for saving my life.”

  “Well done!” rang Cadence inside Arwynn’s mind like she had passed a test.

  Samantha gave Arwynn a smile, albeit a weak one. “I would have done nothing less.”

  Somehow, those words left Arwynn both touched and seething at the same time.

  _ _ _

  The year was 4917, and Lorine was on the verge of collapse. Of course, only a select few in the kingdom knew of it, namely the royalty and a few knights such as Kalic.

  Although the kingdom had stood proud for nearly a century, its walls were being whittled down little-by-little by Corsma both physically and metaphorically. With every attack, the dragon crushed stone or singed flesh, a portion of the kingdom’s resources dissipating in one way or another.

  Whether it be to repair its walls, or replenish crucial food stores for both the kingdom and the surrounding villages, Lorine was losing the war against that blasted dragon. It wasn’t enough that Kalic’s armor, and the armor of the Knights of Lorine, resembled that of Corsma, with flared pauldrons and horned tips.

  They even wore dragons emblazoned on their shields, as if resembling their sworn enemy would grant them the strength to bring it down. A child’s fabrication, of course, but it had been that way even since Kalic was barely old enough to lift a wooden sword.

  While the king seemed too preoccupied with Corsma to deal with the growing scourge that happened to be bandits terrorizing the outer villages and, amusingly, causing similar destruction, Kalic was all too aware of the encroaching dangers.

  The latest was a roving gang attempting to take control of Olim, one such outer village. Many homes had been reported to be vandalized or otherwise invaded as of late, and as such many families, many of which were poorer than a merchant’s dog, had sought the king’s aid in protection.

  Something that Lorine promised to all of its citizens.

  “Kalic?” asked a soft voice, bringing Kalic out of his thoughts.

  Kalic looked up to regard a youthful and bright face. “My apologies, Princess Vanessa.”

  The princess let out a small giggle. “Come now, Kalic. A knight should stand, should he not?”

  “Only if Your Majesty, the Queen, or thou asks me too,” he said, his eyes resting on the ground a few feet ahead of him.

  There were three seats in Lorine’s throne room. One for the king, which rested in the forefront and was the largest and most lavished. One to his right, who sat the queen, and one to his left, where the princess sat. Should there have been more than one child of the king and queen, Kalic imagined that there would have been more seats.

  The throne room itself was the shape of a dome, resting in the heart of Lorine, elevated above the rest of the kingdom. Just outside were terraces where one could view the rest of the kingdom, and of course, the mountains of Corsma.

  Every time the dragon attacked, the throne was the first to be alerted. So far, the dragon had yet to reach the king, though she certainly tried. Most attacks occurred at the walls or just inside the kingdom, but she was getting close.

  The reason for Kalic’s summons, or so he guessed.

  “Then I ask thou to rise,” said Princess Vanessa before the king did.

  Kalic did as he was told, his eyes moving from the ground to the opposite end of the room where the three sat. Two knights stood guard at the doors behind him, otherwise leaving Kalic alone with the
most important people in all of Terra Sur.

  “This humble knight answers his summons,” Kalic said with a swift salute.

  “Humble knight?” asked the princess. “The Captain of the Knights of Lorine is not a humble position, Kalic.”

  “Shush, Vanessa,” said King Fuin. “No proper suitor will court such a noisy princess.”

  The princess shifted in her seat, crossing her legs and placing a hand on her face as she leaned on her arm. The queen remained silent, as she did most of the time.

  “Kalic,” began the king as he pressed his fingers together. “Thy presence was summoned here to enact a proper course of action against Corsma.”

  The princess sat upright and leaned forward in shock, and the two exchanged glances. She gave him concern, and he gave her resolve.

  “But Father,” Vanessa said in protest, “no man has ever come back from—“

  “Silence, girl!” said the king, his words ringing throughout the room. He shifted his attention back to Kalic. “Kalic, thou will take a party of thy best knights to the dragon’s lair. Rid Lorine of this troublesome beast.”

  “Your Majesty, shouldn’t Dalus also be here to hear of this?” Kalic asked.

  “Hear of what?” said Dalus from behind Kalic, the sound of doors closing just a moment later.

  Kalic turned to regard his most loyal knight and childhood friend. The two grabbed each other’s arm and placed their opposite hands on the others’ shoulder. Where Kalic was the Captain of the Knights of Lorine, Dalus was his right-hand man.

  If anything, Kalic considered the both of them to be the captains.

  “The king wants us to rid Lorine of Corsma once and for all,” Kalic said.

  “Dalus will not be coming with thou,” said the king.

  Kalic looked over his shoulder, then back at Dalus in confusion. “I don’t understand.”

  “Lorine will need its acting-captain in the interim,” the king clarified, much to the shock of both Princess Vanessa and Kalic. Dalus, on the other hand, seemed not as shocked. “Corsma is not the only beast that plagues Lorine, so to speak. I have complete faith that thou will return victorious, Kalic.”