by Clayton Wood
“Stop,” he ordered, “...or die.”
“Ah, the great Kalibar,” the guard sneered, striding toward Bartholos. The fallen Grand Runic grunted, pushing Rivin's body off of himself. A gravity shield appeared around him, but a few runes on the guard's armor flashed, and Bartholos's shield quickly vanished. The guard reached into the recesses of his armor, withdrawing a small dagger. He walked right up to Bartholos, shoving the Grand Runic's chest down with his boot.
“No!” Kyle heard Ariana cry. He heard footsteps running toward the guard. The guard's head jerked toward the sound, and suddenly Ariana appeared out of thin air a few feet from the guard. The guard smirked at her, the air between them rippling. She flew backward into one of the couches, knocking it over, and landed on the floor with a loud thump.
“Ariana!” Kyle cried, rushing toward her. He skidded to a halt by her side, kneeling before her. The guard stood over Bartholos, grinding the heel on his boot into the man's chest. Another gravity shield appeared around the Grand Runic, but again, it vanished.
“Traitor!” Bartholos gasped, clutching at the assassin's boot. The guard said nothing, reaching down and drawing the wicked blade of the dagger across Bartholos's neck. His flesh gaped open, blood spurting from the wound.
“No!” Kyle cried.
The guard stood then, moving away from Bartholos, circling around Kalibar. Bartholos clutched at his own neck with both hands, his eyes wide, blood spurting from between his fingers. He rose to his knees, blood pouring from his mouth. He coughed, then gagged, vomiting bright red liquid onto the granite floor.
“Tell me,” the guard stated casually, continuing to circle around Kalibar. “How are you going to kill me if you can't even see me?” He lobbed the dagger toward Kalibar, and it landed on the granite floor, sliding to a halt a foot in front of the former Grand Weaver. Kalibar tensed, his jawline rippling.
Suddenly the front door burst open, and a dozen guards in black swarmed in. The assassin stopped circling, and pointed right at Kalibar.
“He assassinated the Grand Weaver and Grand Runic!” he declared, gesturing at the dagger lying at Kalibar's feet.
The crowd of guards glanced at Kalibar, then at the bodies of the Grand Runic and Grand Weaver. Kyle stayed where he was behind one of the couches, shaking Ariana's limp shoulder frantically. She moaned, her eyes fluttering open, then closing again. Kyle felt a wave of relief...she was still alive! He glanced up, spotting a tall, well-built man with short black hair and a black goatee stride into the room, his black cloak rippling behind him. Kyle felt his guts twist in fear.
Orik!
The guards parted to let Orik through, and Orik stopped before the guard, staring at the bodies of the Grand Weaver and Grand Runic, then at Kalibar.
“Assassin!” he cried, pointing at Kalibar. “Guards, kill him!” Immediately, the guards ran toward Kalibar, magical shields flashing into existence around each of them. Kalibar drew himself up to his full height, facing the guards defiantly.
“You would kill Kalibar?” he bellowed, his voice resonating throughout the massive room. The guards slowed, then stopped, staring at the blind man before them. Recognition dawned...and the guards, to a man, took a step backward. Kalibar raised his right hand, pulling the red bandana off of his head and throwing it to the ground.
“You would accuse a cripple of being an assassin?” he cried.
A gasp went through the room, as everyone stared at Kalibar's sunken, empty eye sockets. Orik, however, stepped forward, unswayed.
“No doubt Bartholos and Rivin would have taken more than your eyes if you'd given them the chance,” he retorted. “Here you stand,” he added, pointing at the bloody dagger at Kalibar's feet, “...with the murder weapon at your feet, and you claim innocence?” He glared at the guards around him. “I said kill the man, damn it!”
“Stop!” came a loud shout. An elderly man in a white cloak ran into the room, followed by a few more men and women, each dressed in either a white or black cloak. The elderly man stormed past Orik, taking in the scene. When he turned his gaze to Kalibar, the old man's eyes widened.
“Dear god, Kalibar,” he gasped. “What happened to you?”
“He murdered Rivin and Bartholos,” Orik retorted. But the old man ignored Orik.
“Explain yourself Kalibar, and quickly,” he ordered. Orik stepped back, his jawline rippling. But he held his tongue.
“Good evening, Councilman Jax,” Kalibar greeted. “Orik claims that Rivin and Bartholos took my eyes when I tried to kill them,” he added. “Anyone with half a brain would realize my wounds were days old.”
“Granted,” the old man – Jax – agreed.
“Rivin's guard assassinated Rivin and Bartholos,” Kalibar accused. “And would have tried to kill me if you hadn't intervened.”
“That's a lie,” the assassin retorted. Jax turned to him, arching one eyebrow.
“Is it now?” he asked. Kyle stood up, facing the guard.
“Kalibar's telling the truth,” he declared, pointing at the assassin. “He killed Rivin and Bartholos!”
Everyone turned to face him, and Kyle swallowed in a suddenly dry throat, uneasy with the sudden attention. But he stood where he was, staring at the assassin defiantly.
“The boy is Kalibar's relative,” Orik countered. “His testimony is useless.”
“You seem eager to prosecute our former Grand Weaver,” Jax declared, turning a cold glare on Orik. “And eager to have him killed without so much as a trial.” His eyes narrowed. “One wonders why.”
“I'll tell you why,” a voice shouted from behind. A bald, heavyset man with a long white beard strode up the hallway into Rivin's suite, pointing a finger at Orik. Kyle's heart soared.
Erasmus!
“This bastard,” Erasmus spat, “...tried to assassinate Kalibar to win the election...twice. He failed...and now he's trying to finish the job.”
“That's a lie!” Orik shot back.
“Bullshit,” Erasmus retorted. “Kalibar told me about your little scheme over a week ago.”
“This is absurd,” Orik stated, turning to Jax. “He...”
“Shut up,” Jax interrupted.
“But...”
“I said shut up,” Jax repeated, “...or I'll have you arrested.” He stared Orik down. “You're not Grand Weaver yet, Councilman. And until you are, I'm in charge.”
Orik said nothing, his fists clenched at his sides.
“My god Kalibar,” Erasmus gasped in horror, hurrying to Kalibar's side. “What happened to your eyes?” Kalibar reached out, putting a hand on Erasmus's shoulder.
“We were attacked at Crescent Lake,” Kalibar replied. “By members of a cult. They called themselves 'Death Weavers,' and their leader called himself 'the Dead Man.' The Dead Man defeated me, and tore out my eyes with his bare hands.”
“My god,” Erasmus gasped.
“We only barely managed to escape,” Kalibar continued. “But during my imprisonment, the Dead Man made it quite clear that his greatest pupil – and the man who just seconds ago ordered my execution without trial – is Orik himself.”
A gasp rose from the crowd, and all eyes turned to Orik.
“This is madness,” Orik complained. “They're claiming I'm a member of a damned cult!” He turned back to Jax. “I ordered the death of the only man in the room present when our great leaders were murdered in cold blood!” He turned back to Kalibar and Erasmus. “Unless they want to pin that on me, too.”
Kyle heard Ariana groan, saw her eyes flutter open again. She sat up slowly, rubbing the side of her head. She glanced at Kyle, then turned to the men and women filling the room...and froze.
“I was not the only man present,” Kalibar retorted. “Rivin's guard is the assassin. Orik must have known that we'd escaped from his master's prison, and that we were returning here to tell Rivin and Bartholos. I suspect he is behind their assassination, as he was behind mine.”
“This is absurd,” Orik spat. He turned back
to the other members of the Council. “There isn't a single shred of evidence to support his claims. Do you honestly believe I did all of this?”
“I do,” a gruff voice replied from behind the Council members. A man walked through the door then, clad in pitted, light-gold armor, his piercing blue eyes locked onto Orik's.
“Darius!” Kyle cried.
“You must be the dead man,” Darius murmured, stopping before Orik. Orik stood his ground, glaring contemptuously at the bodyguard.
“Are you suggesting that I'm the leader of these 'Death Weavers' Kalibar invented?” he asked. Darius smirked.
“Nope, killed him,” the bodyguard replied.
Ariana stood up then, facing the guard who'd assassinated Rivin and Bartholos.
“He's the murderer,” she declared, pointing at the assassin while clutching her bloodied left temple. “I saw it all.” Everyone turned to her, including Jax.
“And you are?” he asked.
“Ariana,” she answered. “I was a prisoner of the Death Weavers for over a year, until they saved me,” she added, gesturing at Kyle, Kalibar, and Darius.
“I see,” Jax murmured. He turned to face the assassin. “Guards, arrest this man,” he ordered.
The guards rushed toward the assassin, gravity shields appearing around each of them. The assassin spun toward the nearest guard, the runes on his armor flashing. The guard's shield vanished, and the assassin slammed his gauntleted fist into the guard's chest. The guard flew backward, slamming into the gravity shield of the guard behind him and bouncing off. A flash of light burst outward from the assassin, searing Kyle's eyes. He cried out, turning away and throwing his hands up in front of his face. The light vanished as quickly as it had come, and Kyle opened his eyes.
The assassin was gone.
“Get him!” Jax ordered, a gravity shield appearing around him. “There!”
Kyle turned, spotting the assassin standing over Rivin's body, a long green crystal clutched in his hand. The assassin held the sharp point of the tapered crystal above the dead man's forehead, then plunged it downward. The tip of the crystal pierced the skin of Rivin's forehead, then sank deeper into the flesh. The assassin stood, backing away from the corpse. Jax's guards swarmed around the assassin, surrounding him. This time, he didn't resist, allowing them to restrain him and shove him chest-first into the floor.
Kyle stared at Rivin's forehead. To his horror, the crystal continued to slide deeper into Rivin's skull, sinking slowly until only the glimmering facets of the crystal's diamond-shaped base were visible. He felt a hand grab his wrist, and turned to see Ariana standing next to him, her eyes locked on Rivin's forehead. She was as pale as a ghost.
“So it's true,” Jax stated, his tone grim as he stared down at the assassin. “You are the murderer.”
The assassin said nothing, the smirk still on his lips.
“Kalibar was right,” Jax declared. The elder Councilman turned to face Orik. He glared at the man, then faced the other men and women in the room. “Ladies and gentlemen of the Council, I hereby enact the emergency powers vested in me by our deceased leaders, and assume temporary leadership of the Empire. Are there any objections?”
The room was silent.
Jax turned to face Orik. “As my first act, I hereby sentence you to solitary confinement while we investigate the accusations leveled against you.”
“But...” Orik began.
“And as you are accused of treason, I will use my emergency powers to veto any majority vote for your candidacy,” Jax continued.
Orik stood there silently, staring at Jax, his fists clenching and unclenching. Then he gave a tight smile.
“Oh, I think not.”
“Excuse me?” Jax replied, his eyebrows rising. “Guards...”
“In fact,” Orik interrupted, his voice growing louder, “...as my first act as Grand Weaver, I think I'll have you hanged. If my Master lets you live that long, that is.” His smile broadened. “I think you should turn around now.”
Jax hesitated, then turned around...and drew in a sharp breath. For there, standing in the middle of the room, was Grand Weaver Rivin.
“My god!” Jax exclaimed, taking a step backward.
Rivin stared at Jax, then at the guards and Councilmen around him. He raised his hand to the back of his head, then jerked it away, staring at the blood on his palm. His face was dreadfully pale, the green diamond-shaped gem in his forehead glittering in the light.
“What's...” Rivin began, then stopped, turning back to Jax. “What are you doing here?” He looked back down at his bloody hand. “What happened to me?”
Everyone stared at Rivin, their mouths agape.
“Grand Weaver Rivin...” Jax stated. He took another step backward.
“What's happening?” Kalibar demanded.
“Rivin's...alive,” Jax breathed.
“No,” Kyle countered. All eyes turned to him. “He's not alive,” Kyle insisted. “He's been turned into a Chosen, like the Dead Man.”
“What?”
“The boy's right,” the assassin declared, breaking into a smug smile. “And now you're all gonna die.”
“Shut up,” Jax growled, glaring at the assassin.
Without warning, the gem embedded into Rivin's forehead flashed bright green, shining like a miniature green sun.
Kyle's heart leapt into his throat, and he felt Ariana's fingers digging into his arm. He stumbled backward, his heel striking an end table, and nearly fell over it.
Rivin's posture shifted, his back straightening, his confused expression relaxing. He glanced down at himself, then turned his gaze to Jax and the other Councilmen.
“Good evening,” he greeted, nodding slightly. His voice was deeper than it had been moments before, booming throughout the huge suite. Goosebumps rose on Kyle's arms.
“Rivin?” Jax asked. Rivin paused for a few seconds, then shook his head.
“Rivin is dead,” he replied. “You now stand before Xanos incarnate.” He straightened his shirt, smoothing out the wrinkles, then glanced up at Jax and the other members of the Council.
“Kneeling would be appropriate,” he murmured.
An invisible force slammed into Kyle from above, forcing him down onto his knees on the granite below. Every last person in the room fell to their knees as well, their heads craning down in a bowing position. Kyle struggled against the power holding him down, but it was pointless. He couldn't move.
“Release us!” Kyle heard Jax bellow.
“As you wish,” Xanos replied.
Kyle felt the force pinning him down vanish, and he grunted, pulling himself to his feet. He grabbed Ariana's hand, helping her up.
“I regret having to use such a disturbing vessel to meet you all,” Xanos stated. “My true form is...indisposed.”
“Who the hell do you think you are?” Erasmus demanded, rising unsteadily to his feet. Xanos paused, then turned to the former Grand Runic.
“I understand your animosity,” Xanos replied evenly. “I had hoped to accomplish all of this far more...delicately.” He turned to Kalibar then. “A shame that everything I've created has been threatened by the actions of one man.”
“Agreed,” Orik stated, crossing his arms over his chest and glaring at Kalibar. Xanos paused, then turned to Orik, his expression stony.
“I was referring,” he murmured, “...to you.”
Orik's eyes widened, and his mouth dropped open. He took a step backward, shaking his head.
“But Master...”
“Your ambition is admirable,” Xanos interrupted. “Had you succeeded, it would have been forgivable.” He turned back to Kalibar. “You, Kalibar,” he continued, “...are a difficult man to kill.”
Kalibar said nothing.
“My Chosen who attacked your carriage on your way to Stridon...defeated,” Xanos stated. “My Chosen you call the Dead Man...defeated.” He stared at Kalibar unblinkingly, his pale lips tightening. “The two Chosen I sent after you to interce
pt you before you reached Stridon...defeated.”
“What are you talking about?” Kalibar retorted. Xanos stared at him for a moment longer, then frowned.
“You don't know,” he murmured. “Interesting.”
“Master...” Orik pleaded, but Xanos ignored him.
“Someone,” Xanos interrupted, “...has been killing my Chosen.” He swept his gaze across the room, at the guards, the Council, and Jax. He stared at Darius, then at Ariana and Kyle. “I'd like to know who.”
Jax scowled at Xanos, crossing his arms in front of his chest.
“Give me one reason why I shouldn't have you killed right now,” the elder Councilman demanded. “You dare threaten us?” he added. “We're...”
“I do,” Xanos interjected firmly, turning toward Jax.
Jax stood up tall, facing Xanos defiantly.
“You are facing the finest Weavers and Runics in the Empire!” he proclaimed.
“Unfortunately so,” Xanos agreed. “A tragedy, really. Two thousand years ago, any one of the 'Ancient' Councilmen could have beaten you. All of you. At once.” He smiled sadly. “I am the last of My kind,” he lamented. “And I alone can bring the Empire back to its former glory...and beyond.”
“What are you talking about?” Jax demanded. “Who are you?”
“I am the past,” Xanos answered. “And I am the future.” He smiled. “I am your shepherd,” he continued, gesturing at the Councilmen before him. “And you are My wayward flock.”
“You're speaking in riddles,” Jax protested.
“Yes, well,” Xanos replied. “Please understand this is all just a formality,” he added, spreading his arms wide. “There's no point in my answering your questions.”
“What do you mean?” Jax demanded.
“Well, you see, you're all about to die.”
The huge glass windows behind Xanos burst inward, thousands of razor-sharp shards flying past the self-proclaimed god toward the Council. The pyramidal ceiling collapsed, hunks of glass raining downward toward them.
“Shields!” Jax screamed.
Gravity shields came to life around the guards and the Councilmen, glass shards bouncing off of them and flying in all directions. Ariana ducked low to the ground, pulling Kyle down with her, and scrambled on her hands and knees until she was behind the couch she'd knocked over earlier. Kyle followed, pieces of glass whizzing by inches above his head.