The Lure of Fools

by Jason James King

  “Cub?” Gryyth rumbled.

  Raelen fell to the ground, sitting next to Maely’s sleeping form. He ground his teeth in an effort to staunch his threatening tears. His father would’ve scolded him for even approaching such a pathetic display of emotion. His eyes burned, and a tear spilled down his left cheek. With his adrenaline gone, the weight and import of all that was happening crashed down upon him. It made him slump his shoulders as though it were a physical burden.

  “I’m afraid,” he said only loud enough for Gryyth to hear.

  Gryyth groaned as he gingerly sat down next to Raelen. It made him feel guilty for causing his friend and protector more pain. “There is no shame in feeling fear.”

  “Aiested has fallen, my father’s dead, a new talis war is starting, and I am now responsible for thousands of refugees, and we are alone in the wild with no food or supplies.” Raelen motioned toward Aiested and the broken Apeira well surrounded by black clouds. “And the world is ending.”

  Gryyth chuckled, a sound which quickly became another groan of pain. Raelen glanced at Gryyth’s blackened chest and neck. “I fail to see the humor in all of this.”

  “Laughing,” the Ursaj grimaced, “when all seems lost, is a form of bravery.”

  “Or insanity,” Raelen scoffed.

  “You are king, now, cub. You must be brave.”

  “You said there was no shame in being afraid.”

  “Fear is like the rain. It falls upon all of us. In this there is no shame.” The Ursaj sucked in a sharp breath. “But it is also as a fork in the road. Now you must choose Seiro. You must choose to be brave.”

  “But what am I supposed to do?” Raelen leaned forward and bowed his head. He wanted to curl in on himself, shrink down beneath the crushing weight on his shoulders. With his face turned toward the ground, the tears flowed freely. “This all happened so suddenly. I don’t feel prepared to deal with it. Father was right. I am not ready to be king.”

  Gryyth’s huge paw touched Raelen between the shoulder blades. “Your sire was wrong.”

  Raelen had never heard Gryyth so openly criticize his master–or rather former master. Perhaps his being free from the obeisance awl had loosened his tongue.

  He continued. “Your sire believed that your compassion and nobility were weaknesses. Like most of your kind, he did not understand Seiro. He desired you to change these things about yourself. But the very essence of what it means to lead is love. Anyone can rule, can make people do what they wish through force. A true leader inspires others to follow him, by his compassion and caring. Then people choose to follow him.”

  Raelen scrubbed his eyes with the back of his wrist. “Seiro.”

  “Seiro,” Gryyth agreed.

  It hadn’t been specific advice about how to handle their crisis, but somehow Gryyth’s wisdom had rallied Raelen’s courage. Gryyth could always do that. Raelen smiled at the bear-man and gently touched his furry shoulder. He then stood and surveyed the crowd. To his relief, none of them had been paying any attention to him and would, therefore, have not seen him weeping.

  Again, Raelen looked back up at what was left of Aiested’s Apeira well, and then turned to stare at the eastern horizon. Mind cleared by his emotional outburst and Gryyth’s counsel, he’d gained a grasp on their situation and an idea struck him.

  “Your people live in these woods?”

  “Somewhere,” Gryyth rumbled.

  Raelen looked down at him. “You don’t know where?”

  “We don’t live in cities, cub. Not like you do.”

  Why hadn’t Raelen known that?

  Gryyth continued, “We live in dens, in small groups–mostly families. And we wander about much.”

  Did Gryyth have a family? Was he captured as a cub, or when he was older? Raelen had never thought to ask.

  “Do the Ursaj ever gather as one? To make laws or worship?”

  Gryyth hesitated before answering, “On occasion, but this is a thing we do not speak of to humans.”

  “Not even me?”

  Gryyth looked uncertain. “I trust you, cub. But most of your kind do not know Seiro. They would use the knowledge to capture or kill us.”

  “Please.”

  Gryyth growled and it turned into a groan. Then he bowed his head as though defeated. “There is a place in these woods, sacred to the Ursaj–The Sky Temple. We assemble there when called.”

  “How are you called? Do you have a talis?”

  Gryyth shook his large head. “It is a thing of the Mother.”

  Raelen wasn’t sure what that meant. “How far away is this place?”

  “Not close. But also, not terribly far.”

  “Could you make it there?”

  Gryyth chuckled and motioned to his burns with one paw. “Not without your help, cub. But just you. Not any of your guards.”

  That was going to be a problem.

  Raelen looked back to watch his refugees as they milled about, looking for food in their hastily packed gear. Some didn’t even bother to do more than curl up on the ground or lean against trunks of trees to sleep or comfort their children.

  “If you can call them, will they help us?”

  Gryyth’s blue eyes bore into him for a whole minute before he finally answered, “I am not the one who should call the others, and even if I do it, the Ursaj see all humans as enemies. It will be a hardship just to persuade them you didn’t force me to aid you, and it is death for the unworthy to enter our sacred meeting place.”

  Raelen turned around and looked down at Gryyth. “What about Rygarr and the Hunter?”

  Gryyth looked uncertain.

  “Three days the hunter tracked Rygarr, intent on slaying her though she had done him no hurt,” Raelen began quoting the Ursaj fable. “While watching from her hiding place, she saw the hunter spring his own trap and spear himself through the leg. He was helpless, alone, and bleeding. He would surely die of his wounds if not by the fang and claw of predators larger than himself.”

  Gryyth took over the recitation. “So Rygarr went to him, and freed him from the trap that had been meant for her. Then she carried him to a clear and clean river, where she tended to his wound and cared for him nine days. Then, when the hunter was well enough, Rygarr carried him out of the forest and back to his village.”

  “It is Siero for your people to aid mine,” Raelen said.

  Gryyth nodded sharply. “Perhaps, cub. But do not forget the ending of that story.”

  And when the people of the village saw Rygarr approaching with the hunter in her arms, they panicked, and heeding not the protests of the hunter, they took Rygarr and slew her.

  “We are a broken people, now. We pose no threat to the Ursaj. As my first act as king, I will officially decree that all Ursaj held in slavery are to be freed, and your people hunted no more.”

  Gryyth chuckled. “You are clever, cub. I will take you to The Sky Temple and call the others to help your people.”

  “I can’t go with you, Gryyth.”

  Gryyth growled. “What is this foolishness, cub?”

  Raelen shook his head and knelt before him. “I am going to ride east to find Aiestal’s armies and order them to stop their march on Haeshala. If I ride hard, I think I can get to them before the fighting starts, and perhaps we can yet prevent this war.”

  Gryyth paused for a moment before finally nodding. “You have truly learned Seiro, cub.”

  Raelen smiled. “You are too injured to make this journey on your own, my friend. You will have to trust one of my guards.”

  “No,” Gryyth growled.

  “Gryyth, please.”

  “Your guards do not know Seiro. They are men of blood and killing.”

  Raelen’s chest tightened. Seiro demanded that he leave his people to try and prevent Jenoc’s talis war. But he also had a duty to these people, his people. And what of Gryyth? If the Ursaj went alone in his current state, he would likely die.

  A twig breaking drew Raelen’s attention to the side
where Maely watched him. She was in the process of drawing her legs up to her chest, but froze when Raelen looked at her. How long had she been awake? As if injected into his mind by the goddess herself, another idea came to him.

  “You have heard what we’ve been saying?”

  Maely nodded wordlessly, her eyes wide.

  Raelen turned back to Gryyth. “What of this child? According to Seiro, her age makes her innocent. Your people would not see her as a threat.”

  Gryyth looked at Maely. “She is hardly a child.”

  “But not yet a woman.”

  “I’m fifteen!” Maely snapped. Then her eyes widened and she added, “Um… my prince.”

  Raelen knelt in front of Maely. “I don’t know how you’re involved in all of this, but I watched you challenge the Allosian wizard when we fought him on the tower. You have strength and courage.”

  “You ride to stop him?”

  Raelen nodded.

  “Please take me with you. I have a score to settle with him.”

  A score to settle?

  The young lady unconsciously touched a ring she wore on her right hand. It looked like a talis, but without the purple glow of an Apeiron shard, he wasn’t sure. He wanted to know what her part in all of this was, but there was no time to spare.

  Raelen glanced at Gryyth and then leaned in closer to Maely so that their faces were mere inches apart. “He is my friend and protector. He practically raised me from the time I was a child. You see those burns upon his chest?”

  Maely nodded.

  “They will soon become infected, if they aren’t already. I’ve seen burns half that serious cause fever and death. He needs care, and right now the only chance for that is to get him to his people. I need someone I can trust.”

  “You don’t even know me,” Maely said with a harshness Raelen didn’t expect. “I’m not trustworthy.”

  Raelen smiled as he gently wiped a tear from Maely’s cheek. “You are right. I don’t know you. But my heart tells me that you have a noble soul.”

  “Your heart is wrong.” Maely caught herself again. “Um… Your Highness.”

  Raelen shook his head. “I know what I’m about in this. I’ve been searching men’s hearts for nobility all my life.”

  “Well, maybe that’s your problem,” she said with small smirk.

  “What?”

  “You’ve been looking in men’s hearts.”

  Raelen bellowed a laugh, and it made Maely jump. He seldom laughed so boisterously, certainly never in front of his father. It felt good, as though he were expelling months of heartache. There had only been one other person who could make him forget himself this way–Saranna.

  Maely chuckled uncertainly. Raelen stood, reached down, and helped the girl to her feet. “Will you do this thing for me?”

  She looked at Gryyth for a long moment and then met Raelen’s gaze.

  By the breath of the goddess, there’re steel in those eyes.

  Maely nodded.

  “Thank you.” Raelen bent over and kissed her on the cheek. This seemed to surprise her almost as much as Raelen’s sudden laughter had.

  He had his honor guard find and seize one of the refugee’s gherns, left Gryyth and Maely with some final instructions, and was riding east within the hour. It wasn’t long before he’d left the woods and found Aiestad’s royal road–a cobbled thoroughfare that extended from the capital city for twenty miles. Thunder booming behind Raelen prompted him to glance back at the city.

  Flashes of green amidst the inky clouds showed him the jagged top of the broken Apeira well. It was both awesome and terrifying. It really did look as though the end of the world was upon them. Raelen responded in the only way that seemed right.

  He laughed.

  Mulladin couldn’t remember being dim. Well, that wasn’t exactly true. He could remember events, sights, and sounds, and how he felt, but those memories were viewed through the lens of his current level of mental capacity.

  I sure did cry a lot.

  He was crying now. Not weeping or sobbing, but his cheeks were wet from quiet tears. Ez was dead. Jekaran was broken. He likely could never return home. His whole world had changed in a single day. The loss of his dearest friends overshadowed the blessing of his transformation.

  And perhaps Maely, too.

  The thought stabbed his already aching heart. What would he do if his sister were dead? Who would take care of him? He scoffed at that. It seemed to be an instinctive echo from his old life. He could take care of himself now. His lightning ring–when charged again–could let him defend himself, and would fetch a small fortune on the black market. But the practical necessities of life weren’t all that Maely had provided him.

  Though a few years younger, Maely had stepped in to fill the role of Mulladin’s nurturer when his mother died. Maely had been the one to quiet his fears in the dead of night, to tend him when he was ill, or to discipline him when he misbehaved. Ez had also done those things on occasion, and Mulladin knew the man looked out for them, but it was Maely who had really cared for him. Well, now it was his turn to care for her. He’d find her, bind up her wounds, and carry her away from this place. Or, if the unthinkable had happened, he’d bury her. Dead or alive, he had to find his sister.

  He tried not to flinch whenever a bolt of emerald lightning flashed from within the black clouds swirling about the broken Apeira well. Those seemed to be increasing in frequency, the trailing thunder sounding as though it were having a difficult time keeping up, and they were coming in bursts of three or four. The dark sky seemed a macroscopic expression of the roiling turmoil inside him.

  After hours of backtracking, Mulladin found himself again inside the capital city. The streets were no longer clogged with frightened mobs of fleeing people, though to say they were empty would not be correct either. There were some stragglers frantically hefting packs, pulling handcarts, and carrying children away from their homes, but most of the street’s occupants looked to be looting. Even the plunderers seemed reluctant to stay here any longer than they had to as was evidenced by their frequent, wide-eyed glances up at the broken Apeira well that rose from the center of the city.

  These same people, looters and retreating peasants alike, shot confused glances at Mulladin as he jogged through the streets toward the palace ruins. Who would be fool enough to be running so eagerly to the darkness?

  Maybe I still am dim.

  As he ran, the true state of his exhaustion gradually asserted itself. So it was with welcome relief that he found a ghern tied to a corral outside of an inn. The beast must’ve somehow been left behind when the people of Aiested made their frantic evacuation. Incongruously, the animal seemed completely unconcerned that the world was ending. It bleated lazily at Mulladin when he unhitched it from its post, and didn’t appear to care when he climbed into its saddle.

  He nearly fell off when he prompted the bipedal animal into a trot. Fortunately, riding across Shaelar with Ez had taught him how to ride a ghern, but driving it–that was another matter altogether. It took frustratingly too long for him to make the creature go where he wanted it to go, and longer still to get it to stop when he tried to rein it in. He wasn’t sure if it was his inexperience, or the beast’s temperament, but in the end, he’d been forced to abandon the creature and resume his jogging.

  Two more hours passed before Mulladin found himself standing before the ruins of the palace. It was as dark as night this close to the broken Apeira well on account of the roiling clouds that swirled around the jagged crystal spire above. Only the sunlight behind him made it possible to see anything; that and the flashes of green lightning from within the clouds.

  There were no looters here, despite the famed wealth of the king’s talis vault. No one would be foolish enough to venture this far into the unnatural darkness–well, no one but him. He moved into the courtyard, a once green field with colorful gardens now a barren wasteland devoid of all flora. Chunks of white stone punctuated the landscape in every dire
ction, and jagged shards of green crystal stuck out from where they’d dug themselves into the ground.

  Mulladin wound his way around the mammoth debris, some pieces larger than two-story buildings, and finally found himself standing before the ruined doors of the palace. He had to climb over the severed head of an enormous statue to gain access. As soon as Mulladin stepped inside, he was paralyzed by the sight that lay before him. The entire colonnade that fed into the palace proper was covered in broken white stone and gigantic Apeira well shards. From this point on, the way was impassable.

  Rage boiled up inside Mulladin and he threw himself at the nearest piece of stone. He slammed into it with enough force to expel the wind from his lungs, and stumbled backward sucking air. As soon as his breath returned, he reached down for a fist-sized chunk of stone and lobbed it at the mountain of impassable debris. He repeated this futile action twice more before falling to his knees and screaming until his throat hurt. Then he fell forward onto all fours and heaved, shoulders rising and falling. He squeezed his eyes shut, and the heat of fresh tears stung his eyelids as they leaked down his cheeks.

  His sister was surely dead, for no one could’ve survived being buried by so much stone. And even if by some miracle they had, there was absolutely no way for anyone to find or extract them. First Ez, then Jek, and now Mae. They were all gone. Mulladin was alone.

  It occurred to him that the fear of being abandoned had carried over from his old life as a simpleton with its potency undiminished by the mental maturing. He remembered the panic he’d experience whenever he was away from Maely too long. He remembered not being able to believe Ez or Jek when they assured him Maely was coming back. He remembered the sweeping relief upon seeing her again. She’d always scolded him for “being a baby” but it’d always been with a smile. Now she really wasn’t coming back.

  He didn’t know how long he stayed like that, but the sun had noticeably lowered in the distance when he rose again. He walked away from the ruined palace, and the surreal darkness caused by the cloud cover, and wandered aimlessly. The sun continued to set in the west, and by the time dusk was upon the city, Mulladin found himself at the docks. Not many ships remained, and the ones that did were full of looters hastily loading their booty.