Ascension

by Selena IR Drake

  “You are pretty quick for an old man.”

  “And you are soon to be one dead Dákun Daju whore!”

  Luna’s white eyes narrowed dangerously, all amusement wiped from her expression. She released her hold on the axe blade and rolled away as the Judge swung. Luna jumped up on the bar only to back flip over the Judge’s head. She found her giant sword and unsheathed it in time to block a blow from the axe. She pushed against the weight of the fat Judge, forcing him to slide back across the floorboards with a harsh squeak.

  “You’re not just ugly. You’re weak!” Luna shouted. She shifted the force of her sword and caused the Judge to fall backward. Luna moved her sword to rest its blade at his jawbone “And I am not a whore.”

  The blade of the axe crashed into the wooden floorboards, sending splinters flying. Dimitri shifted his crimson gaze from the golden axe to the pinned Judge, then to Godilai. She had not moved during the scuffle. He doubted that she would have even bothered to assist Luna. He knew he would not. Luna was far stronger than any Hume and could handle herself perfectly fine against one old Judge.

  Dimitri sighed and returned his gaze to the Judge. “Let him up, Luna. Now that you’re done playing, we have work to do.”

  “Playing?” The Judge’s deep baritone vibrated the hairs of his overgrown mustache.

  “If she had been serious, you would not be living,” Godilai said, sitting at the table she previously vacated.

  Luna sheathed her sword with a scoff and sat opposite her clansman.

  “Then there must be a reason why you let me live.”

  “What is your name, Judge?” Dimitri asked.

  The old Judge found his footing at last and managed to stand. “I am Vincent DuCayne, one of the commanders of High Prince Valaskjalf’s Dragonsworn Battalion. And you would be who?” The Judge gripped the handle of his axe.

  Dimitri smirked. “I am Dimitri DéDos, son of the Keeper, Agasei, and heir to the twelve Shadow Dragons.”

  Vincent’s blimp of a face somehow formed a frown. “What do you take me for? Agasei had no son, and if he did, the boy would have died of old age centuries ago.”

  “That would be true if I was not made immortal through my father’s blood.” Dimitri looked into Vincent’s hazel eyes and saw the obvious distrust. “All right. Since you still do not believe me, how is this for proof: In the year AR sixty-seven, there was a war between a city of Dákun Daju and a large battalion of Humes. Though the war lasted just three months, both sides lost thousands. Among the fallen was a Dákun Daju woman named Solahnj, who had a son. When Solahnj died, the boy brought the Dákun Daju forces together and led them in a slaughter of most of the remaining Hume soldiers.”

  “Yeah, I read about that massacre in school. So what?”

  “So, the boy who led the Dákun Daju to victory was me.”

  The Judge still looked as skeptical as ever. “That is not possible.”

  Dimitri sighed in frustration. “How about we make a deal, Vincent? Assist me in proving my birthright to the world by finding and freeing the Shadow Dragons, and it will be within my power to give you anything you have ever wanted.”

  “Anything?”

  Dimitri nodded at the inquiry.

  “Money? Power? Women?”

  “Yes.”

  “So…” Vincent released his axe, “what is your plan?”

  “Luna, will you please fill him in on your idea.” Dimitri smiled and joined the duo of Dákun Daju at the table.

  “Four days from now is the Festival of the Phoenix. Since Prince Valaskjalf will be attending the festival, it is the perfect opportunity for us to sneak into the Temple to retrieve a particularly important artifact. We will have Dimitri here impersonate the high prince so we can have access to the Temple’s rare books room. We need you, Hume, to pretend Dimitri is your prince.”

  Vincent rubbed his chin. “I’m curious as to how you intend to take the high prince’s place. He travels with troops from the Dragonsworn, all of whom ride fighting wyverns.”

  “You command the Dragonsworn, do you not?” Godilai asked.

  “Only a small brigade. About one hundred men.”

  “That should be more than enough.” Dimitri nodded. “We will waylay the prince’s escort during his trek to the Temple. Your men will do nothing or face death by Dákun Daju blades. We will proceed to the Temple in the prince’s stead. The question for you, Vincent, is what road will Valaskjalf take when he and his escort ride out?”

  Vincent answered after a pause. “He is to ride a-wyvernback via the main road to Sindai then take the ferry to the Temple island.”

  “Good.” Dimitri untied the leather pouch from his belt and tossed it to Vincent. “That is just a taste of the wealth you will obtain when I rise to my birthright.”

  Vincent opened the pouch and dumped the pile of gold coins in his hand. He smiled. “You are most generous, my Prince.”

  My father once told me that the habits of evil men are their own undoing. It is because of this wisdom, that I know we are going to succeed. We will save this planet.

  – FROM “CONVERSATIONS WITH AMOREZ” BY DJURDAK ZA’CAR

  The Palavant’s door clicked shut behind me. I stood in the hallway, facing a smiling boy and the cool and aloof Dákun Daju, Zhealocera. The two looked like they were practically polar opposites. She was taller than him by head and shoulders and half a torso, which put him at just about my height. He had a dull brown mop of curly hair that fell into his chestnut colored eyes and his skin was a pale peach in color. Zhealocera was as skinny as a rail, while he had a bit more meat on his bones. They both wore matching school uniforms, but the badges on their collars were different. Her collar was emblazoned with a sword and blazing sun while his depicted a triangle with an eye in the center.

  The boy was the first to act, stepping closer to me and extending a hand for me to shake. “Good morning. My name is Ríhan. Healer Adrian sent me to help you find your way through the Temple.”

  I slowly reached out and shook his hand, and all the while wondered where I had heard his name before. Then it occurred to me, The Healer mentioned that a boy from the Temple had discovered me washed up on the shore. This must be him. “I am Xyleena.”

  “Nice to meet you, Xyleena. This here is Zhealocera,” Ríhan said as he pointed his thumb at her. “She is a Dákun Daju, and generally not very talkative.”

  Her rose colored eyes fixed on the back of his head, as if her icy glare would smack him upside the head if she stared long enough. He smirked as if sensing her gaze upon him, but did not turn to face her.

  “So, do you have any thoughts on where you would like to begin your tour?”

  I produced the scroll that the Matron had given me. It contained a list of all the classes offered at the Temple. “Can you help me with this?”

  His chestnut gaze flicked over the rolled up scroll. “Choosing classes, eh? That must mean you plan on sticking around here for a while. Do you know what job caste you would like to join?”

  “No.”

  “Oh.” He frowned briefly, but his smile came right back in full force. “How about interests? Do you like the arts? Or perhaps healing? Maybe you are more into a quiet life of a Philosopher.”

  I caught Zhealocera rolling her eyes at that.

  Ríhan went on dreamily, “Nothing beats sitting in a quiet room reading the ancient texts and learning all about the little details of history that no one ever pays attention to.”

  “That is your ideal profession,” muttered Zhealocera in a voice laced with boredom. Her rose colored eyes shifted to me, and I could almost feel her chilly gaze inspecting every millimeter from head to toe. At last she said, “She has the eyes and posture of a warrior who has seen much battle, not the appearance of one bent over ancient tomes with long faded words.”

  I look like a warrior? I thought. But that does not make any sense. The Palavant had just got done telling me that I was a traveling priestess; not a battling one. Though, if I reall
y was a warrior, that would explain the grim thoughts I had earlier this morning about how easy an attack on this Temple would be.

  Zhealocera must have read the confusion on my face for she asked, “How much of yourself do you remember?”

  Her words pricked Ríhan’s curiosity, and the smile on his lips faded to a look of concern. When I quietly admitted to knowing nothing of my past except what little the Palavant had revealed, the odd pair looked at each other for a moment, then returned their attention to me.

  Ríhan’s smile was back. “Then we will just have to help you remember.”

  “I have an idea that may be of assistance to you,” replied Zhealocera. She had my full attention in an instant. “I suggest signing up for classes such as: zoology, to learn the creatures of this world; geography, to learn the lands and people; runic studies, so that you can be sure to read; definitely history, for obvious reasons; and make sure to sign up for martial combat. I can tell that you have been in battle, so perhaps sparring with a worthy opponent will jog some of the memories you are missing.”

  “That is only five classes, Zheal,” Ríhan piped in. “She needs at least six to have a full schedule with an off hour; seven if she does not want a break. I would suggest something spiritual, such as theology, especially since you mentioned that the Palavant had named you a Daughter of the Temple. As a priestess, you should definitely know about the Five Souls. Though I would recommend having that class scheduled at the end of your school day. Most of the priests and priestesses in charge are dull and tend to drone on.

  “And if you want a really fun elective subject for your seventh class, I would suggest astronomy. For three nights out of each seven-day, you can go out to the astrolabe and learn about all the star constellations in the sky and planets in the Rishai System. It is a fun class that starts about an hour after dusk and lasts about two to three hours.”

  Zhealocera shook her head. “I will never understand you Humes and your obsession with the sky and naming everything. This planet, its twin, and the three moons did not even have names before your ancestors arrived. After their landing, everything had names; even a rock formation in the desert was given a name.”

  “Naming things makes it easier for us to reference or picture in our heads, and understand,” Ríhan said with a shrug. “Besides, Dákun Daju name things; their cities for one. True, the names are more descriptions, such as the City of Long Winters or the City of Thundering Falls and my personal favorite the legendary City of Thieves, but it is generally the same concept.”

  Zhealocera fixed Ríhan with an icy stare but did not reply.

  “So,” Ríhan clapped his hands together and rubbed them as if warming them over a fire, “where would you like to begin your tour of the school?”

  I had almost forgotten about that. “I am not sure, but I was told there is a leatherer here that can craft me a new pack. I would like to stop there.”

  “Ergen’s workshop is next door to my martial combat class, which I must attend after the next bells sound,” said Zhealocera. “Perhaps you would like to start there; meet with Enforcer Maaz, and decide if his class would be appropriate for helping to return your memories of your glorious battles to you.”

  Ríhan shuddered. “You Dákun Daju and your love of fighting.”

  “It is in the heat of battle that the true character of a man or woman can be discovered and judged.” The words escaped me before I had even realized it. Ríhan was taken aback while Zhealocera nodded approvingly. Without a word, the Dákun Daju spun on her heel and strode away.

  “I will give you one thing, Xyleena,” Ríhan said as he and I started down the hall after Zhealocera, “you are full of surprises.”

  ◆◆◆

  The mid-day bells had sung their dismal chorus only moments ago. Ríhan and I stood with our backs were to the northernmost wall of the massive dining hall. The two of us had been the first to arrive in the hall, as if his guided tour had been planned that way. I had asked him about his timing, and he had laughed and said it was purely luck that we happened to be passing the dining hall just before the mid-day bells rang out.

  We were at the very end of a long row of tables and farthest from the double doors that led to a main hallway (the best spot to sit according to Ríhan). In front of us were four more rows of tables, identical to the one we were situated at. To my immediate left was a pair of smaller round tables, which were set up around a pentagram-shaped stage that housed a single round table. Two more round tables stood on the south side of the stage, mirroring the pair closer to me. Each table had already been dressed and set for the mid-day meal, and the silver glinted with the light of the suns that filtered through the overhead windows.

  Another stage, a little higher than the pentagram-shaped one was against the wall opposite the main doors. It stretched the width of the room and was wide enough for three people to walk abreast. An enormous hearth stood atop the stage and fixed to the wall. A trio of tapestries depicting water and ice hugged the white stone walls behind it. Pass-through windows with wide, marble counters sat on either side of the mantle. The false walls that had been down when Ríhan and I strode in were now up, and I could barely make out parts of the kitchen beyond. The kitchen drudges were beginning to move the heavy platters from the counters to the tables. There was fruit and greens, roast meats and fresh-baked bread, and drinks and desserts. The mix of spices and seasonings and sweet glazes made my mouth water in anticipation.

  “Technically speaking,” Ríhan muttered as the room began to fill with students and teachers and priests, “since you are a Daughter of the Temple, you should be at one of the round tables closer to the Palavant’s stage, not here at the rows with the students who have not graduated yet.”

  “Should I move?” I asked as I watched everyone file into the room. I had been looking for Zhealocera; instead I found that strange woman that I had crossed paths with outside the Healers’ Wing earlier this morning. She still donned the white cloak affixed with the sigil of a golden hammer and wreath of silver olive branches.

  I saw Ríhan shrug out of the corner of my eye. “You can if you want to. I would do it soon though; once the Palavant enters, you won’t be able to switch.”

  “You see that lady with the red hair and white cloak?”

  “The Judge? Sure. What about her?”

  Judge. That is what rank the sigil on her cloak stood for. My eyes were glued to her as she moved across the room. I lost her momentarily as a group of students rushed past her, but she reappeared at the round table that had been set on the stage.

  Ríhan continued, “It is very rare to see a Judge here at the Temple. Most of them are situated in Bakari-Tokai or other major cities, where they work in tandem with Enforcers as upholders of the High King’s laws. Why are you so interested in her?”

  I forced myself to look away from the woman. “I have seen her twice already, and both times I got the distinct feeling that I know her.”

  “Maybe you do,” he offered. “After all, you knew the Palavant, but you had no recollection of that. Perhaps you do know the honored Judge. If that is true, then she may be able to help fill in some of the missing pieces.”

  My muttered response was swallowed by the chorus of bells. Students and teachers and priests alike all rushed to their places, and stood patiently behind their chairs or benches. Silence descended upon the room as the last, echoing bong died away. After what felt like an eternity to an empty stomach like mine, Palavant Celestia strode in through the double door entrance. Matron Serenitatis and an Archbishop were right beside her, helping to guide her through the rows of tables and up to her honored seat atop the pentagram-shaped stage. After she was seated and comfortable, she lifted a tiny silver bell from the table in front of her and jingled it.

  The entire room exploded with noise movement. I had barely a moment to sink onto the bench beside Ríhan when one of the drudges handed me a large platter leaden with meats. Ríhan was quick to spear a good selection of the sli
ces for both of us before I was forced to pass the platter along. A deep bowl of creamy, mashed tubers followed the meat. Then a bowl of mixed vegetables. Then a platter of breads, and then another platter, and another. When at last the plates and bowls ceased coming, I discovered that a mountain of food had covered my plate. As hungry as I was, I was not so sure I could eat all of it.

  I must have been looking at the heap in awe for Ríhan started to chuckle. “Make sure you save room for dessert.”

  I shot him a look that hopefully relayed my dismay. He just laughed harder.

  The room quieted as mouths were put to work chewing and drinking. After a while, the conversation started picking up again. The boy sitting in front of Ríhan leaned in to ask, “Hey, Ríhan, can you help me with my Kinös Elda homework? I’m having troubles with the possessives.”

  “Ah.” Ríhan nodded in understanding. “Possessives are a cinch. I can show you a few examples during your study hour today.”

  “What is Kinös Elda?” I asked.

  The boy across the table looked at me in shock, like he could not believe what he had just heard. Ríhan, on the other hand, smiled and said, “Kinös Elda, or Nature Tongue, is a very rare language today, but in the times of the Earthic Landings, it was originally developed in order to communicate with the Dákun Daju, and later used by the Sorcerers for magic.”

  “Can you speak it?”

  Ríhan nodded, “Speak it and read it. Fluency in Kinös Elda is a requirement for graduating to the rank of Philosopher. I am in my fifth year of study, so I am able to help students like Timney, who is in his first year.”

  “I would love to hear this strange language.”

  “Meoja rité ker chiiripan tehr zāto,” said Ríhan, then he translated. “We will have pie for dessert.” And pointed at a kitchen drudge, who was making her way over to me with a huge platter full of tiny pies. Before I could move to assist her with her load, she sat the platter on the edge of the table. The pies were quickly dispersed along the row, then another drudge with more pies arrived.