The waking of storm and.., p.28
The Waking of Storm and Flame, page 28
She pulled the amulet from around her neck and held it between her and Zahra’s hand. She felt the burn through to her bones but held on and invoked Kaata’s name. Rinley prayed the amulet still had enough of its light so that she might save Zahra. As light emanated from their hands, Zahra calmed, and the white returned to her eye. The other remained black, more than Rinley had noticed it before. “What was that Zahra?”
“She didn’t win this time, the sheyde wouldn’t let her. Something... fought back. Many times the sheyde in my body has given me strength. It propels me beyond my limits, but each time it takes a piece of me with it.” She placed a foot in the stirrup on her horse’s saddle and pulled herself onto its back. “This time, it felt like it wanted me, all of me. I tread the thin line between fighting back and giving myself over to it. Thanks, Rinley.”
Rinley pulled herself up onto her horse and looked at the amulet in her hand that returned to its natural grey, having lost its red luster. Her eyes didn’t leave Zahra, who was lost in her own thoughts. She turned her horse and cracked the reins in the direction of Essea. Rinley was hesitant to follow but couldn’t leave Zahra alone, not now.
* * *
They slammed into the stone wall of Braddock, out of breath from having run a fair distance. Rinley, bow drawn in her hand with an arrow knocked, readied herself. She turned, and whispered to Zahra, “the gate’s open.”
Zahra drew Talon, its blade reflected the light of the moon. “Swift, silent, without mercy. We press until we’ve covered the entire place.”
Rinley positioned herself behind Zahra, ready to cover her as Zahra charged toward the guards. The moonlight briefly illuminated Zahra’s blackened eye, revealing the pronounced green iris and an unnervingly thin, elongated pupil. “Ready. Go!” Rinley’s bowstring drew taut as the pair rounded the corner. Rinley’s gaze fixed on a figure in the courtyard, but she hesitated to release her arrow. Zahra surged into the open ground and skidded to a halt. The courtyard was filled with commoners loading bodies onto carts and cleaning up after a recent massacre.
Rinley lowered her bow, sliding the arrow back into her quiver. Zahra sheathed Talon as the few remaining citizens cast wary glances at them. “I don’t think we’ll need our weapons here,” Rinley said.
An older woman dressed in Essean black, with eyes that seemed unnatural and jaundiced, walked toward them, needing a cane to support herself. “Who are ya?” she asked. “Not looking like you’re some lot from ‘round ‘ere. Come out with it, haven’t got all night.”
“Milia,” Rinley replied. “This is Sora. We rode west from Envall. Heard there was trouble here at the old fort.” Zahra looked at the bodies in the carts and saw the colors of a few Tallieri and Vocklan soldiers among the black sets of armor of dead Esseans. The smell was dreadful, telling her they had been there for a number of days. “The south is rising up against us now? When will they learn that they cannot rival the empire.”
“I wouldn’t worry too much about ‘em ladies. They came for the Verbrandt girl, caused a big mess, took her, and left. A great fire threatened to take half the fort with it, but we snuffed it out.”
“Damned southerners. When will they learn not to meddle in our affairs?” Zahra said, following the example Rinley had set. The words, mixed with that horrid, pompous, Illyrian accent sounded filthy as the words escaped her lips. But ‘the Verbrandt girl’... Alira is alive. This was a rescue.
“Serves ‘em right I suppose,” said the old woman. “The word around the city is that the viscount killed several thousand of ‘em, not including the lot up on the platform.” Zahra looked up and saw the pile of green and silver armor-cladded bodies stacked on top of one another.
“Where is the viscount now? I would like to report to the duke that everything here is in order before we return.”
“Marched on down south he did. Last we heard from our soldiers, they burned down much of the city in the mountains and were headed for the old capital next. Wasn’t expecting ‘im to do in the short folk, but it’s one less problem in the world I suppose.”
“What did you say? They were people, as alive as you and I!” A young man stopped and put down the body he drug toward the cart. “How can you be so heartless? What if that was Essea?” Zahra noted something different in his voice. The Illyrian accent sounded strained, and it had a touch of something else. Not Tallieri, but maybe it’s-
“Well, it’s not,” the old woman replied, her deep-rooted belief in the empire was clear. “Any who stand against the imperator deserve the same fate, even if they’re half the size. You’re lucky no soldiers ‘round to hear you slander Illyria.”
“If all we are is a threat to the south, they’ll never want to join us,” the man said. “Isn’t that the grand design that the viscount speaks of?”
Zahra felt anger well up inside of her but couldn’t allow the sheyde to show itself. “Well, I’m not getting in the middle of this. If everything’s fine, we’ll take a quick look around for the duke and be gone.” Rinley sounded convincing enough, with a near perfect Illyrian accent.
“Do as you want,” the man said. “None here will give you any trouble. If you’re looking for the Esseans, ours are down here with some of the Tallieri and Vocklans. The Namellian soldiers are up top. What’s left of them anyway.”
“Then that’s where we’ll start,” Rinley added. “For our glory, always.”
“For our glory,” the old woman replied while the man mumbled it. They turned to walk back to the group of Esseans as Rinley and Zahra ascended the steps onto the higher platforms.
“Well handled, Milia,” Zahra said.
“It comes easier than you’d expect.”
Why was her Illyrian so perfect? Focus, Zahra, it doesn’t matter now, does it?
“Whatever you see up here, don’t react to it,” Rinley told Zahra. “I’m sure we dodged suspicion, but if we sell ourselves out, they’ll ring the bells and the Essean reserve will be fast on our heels.” As they reached the upper platform, Zahra took in a sight she’d never hoped to see. She knew the body adorned in gold armor, and had to look away, knowing how a man she looked up to met his end.
“He was the Captain of the Royal Guard. He didn’t deserve to go out like this. The smell of decomposing flesh turned Zahra’s stomach, and she lifted her cloak to shield her nose from it.
Rinley didn’t say anything. Zahra thought she would be sympathetic but did her best to maintain their cover. She saw the stacked bodies of her soldiers, their tunics of green were stained with blackened dirt and dried blood. The cuts and bruises on their skin indicated a great amount of torture before they were put to the axe. Zahra’s stomach, empty of its contents held up against the smell of death even as the lump in her throat that tried to force its way up.
She crouched low on the platform and noticed blackened scars in the wood. She broke a small piece off and held it to her nose, without doubt it was caused by fire. This was where Emile had rescued Alira. A small strike force, which took many Illyrian lives but preserved Namelle’s future. She smiled seeing the red fletched arrow stuck out of a body next to the executioner’s block.
“If they came for her, they must have returned to Vilmonde,” Rinley said. “Full suits of armor on the Tallieri soldiers below, unlike the light, blue accented armor worn in northern ranks of Périzieu.”
Zahra felt the weight of the world come off her shoulders. She breathed easier believing that Alira was still alive. “Let’s get going, no need to linger here.”
Something caught Zahra’s eye as she stood up, a suspicious black box on a table near the block. Her feet wouldn’t stop, it was as if it pulled her close. She opened the lid and beheld a nostalgic sight. Of all the corners in Idel, this is the one in which it was hidden. Vayal, the sword of Trystan Verbrandt, not soon forgotten.
“It cannot be. This, isn’t real.” She pulled the sword out of the box. Her hands gripped its hilt and the green stone in its pummel glowed with a dim hue. Zahra hadn’t held that sword since she was a girl but remembered its grip and how perfect it felt in her hand.
“There will be time to admire it later, but for now we have to go.” Rinley took the bloodied cloth from underneath the axe and threw it over Vayal. She picked up the bloodied axe and led Zahra, still in amazement and borderline in tears, down to the base of the platform.
“Going so soon?” The old woman called out.
“We’ve seen everything we need to see,” Rinley replied. “The duke will be more than satisfied with this trophy and our confirmation that our enemy was slaughtered.” She brandished the cloth, and the old woman bid them to be safe on the road home. Rinley and Zahra walked out of the fort as unchallenged as they had come in. Zahra couldn’t believe they had recovered Trystan’s sword without a fight, all the while she wondered what Cael would think if he knew. After a few minutes’ walk, they came upon their horses grazing on the plain’s grass.
“What now Zahra?”
“The road takes us to Vilmonde. It beckons you home and me back to my sister.” She watched the excitement fade from Rinley’s face. “I’m sorry, I forgot you were-”
“Exiled, but I’ll get you to Vilmonde.”
* * *
“They’re watching us, Zahra...” Rinley couldn’t hold back her angst, flanked in the dark forest by things unseen. No light penetrated the overgrowth, and the torch only lit a small radius around them. The light cast shadows that seemed to wander and moved about the trees.
In the distance, Rinley saw through the brush, bright reflections of eyes amongst the foliage. The forest was alive, but in that life was darkness. The sounds of broken branches and the rustle of decayed leaves crunched underfoot as they pressed onward along the path through the woods. Rinley walked behind Zahra, so close they might have been one person. She stopped abruptly and Rinley bumped into her, not watching where she was going.
“By the goddess Rinley, pull it together! It has been hours of the same since we lost the light.”
“Something’s... agh!” A winged creature flew fast by, and Rinley clung to Zahra’s arm, burying her head in her cloak.
“Wasn’t it your idea to come through here anyway? ‘It will save a couple of days,’ she said. Well, if this hasn’t been the longest walk of my life.” Zahra and Rinley had to say goodbye to their horses who wouldn’t dare enter the foreboding mass of trees and shadows.
“Well, yeah, but let’s just get through this. Okay?” Every sound caused Rinley to shutter and squeal.
“Have you any idea how far we’ve come?” It seemed as though they had been walking for an eternity, but Zahra was sure had only been hours.
“Uh, no?”
“What do you mean no? You’re supposed to keep track of this. Aren’t you rangers supposed to be adept at these kinds of things?” A dream, but let’s see what she says.”
“Well I’m sorry, Commander Ke’elle, but when my father taught me archery, he didn’t often take me into the woods at night for pleasurable strolls.”
Zahra stopped, turned about, and looked behind her. Something moved around them at a rapid speed, dodging her sight. She handed the torch to Rinley and drew Talon.
“What is it, Zahra?” Rinley whispered, a nervous expression on her face in the light of the torch.
“Only one creature I’ve ever known moved like this. The last time I fought one....” She pointed to her eye and the scars overtop of it. The light of the flame flickered against the blackness in her eye and the green seemed to recede in the light.
Rinley shuttered and her body drew ever tighter into itself. “You beat it though, right?” She asked.
“I did.” A statement that reassured Rinley. “But I also watched one kill my brother... so... there’s that.”
Zahra listened, looking around in all directions. The forest was vacant of sound, no small creatures rustled in the trees or bushes. The slight breeze that blew through tapered off and no messages of birds were heard. Only a foreboding, pervasive silence remained. Then it came, slow at first. The rhythmic steps of a large beast drew toward them from the direction they intended to go. Rinley backed behind Zahra, who held out her sword in the direction of the creature. “Whatever you seek, abyssal wretch, know that you approach the Commander of the Namellian Royal Army. One who bears the sword of the Fated Line, Verbrandt. Hear my name–Zahra Ke’elle–and tremble at my legend!”
It advanced, step by step, veiled from sight. “Lay down that torch on the path, Rinley. You’ll need your bow for this.” Rinley placed the torch on the ground atop a pile of stone. Her hands trembled as she grabbed the bow slung around her shoulder and fumbled with an arrow. She drew it back, pointed the arrowhead over Zahra’s shoulder and waited.
The creature moved slowly, unnervingly deliberate. With waning strength, Rinley fired her arrow into the darkness. At the moment the arrow should have lost its velocity, there was no sound—no impact. Had she missed? Silence prevailed. Then, suddenly, a deafening roar erupted beside them. A massive shadow struck Rinley with brutal force, hurling her into a tree some distance away. She crashed to the ground, an open wound oozing blood from her head.
Zahra stared down their attacker. If you sought me this night, let me show you what I did to another of yours. Try to endure my wrath, you will fail.
It was a Reaver, but unlike any Zahra had encountered. The beast was an ethereal black menace, a shadowy apparition that defied belief. Zahra’s sword slashed through it, but her blade passed without resistance. Disbelief gripped her as the Reaver raised its great paw and struck her with devastating force. She reeled backward, sliding on the rocky path, desperately trying to regain her footing. Digging Talon into the ground, Zahra pulled a throwing knife from her belt and hurled it at the Reaver. The knife should have struck its shoulder, but it passed through as if the creature were made of mist.
Zahra tasted blood, and felt it run into her mouth from a split lip. She struggled to pull herself to her feet, the force of the impact was so great it knocked the wind from her lungs, and she struggled to catch her breath. As the ethereal Reaver rounded again, ready to make the final blow, Zahra reached over her shoulder and drew Vayal with Talon stuck deep into the ground. If you’re listening, father, I need you.
She coughed up blood onto the stone and fixed her stance, arms up, blade forward. She was ready and as the Reaver charged, Zahra spun low as the beast tried to snap its jaws around her head. She slashed out and felt her blade bite into the reaver’s leg as it tumbled past her. She turned, ran toward it, and caught the beast in the shoulder with another slash. The reaver spun around, and its arm hit Zahra hard in the stomach.
Struggling to her knees, Zahra saw the reaver’s yellow eyes glow ominously. Its maw gaped open, drool dripping, as it prepared to feast. The beast reared back on its hind legs and drew back its paw. Zahra, bloodied and battered, held Vayal up in a desperate defense. As the long claws descended, the green stone in the hilt flared with a brilliant light, encircling her in a protective circle of white. The reaver’s paw struck the light and was seared by its brilliance.
As the circle of light faded, Zahra saw the Reaver was no more and in its place, was a cloaked figure in black. She knew the beast had changed, for it kept the same yellowed eyes. The same eyes that...
“What are you, devil? An old woman? An envoy?” she asked, trying to stop her cough and catch her breath.
“Word has reached my ears of the one they call, Ke’elle.” It spoke to her, slow and deep. A near similar tone to that which Rial used in Khuldir. “The ardent warrior of the south who rose up in defiance of an empire. Your name is known to many but is important only to me.” The entity hissed out its words, struggling to grasp the language.
“What of it, serpent? Are you impressed?” Zahra rose to her feet and held out her arms in full view of the entity.
“Very, but please, call me Calos. He will be impressed too, for it is you that he seeks.” The entity moved into the light of the torch and diminished it with a wave of his hand. “You are the last of the family whose name you carry and whose legacy from whom you turn away in naivety. You are the last daughter of the greatest of lines. One which is foretold to unite the world before a long-awaited return.”
Zeion. The entity knows that which Drea has told me. “What of my line? I am of the house, Verbrandt.”
“The blood in your veins is of greater importance than that ragged house you call family. Your line has endured through the years and the most unimaginable of circumstances. Even in his long slumber, I assure you that Aten clings to hope. For you are his hope that someday the sacred duty of the line of Kelevelle will be realized.”
The line of... Kelevelle? Sacred duty? Zahra shuddered, as her mind split in two. Had her true lineage been hidden from her all these years? “What sort of twisted revelation do you place at my feet, deceiver?” She saw a smile come over his face, his teeth were in jagged points and his eyes pierced the darkness.
“You have felt the call of the unending shadow of this world, Zahra Kelevelle. In the darkest of moments, you’ve called to her. She has fed your lust for blood and gives you a taste of her power. You may feel as though each calling exacts a price, but it is merely your body and soul craving a power you so rightfully deserve, and an acceptance you have never known until now.”
“Stop this!” She yelled. Her body fought against the influence of the encroaching sheyde that seemed to be drawn out. She dropped Vayal and fell to her knees, clutching her head. Zahra felt every ounce of pain as her mind throbbed inside her skull and her soul screamed from the depth of her darkness within.
“You feel it, don’t you? It calls you to something greater than you could ever imagine. You are the one to unite our world, Zahra, under the red banner of Illyria. You will stand atop Zeion’s corpse with a unified humanity. For he will bring death and destruction to our planet if we don’t align with his perfect, unattainable image. The imperator will not let that happen to you, such is his promise.”
Calos stepped in front of Zahra, and as she met his gaze, the sheyde began to wriggle from the deepest recesses of her mind. Inch by inch, it crawled through her consciousness. Her eyes burned, tears streaming uncontrollably as her mind’s wildfire raged unchecked. She was powerless against Calos's influence. “Your path leads you to Vanir. The sheyde reveals your true self. You are one of us, and now you see where you truly belong. In Namelle, he awaits you. Only by destroying your past can you be freed.”
