by KJ Harlow
Cal started running, shoving soldier and eryn aside. He kept his eyes fixed on the golem. It only needed two steps before it could crush the house. He glanced up at the Sibelle. He would need to make the biggest, thickest Earth Wall ever to stop the creature from destroying the house and the people who lived there.
The golem stopped and drew a house-sized fist back. He holstered his axe, leapt then slammed his hands into the ground.
“Earth Wall!”
An explosion of force blasted air out from its epicentre. Cal braced himself into the ground. Had he created the Earth Wall in time? He looked up.
The house had shifted off its foundations by four or five feet. It would have to be resecured, but it was still standing. In front of it was Cal’s Earth Wall. Looked to be about 15 feet thick and wide and about 20 tall. One of his best to date.
“Noooooo!” Cist’s piercing shout of agony ripped into Cal’s heart. Cal scrambled up and pressed his face into the ward.
Fairshade was standing in front of Cal’s Earth Wall, arms out either side. The golem’s fist had crushed into his body neck down into it. All that remained of Fairshade was his head sitting atop the golem’s fist.
33
Long Live The King
20,156th Cycle
11-Sibelle
The ward dissolved and Cal stumbled through. Fetter was spouting more bullshit but he blocked it all out. He ran over to Fairshade, ignoring the golem.
“King Fairshade.” Kai and Cist had joined him, staring in horror at the pool of blood collecting beneath the golem’s fist.
Please don’t be dead yet.
His eyes were open but glazed. After 10 seconds, he blinked and coughed. “Cal.” He could barely get the single syllable out.
“The…” he winced. “…Houses.”
Cal nodded, boosting himself up with an Earth Wall. He was at eye level with the king.
“Finish…” The golem pulled its fist away. Cal clawed at the air as Fairshade’s head fell to the ground. The orc jumped off his platform and ran over to where the head rolled to. Kai was vomiting while Cist stared at his king’s remains crushed into Cal’s Earth Wall.
Whatever blood remained in Fairshade’s head was dribbling out of his neck. His skin became paler and paler. Somehow, he managed to close his eyes and lift the corners of his mouth into a smile.
Cal sat on his haunches, staring at the head.
Thump.
His heart beat was loud – too loud.
Thump.
He swayed as he got to his feet. Fetter was laughing maniacally. It got louder and louder like an oncoming train.
Thump.
He turned to face Fetter. The golem loomed over him but Cal didn’t pay it any attention. He drew his axe and pointed it at the king.
“I, Callahan Rogers, challenge you, Fetter Knox, for the throne of Dresham.”
Everything stopped. Even the Sibellian moonbeams in the air seemed to pause as they bore witness to the incredible scene. The first thing that started moving again was Fetter’s thin lips.
“You? Ch-challenge me?” Fetter snickered then laughed harder before clutching his stomach as the comedy consumed him. Cal kept his axe pointed at him until he recovered.
“Firstly,” Fetter said, wiping tears out of his eyes. “Now that I’m king, I’m doing away with this stupid ass law. But because you made me laugh until I almost p-pissed myself, I’ll make an exception for you.”
He erupted into giggles again before clearing his throat. “Actually, I’ll s-sweeten the deal. You can bring your p-pussy cat and the ninja over there as well. How’s that sound?” He doubled over, hands on his knees. “It’ll be three-on-one but who gives a flying f-fuck?”
His laughs were finally running out of gas; he stood up straight. “Let’s do it at the front of my castle. It’s a big open area there and I won’t have too go far to crush you. I’ve got some more king stuff to do so I’ll fit you guys in on… 15-Sibelle. Soon enough for you?”
Cal brought the axe back in and drove the hilt of it into the ground. “Wait, I don’t have to ask you. I’m the king, so I set the rules!” Cal rolled his eyes as Fetter began his royal titters anew. “Golem!” Cal froze, clutching the axe close to his body.
Fetter licked his lips. “Retreat.” The golem walked backwards, putting one foot back into the hole before folding the other one in. It slowly lowered itself in nestling its arms, then shoulders then head into the ground. Cal blink and suddenly, it was just regular, cobblestoned earth again.
“Soldiers!” Fetter shouted. The men, women and eryn around jumped to attention. “Back to the castle, now. I believe my victory calls for a celebration.” Fetter leered at the party of three once more before turning around, his robe flapping behind him.
Cal and Kai stared at the polished, dark wood box. It was about three by three feet and a bit over one deep. Cist was leaning against the wall in the shadows behind him.
“That’s all of him?” Cist didn’t say anything. Kai rubbed his chest and breathed in and out slowly.
“There wasn’t really… much of him left,” the werejaguar said.
Cal continued staring at the crate. Fairshade was larger than life. To think that what remained of him: his head, part of a leg and a hand fit inside this box was sobering.
Cist finally spoke. “We’ll store his remains somewhere. He deserves a proper burial.” He shifted and started to leave.
“Cist.” The leader of the Lightblades stopped. “I’m sorry.”
Cist pulled the cover over his mouth and slipped out of the room.
“If only I had some sparkleaf…” Kai growled then cast a sideways glance at Cal. “For sparkfire, I meant. It’s the best way to burn the dead.”
“You don’t have to fight with me, you know,” Cal said.
Kai stared at the crate.
“I want to fight with you.” He looked at Cal, his red cat eyes gleaming. “I can’t let you get eviscerated by that… fucker.” Cal raised an eyebrow. “Did I use that right?”
He smiled. “Yeah. But seriously. If I die, I just respawn. You don’t and neither does Cist. Once you’re dead, you’re dead.”
“He killed Zkar.”
Cal raised an eyebrow. “Laish killed Zkar on Hector’s command.”
Kai shook his head. “He killed Zkar and he killed Fairshade so Cist and I will be seeking our revenge.”
“Pretty sure Fairshade said not to let revenge consume you.”
“It’s driving me, not blinding me. If it starts getting dangerous, I’m going to abandon you and escape.”
Cal chuckled. “You really have grown.”
“Now you’re starting to sound like Grandmother,” Kai said, his eyes on Fairshade’s remains.
Keizen. He hadn’t spoken to her since Bracewell. So much had happened since that night; she deserved to know what was going on.
“You reckon I can borrow your amulet for a while?”
“Keizen.”
The amulet was cool on his neck and suddenly became warm when the old werejaguar’s voice came through.
“Callahan. Here I was thinking that you had forgotten all about me.”
He laughed sheepishly. “I’ve… been busy.”
“Well you can tell me all about it. The village has been thankfully peaceful as of recent and I find myself with more free time than I’m used to.”
Cal lay down on the bed. The room in the chambers of Lightblade HQ was quiet. He couldn’t even hear anyone walking around outside. Guess that had to be expected for a community of assassins.
He told Keizen about everything that had happened after they fought Fetter in Bracewell, from stumbling across the camp he stayed at outside the city to meeting the Lightblades, to going into and leaving the Catacombs with Fairshade, finally rounding up with the battle and demise of the king. Keizen was quiet the entire time, the amulet pulsing on his chest.
“So he had been alive all this time.”
“Yes.” Cal paused. “He was a good man
and an even better king. He just… got a bit lost along the way. He was so scared of death when we found him but in the end he embraced it, like it was an old friend.” That must have been why he was smiling at the very end.
“And now you want to avenge his death by challenging Fetter?”
“Yeah. Keizen you should see guy. He is the biggest piece of–”
“Do you remember the prophecy?”
Cal went quiet. “Prophecy?”
“The sparkfire. The dark flames. The prophecy.”
It suddenly hit him. “Oh right of course. The prophecy. Yeah what about it?”
Now it was Keizen’s turn to be quiet. “Do you remember how it went?”
Cal frowned. Where was Keizen going with this? “I don’t remember the specific lines.”
Keizen sighed then started reciting it:
Fear not, for the son of the forest is safe in my care.
He will lead the feline race out of the darkness.
Neither blade nor craft can defeat me.
If I perish, lament not, for I will be reborn within half a moonshift.
Only the hands of the Urath can remove me from this world, and my own.
My purpose is to save Terrafaytum before the Slumbering Catastrophe awakens.
This is my mission – and mine alone.
“You’re worried about the ‘hands of Urath removing me from this world’ part, right?” He took Keizen’s silence as acknowledgement. “I mean, these prophecies aren’t that accurate right? They’re more symbolic than literal. Take the last line. ‘This is my mission – and mine alone.’ It clearly isn’t; Kai has been with me from the beginning and is still with me. There’s another guy, Cist, the leader of–”
“The prophecy never lies, Callahan. Its meanings may be misunderstood, but it will always speak the truth.”
A chill ran down Cal’s neck. “Apparently if Fetter dies, he’s dead for good as well.”
“Do you intend to take away his life?”
Cal opened his mouth but nothing came out. “I… I don’t know.”
“Well the by the sounds of it, he would be more than willing to take away yours.”
Cal and Kai had spent the last couple moonshifts underground in the Lightblades’ hideout. Cal had come up, breathing in the fresh air and revelling in the earthy scents and smells that wafted in from beyond the city. Cist was standing a little outside the entrance of the hideout, staring up at the earth moon.
“Hello Cist.”
“Kai, Cal. How are you both?”
They looked at each other. “We’re… well. Preparing for this battle,” Kai said.
Cist didn’t speak, waiting until he was more than a hundred paces away from the secret entrance of the hideout.
“Mm. There isn’t much point worrying, is there?”
Cal turned and stood in front of Cist. “You shouldn’t fight with us. Now that Fetter is king, your job to protect the city is even more important.”
Cist stared at him calmly. “Correct, which is why it’s so important that I fight with you in a few moonshift’s time.”
He stepped around Cal and continued walking. The orc and werejaguar exchanged a look and caught up to the leader of the Lightblades.
“It will be really dangerous,” Cal said lamely.
The Lightblade laughed, cold and merciless. “Danger is afraid of the Lightblades.”
Cal looked at Kai again. The werejaguar shot a sharp look at Cist’s back.
“You have a son–”
Cist spun around. “If you didn’t think that you could defeat him, then why challenge him in the first place?”
Cal stood rooted to the spot. “I…”
Cist stared at him. The fire from the sudden outburst had lit his eyes but was extinguishing itself as he waited for Cal’s answer, which never came.
“You’re right. I do have a son. He’s going to grow up with that Hyten-forsaken tyrant sitting atop the throne. Yes, I could retreat to the shadows, take out the increasing number of cremlins that will crawl the streets of Thaylia and raise him to do the same.”
He took a step towards Cal. “Or I could fight by your side and use all the power I have gained in my lifetime to take down the biggest monster to date, potentially restoring Thaylia to what Fairshade wanted it to be.”
Cal clenched his fist then relaxed. Cist was right. Fairshade had asked him to finish building the houses. They could build them only to have Fetter destroy them every time or they could destroy Fetter and build houses happily ever after. The choice was simple, but it wasn’t easy.
Cist grasped Cal by the shoulders. “I’m not sure if you consider yourself stupid or brave to challenge Fetter to a duel. Whatever the case, I believe in you. Completely, whole-heartedly. Question is, do you believe in yourself?”
He let go of him, turned around and started walking down the path again. Kai paused and stared at Cal. He looked like he was going to say something but decided against it, catching up to Cist.
Cal stood there, alone, in the middle of the path. He unsheathed the minotaur’s axe and looked at his reflection in the double-crescent moon blade. His tusks had grown again. Straightened, they might have been about eight, nine inches. Grooves lined his face where there hadn’t been any before.
This wasn’t him. He was some sad sack of shit sitting in a hospital bed waiting to die. Who was this bad-ass orc a few moonshifts out from taking on an absolute cunt of a tyrant? Also him, apparently.
And then there was the matter of actually being king. It was almost as daunting as taking on Fetter itself. He knew nothing about leading people, let along running a kingdom. Growing up, he was the guy who always melted into shadows. He couldn’t play sports, was a solid B minus student and certainly didn’t have the charisma that made people gravitate towards him.
Still, this was his life now. He had chosen this, just like Fairshade had chosen to surrender his life valiantly at the very end. He was an immortal, but he could die if Fairshade had his way with him. Alternatively, he could high tail it out of here right now, run as far and as fast as he could and just play ValorVale until his body on earth eventually carked.
It didn’t really matter whether it was on ValorVale or on Earth: he would eventually die.
Cal swung the axe back over his shoulder. “Hey guys, wait up.”
Sweat collected at the bottom of Cal’s right tusk. It hung precariously for a moment then dripped onto the ground. It was slick with blood, gristle and other unimaginable monster gore. Cal drove the hilt of his axe into the floor and looked to his right.
Kai and Cist had teamed up and were pushing back a particularly persistent horde of rotters. They worked really together. Cist would create a Lightclone, form a Lightblade and pass one end over to it. He would make sure that the Lightblade wasn’t infused with too much mana, just enough to restrict and bind them but not cut straight through them.
Prime Cist and clone Cist would speed around the group, round them up like cattle and close the Lightblade around them. Kai would then go to town. He had been practicing his Fireballs, making them as big as he could while maintaining control over them, launching them from a higher vantage point and generally making them more deadly.
Cal squinted and looked at the Fireball he had just created. It was nearly 10 feet in diameter, nearly double the size of his earlier ones. It was slower, but when it collided with the rotters, the air filled with screeches and the smell of scorched, rotten flesh.
Kai stood back and waited until his Fireball ran out of steam. He did a quick body count. “59 out of 70.” He looked at Cist, eyes reflecting the fire flickering in the torches along the wall.
Cist gave him half a smile. “You can do better.” The Lightblade released the mana-infused string of light. The remaining rotters lashed out, ambling or running towards their closest targets. Kai drove his lance into three rotlords, landing a critical hit with his last drive. Cist lured half a dozen rotters away from the rest of the group, pierced their d
ecayed brains with pinpoint accurate throws before rushing the last one. He drove a thicker dagger into where its heart would have been and ripped across its chest, jumping away before green miasma leaked out from the cavity.
That left two rotlords, which were running at Cal. He held the long-handled axe in both hands, waiting for his opportunity. He swung early, aiming at the feet of the closer rotlord. It had the intelligence to jump. Cal came back around and swung again, this time connecting with the airborne zombie. He kicked the still running legs with the bottom of his boot, dodging the swiping arms of the torso.
He turned his attention to the last rotlord, which had stopped dead in its tracks. It spun around; Cist was to its 8 o’clock while Kai was to its four. It looked back at Cal then bolted left, narrowly evading Kai’s lance.
“Let it go,” Cal said.
Kai had started running when he heard Cal. “Why?”
Cal paused. “We wouldn’t have been able to gain that much more EXP from beating it.” He avoided Cist’s penetrating gaze, watching the last rotlord disappear around the corner.
“We’re making good progress,” Cist said. He flicked open his status screen and inspected it. “For the next round of monsters that come through, you and I should partner up.” He said, glancing at the orc.
Cal ambled over to the rotter he had just slashed in half. He ripped off a piece of cloth and wiped the blackened gore off the axe blade.
“I’m scared,” Cal mumbled.
“What?” Cist said from behind him.
“I’m scared!” Cal’s voice echoed around the large, empty chamber. He flung the cloth back onto the half-corpse. “I shouldn’t be scared. This is just a game, after all. I know you don’t know what I’m talking about but…”
Cist looked at him calmly, arms by his side. He sheathed his blades and walked up to Cal. “Do you know when I feel scared?” Cal shook his head. “Before every, single battle, no matter how great or small.”
His eyes seemed to glow faintly in the darkness as he regarded Cal. “I love being scared because that means that I’m going in the right direction.” He clapped a hand on his shoulder. “You are going in the right direction.”