Fallen Sepulchre

by J D Franx

  He pointed to the bag of supplies. “Just cover the wounds and use the rope in there to wrap my legs. We have to get moving before more of those things find us.”

  Corleya nodded and followed his orders. “Never seen dogs like that,” she whispered as she emptied the supply bag and grabbed the rope.

  “I have. Similar at least,” Kael spat. “Magic does more goddamn harm than it does good.”

  “How can you say that?” Corleya asked as she started wrapping the rope around his right leg. “It’s created amazing beauty and wonders. It helped us become who we are.”

  “It has destroyed far more than it has ever created.”

  “I disagree,” she began.

  He put up his hand to stop her. “I have been fighting for so many years, I’m tired of it,” he told her. “How about we start over? You already know it, but my name is Kael. And you are?”

  “Princess Corleya of Cethos,” she answered honestly.

  “Princess,” Alia snarled. “We have tried hard to keep that secret.”

  “Hush, Alia,” she ordered. “What does it matter now?”

  “Nice to meet you, Princess,” Kael said and laughed lightly. “I’ve never met a princess. Been hunted by the King of Cethos, but never met a princess before.”

  “I am sorry for that,” Corleya offered as a sheepish frown marred her face.

  “Why would you?” he asked. “It was long before you were born.”

  “What do you mean?” she questioned back. “Your name is Kael. You are Giddeon Zirakus’ son. My father is Joran Bale. He sent the ArchWizard after you.”

  “That’s impossible. I know time passes faster there, but… how long was I gone?”

  “I can’t answer that, Kael,” she replied. “I don’t know where you’ve been. If it helps, my father sent Giddeon after you about a year ago, perhaps a little longer.”

  “Only a year?” he asked, but it was not directed at her. “You were the one they were looking for in the Wildlands.”

  “Yes,” she answered and blushed a vivid red. “Not my proudest moment.”

  He shook his head as thoughts tumbled over and over through his mind. Only a year meant Giddeon was still alive. After all this time, he might have the chance to get his hands on Giddeon and make him pay for the misery he caused.

  “You know who I am?”

  Kael nodded. “I came across Giddeon and his daughter in the Wildlands, but he abandoned you to hunt me. Him and your father hunted me to the very end.”

  “Your kind nearly destroyed this world and the one south of here.”

  “But I didn’t. Even still, both you and your protector have kept a blade in hand, even when I’m torn apart.” Kael sighed. “Magic changes you, but lack of magic changes you more so. I wasn’t meant to handle magic. Because your kind played with my life, magic has destroyed everything I have ever cared about.”

  “Not all magic is like that, Kael,” Corleya said. Finished wrapping his left leg, she sat back on her heels and stared at him.

  “It might as well be, Princess. As long as I’m alive, your kind will hunt me for nothing more than a distorted history and the magic I have. Who I am doesn’t matter.”

  “You know little of our history, Kael.”

  “I know it better than you do, and you know nothing of me... but honestly? I don’t care. Help me up. We have to get out of here.” Alia turned and offered her hand. Giving him her shoulder as the Princess led the way, they raced into the forest.

  In minutes, the baying of dogs returned. Looking over his shoulder, Kael tripped and dragged Alia to the ground with him. His senses picked up her fear and panic as her elbow crashed into his mouth. Freeing herself from his legs, she jumped back to her feet with her dagger pointed at his chest.

  “Alia, stop!” Corleya snapped. “He just tripped.”

  Kael shook his head as he looked up at the mercenary. “They’ll hang me right alongside you, girl,” he told her. Corleya helped him stand as more hounds barked from the opposite direction.

  “They got ahead of us,” Alia said.

  Corleya shook her head. “We’ll never outrun them. We have to fight.”

  “I can... can barely stand.” Kael struggled to get the words out.

  “Then, you die first,” the mercenary snapped.

  “There’s another way,” Kael offered, “but you’ll have to trust me.”

  “Never,” Alia sneered.

  “How?”

  “No, Princess,” Alia insisted.

  “I might be able to jump us out of here,” Kael said. His voice trembled, and he was not surprised when Alia caught it.

  “You offer this now? Convenient.” She frowned at him.

  “Hardly,” Kael scoffed. “I’ve never jumped as far as we’d need to for us to be safe, and we’ll be jumping through the Black Kasym and its magic. But these hicks will chase us all the way to the Black Kasym if we don’t do something. They know this forest better than us.”

  “Are you talking about a realm jump?” Corleya asked. “Like the Fae myths and stories?”

  “Similar, yes,” Kael answered. “Jasala told me how it works, but I’ve never actually tried it over such a distance or through such volatile magic as the Kasym.”

  “No,” Alia barked a second time.

  Kael growled. “Either we die here...”

  “Or risk the jump,” Corley finished for him when his voice trailed off.

  “And likely still die,” Kael stated.

  Corleya nodded. “We’ll definitely die if we stay.”

  “Where? Where will be safe?” Alia hissed quietly.

  “Trust me,” Kael said, offering them both a hand.

  “Princess?”

  Corleya took Kael’s hand. “What choice do we have, Alia? Die here or try getting to safety.” The lady-in-waiting nodded and took Kael’s other hand reluctantly. Her eyes narrowed as he pulled them closer.

  “Both of you take a step with me,” he instructed.

  A crack of power rolled through the forest as the trio stepped forward and vanished. A cloud of black and purple smoke exploded around a bright white light.

  The magic faded, leaving the forest empty.

  Chapter Seventeen

  “The last links of mail ’ave been scoured with enchantments and the leather properly treated. I have hammered steel and sewn supple leather for nae on four centuries and ne’r ave I been more proud of a set of armor than the one ‘fore me. Kinrai chainmail links heat-tapped in Dragonfire ‘til the tell tale orange and purple veins have retreated to within the metal have created a n’er unbreakable chain of linked mail. Dragon runes mark the leather and Fae magic been weaved through all threadings. Aye, I hope one day it shae been worn by a warrior worthy of ’er. I ‘ave named ’er Unity as tribute to all who created ’er. She will be this smith’s shiny glory.”

  Dagor Dragonforge, Arkum Zul’s last dragon fire blacksmith. Journal entries found in the Arcane Library catacombs, year and date unknown.

  THE BLACK ARC

  THE FORSAKEN LANDS

  Kael stumbled as he stepped out of the magical jump that carried him and the two young women through the outer edges of the Ether. Though he did not understand it, he knew such magic skirted the laws of god magic in Talohna. No price was demanded when he used such magic. As Don’s words returned to him, he finally began to understand why his magic did the abnormal things it did. He understood why people feared him so much.

  Corleya and Alia both collapsed on the ground, the stress of traveling so far by magic was more than they could handle. The rift closed behind him, and he released the shield he had used to protect them while passing through the Kasym. He, however, had gone without any shielding of his own and the price hit him hard. An explosion of pain coursed through his body, and he dropped to his knees clenching his teeth. The waves continued to throb from head-to-foot for several minutes as his stomach turned cold with panic. He began to wonder if the price he paid would be permanent.

>   “I am going to kill you, wizard,” Alia said as she wretched.

  His body shook from the stress, but he could not get his tongue to work.

  “Why is the world spinning?” Corleya gasped out. Her fingers dug into the dirt as if she were trying to re-center herself to the earth.

  Kael snorted as the pain started to subside. “We… we… we...” His brain sparked as if short circuiting, and he rubbed his forehead repeatedly. “Just traveled… traveled two continents… through the Black Kasym… I can’t believe… we… we’re alive. I am not doing that ever again.”

  “Wish dead, be better,” Alia groaned and gagged.

  “Try… try traveling from the afterlife to the living,” Kael mumbled. Shaking his head as the last of the startling shock from the Kasym faded, he groaned and fell on his face.

  “Where are we?” Alia growled.

  “The first and only place I have felt welcome since I arrived here,” he said. Forcing himself to his feet, he offered Alia a hand. She frowned and ignored it. Standing on her own, she quickly helped Corleya up.

  “Holy shit!” Corleya whispered as she pointed up. “That’s...”

  “The Black Arc,” Kael finished for her as he rubbed his aching head. “The magical tower Jasala Vyshaan built to help her keep the Ri’Tek locked away.”

  Corleya gasped. “My father has a painting in his personal study.”

  “Welcome back, Master.” Kael recognized the raspy voice even though he had not heard it in over two hundred years.

  Alia yanked her dagger from its sheath and placed her body between the voice and Corleya.

  “What in the Nine Hells is that?” the Princess asked, her voice trembling nearly as much as she was.

  “Easy,” Kael barked, “they won’t hurt you.”

  The three WraithLords bowed. “You are severely wounded, Master. Come.”

  “You have got be kidding me,” Corleya said.

  “Wraith butler,” Alia quipped.

  Kael stepped inside. “WraithLords,” he corrected. “We’ll be safe here until we recover.” He entered the stairwell down to Jasala’s bedroom.

  “You don’t understand, Kael,” Corleya said as she followed. “I need to return home. My father needs to know I’m alive.”

  He nodded. “I do understand. Just give me a few days to heal, and I’ll escort you home myself. Though, I doubt you can guarantee my safety?”

  “No,” Corleya said, and he could hear the sadness in her voice. “My father wouldn’t listen to me about Alia, and he won’t about you either, no matter what I say.”

  “Wise man, our king,” Alia added.

  Sighing as he struggled not to lose his temper, Kael shot the mercenary a frown. “Your... lady-in-waiting saved my life in El’ Noray, but I’m tired of listening to her shit. I will take you home, and we’ll be settled. Even your father’s Third Pillar won’t be able to stop me from jumping out of Corynth once I know you’re safe.”

  “We need to leave now, Kael,” Corleya persisted.

  “Neither of you will get out of these lands without me. Jasala’s creations still roam loose here. It’s a three day walk to the border. Believe me, they make those dogs up north look like cuddly pets. Then, you’d have to get through the barrier fog and walk to Corynth. Another jump so soon will kill me and leave you both stranded, lost within the magic. A couple days rest, no more.”

  “There are other ways, Master,” the lead WraithLord offered as they stepped off the stairs into Jasala’s study.

  “How?” Kael asked, staring at the wall-size fireplace and the hidden room he knew contained Jasala’s body. At least he knew why her body was so perfectly preserved.

  “You have acquired the strength needed to free us. In exchange, you may take my soul to heal yourself and my brothers can return to their rest.”

  “I can’t,” Kael said. “I promised to release you all from your torment, not just two of you.”

  “You can,” the WraithLord replied. “I was Jasala’s first creation. More of who I am passed into this body than should have. Returning my soul to the afterlife will be a punishment. We committed horrors here... the weight of it will crush my soul once it is complete.”

  “I understand that,” Kael said. “Give me an hour to think on it, fair enough?”

  The WraithLord bowed and all three turned to guard the foot of the stairwell.

  Kael waved the women over. “Come on. Let’s get some rest so I can decide whether ruining another soul is the right thing to do.” He grasped the lever behind the big fireplace and pulled, revealing the hidden stairs to the lower bedroom. Heading down, he did not bother to wait for them.

  Arriving at the bottom, he smiled and removed his Orotaq cloak and battered armor. Nothing in the bedroom had changed. The bed, nightstands, alchemy table... all were the same. As his gaze passed over the large armoire, his eyes widened. The magic-laden black chainmail and leather armor inside called to him.

  Remembering what had happened last time, he approached the armoire. His fingers brushed over the ornate carvings, which resembled his own markings. It made him smile, again, even though it hurt to do so. Jasala’s deathflower never grew past her chest, yet she had hand carved the wooden armoire with markings to match the different stages of a DeathWizard’s growth. Some were exactly like the ones on his chest, even though they had changed after traveling through the Tree of Life back to the land of the living. The deathflower on his chest was gone, replaced by a detailed replica of the tree of life.

  “What are you looking at?” Corleya asked, her words breaking through his thoughts.

  “Remembering.”

  “Remembering Jasala?”

  “Yes. She never stood a chance. This world believes she was a monster when she willingly offered her life to give this world another five thousand years without the Ri’Tek.”

  Alia snorted. “All it cost was millions of innocent lives.”

  Kael frowned. “Yet she saved tens of millions—or more—from enslavement and worse.”

  “She turned this world inside out, Kael,” Corleya said. “She resorted to the darkest magic when cornered. That is all she will ever be remembered for.”

  “She knows that, and she has paid for it every day for those five thousand years. She still helped me get back here knowing she couldn’t come with. That’s who she really was or is.”

  Another scoff from Alia made him look her way. “DeathWizard lies.”

  Kael stared at her. “I am many things. A liar is not one of them. I will make you a deal, Princess Corleya. As soon as I am able, I will return you home. You agree to do everything you can so that I can leave without any problems.”

  “Even more lies!” Alia snapped. “You want time to recover. Do not make this deal, Princess. We should leave now, avoid DeathWizard’s tricks.” Alia hissed as she carried the last word for several seconds. It was the first real emotion he had seen from the young woman.

  He turned to her and scoffed. “You are aware that if I meant you any harm, I would have done so already,” he said. “My weapons embedded in your stomach would heal my own wounds in seconds.”

  Corleya nodded. “I saw you do that back at the inn. The man you stabbed… you tried not to kill him even though doing so would have healed you completely, wouldn’t have it?”

  With his eyes still locked on Alia, he nodded. “Yes. And, yet, your lady here, killed a man when she didn’t really have to. Things are not always as they seem are they, mercenary?”

  “No, they’re not,” Corleya said quietly. “That is why, I agree. Once you are able, take us home.”

  “Please, Princess,” Alia hissed again.

  “It’s all right, Alia.”

  “Think about what your father would say,” Alia insisted.

  “My father said to kill Kael.” Staring at Alia, she added, “He said the same to you, and I risked everything to save your life. That is why we are both here now. My father is not always right, even if his word is law. Maybe
I can learn something from this nightmare we have been living, so it may help us some day. I have the feeling our world is about to change more than at any other time in its history. Even you can’t deny that, Alia. The Ancients are back, and I’m starting to think they are not what people have been worshiping, praying, and wishing for all these millennia. How could we have been so wrong?” The bronze-skinned woman finally backed down and bowed to the princess.

  “I agree,” he said, and paused as he considered addressing her other question. “Because the years have a way of distorting some truths and burying others. History gets lost over time in any dimension. Now, get some sleep. You two can have the bed.”

  Kale could feel their immense exhaustion. Corleya stretched out on the bed and sighed as Alia eased herself into the bed. She wrapped her arms around Corleya. Their excitement and fear faded as the exhaustion settled in, and they drifted off to sleep.

  Kael lay back against the side of the bed and stared at the armoire. Corleya’s soft snores reminded him of Ember, and it tore at his heart and soul, but they were short-lived as she fell into a deeper sleep. Minutes passed as he tried to wrap his head around the drastic time shift difference between the afterlife and Talohna. A year and no news of Ember and Max. He knew what he saw in the vortex that began his nightmare, but at least now he could find the real answers. He would take the Princess home and then track Giddeon. It was the only course of action he could think of that might give him some answers, and if not, the ArchWizard would die. It was long past time. Exhaustion finally took over his mind as well. He yawned and closed his eyes.

  Jerking awake, he yawned, unsure of how long he had slept as he leaned against the bed. Something brought him from sleep, and he recognized the all too familiar itch in his mind returning. He stared at the armoire. It was as if the closet called to him through its locked doors.

  Perhaps it was the armor calling to him. The Vai’Karth had called out to him in a similar way to help him find them. However, with the armor, it was a strong feeling instead of actual words. It should have terrified him—if he touched the suit of armor, again, and he wasn’t strong enough, the defensive reaction would kill him. It did not scare him—not in the slightest bit. A large part of him vibrated with excitement at what the armor was. Jasala had explained it, though she had never laid eyes on it. Her Guardian had chased after it and the Vai’Karth for five years. It was clear she had found the armor and then hidden it away after Jasala’s death and the Cataclysm.